A Man Like None Other (Jared Chance) novel Chapter 5966

The name Eye of the Return-to-Void formed on his tongue, half-whisper, half-curse.

"Looks like the only path runs straight through that crooked stretch," he said after letting his focus trace the vortex’s trembling edges.

Vermilion Demon Lord’s growl rolled over his shoulder.

"Then what?" the demon pressed. "Do we just smash our way in?"

The fiend glared at the twisting light ahead.

"If I hadn’t gutted those two scouts, maybe they’d know a trick," he muttered, almost to himself.

Jared kept his voice steady, though sweat already salted his lips.

"Too late for regrets."

"Besides, with their strength they’d never cross that fold. The paradise we saw was a mirage spell—follow them and we’d still be wandering in it."

The demon’s wings rustled, impatient.

"Then what now?" he barked.

Jared let three heartbeats pass before answering.

"We don’t brute-force it. That field is cut from a higher order. Charge in and it’ll either shred us or spit us somewhere we won’t like."

His gaze skimmed the chaos until a slow-drifting slab of dark purple stone slid between the currents.

It bore veins shaped like puzzle paths.

As the rock rolled, the markings hummed, knitting the air around it into brief, quiet pockets.

A primitive anchor, but an anchor all the same.

Hope tightened his chest.

"I’ve got it," he said.

His eyes brightened.

"See the stones with those stabilizing veins? Quality is low, quantity isn’t. We can turn them into allies."

The demon cocked an eyebrow.

"And the trick is?" he asked.

Jared tapped two fingers together.

"A formation."

"We set the Space-Stabilizing Stones as base points," he explained, voice quickening.

"Then I weave a temporary array with my five-element power—nothing fancy, just a Mini Wind-Sheltering Transposition Array."

"It doesn’t need to block everything," he continued.

"All we require is the few breaths it stays alive to sling us clean into the eye of that swirl."

The demon wasn’t fluent in arrays, but the grin that split his face said he understood enough.

"You keep inventing new games," he laughed. "Fine—I'll haul rocks and beat back whatever wind tries to bite."

Jared nodded once, sharp.

Action chased thought.

Both men sprang apart, purpose dividing the air between them.

A towering demon silhouette unfurled behind Vermilion, slipping between razor currents like a shark through reeds.

He ripped stone after stone from their drift paths, sometimes letting astral wind rake bloody grooves along his arms to claim a stubborn prize.

Meanwhile Jared darted from boulder to boulder, his fingers spilling sparks as temporary runes blossomed across each surface.

Every sigil locked a sliver of space, knitting the chaotic air into something that almost felt trustworthy.

He pressed his forefinger to the cold stone as though it were the only stylus left in the universe. Chaotic celestial energy seeped from the nailbed, dark and viscous, sketching a crawl of five-element and spatial locking sigils.

The environment roared around him—shredded currents, feral sparks—each pulse jarring his focus. He felt thought fray at the edges; one misplaced stroke and the carving would implode, hungry enough to bite back through bone and soul.

Twice a rolling knot of wild energy lunged out of the haze; another time an unseen rift yawned where there had been only gloom. Each threat met the Vermilion Demon Lord’s talon or his urgent tug, saving Jared by a breath.

A slit of void, silent as regret, slid so near it kissed the hairs on his spine. The warding glow ripped open, pain spiking; flesh parted to the bone, space-rot spiraling in the wound, hot blood soaking his robe.

"Stay sharp!" the Vermilion Demon Lord barked.

He bit down hard, tasting iron, and forced the four currents he depended on to knit a shield around his flesh.

Beside him the Vermilion Demon Lord spat out a guttural snarl, scarlet radiance erupting from every plated muscle.

Time dissolved.

It might have been a heartbeat, it might have been years.

Then the tearing stopped, as suddenly as a drum cut mid-beat.

Solid earth caught the soles of his boots.

Cool, unmarred air flooded his lungs.

Somewhere close, water chuckled over stone while bright birds argued in the canopy.

He staggered a single step, regained his knees’ obedience, and swept the clearing with a guarded stare.

The Demon Lord shook off an invisible ringing, slit pupils glinting as he scanned for threats.

What met their eyes froze both men where they stood.

They had walked into a valley the ordinary world had forgotten.

Above, the sky lay clear and blue, marbled only by lazy scraps of cloud.

Layer upon layer of jade-green ridges rose farther off, each draped in slow-moving veils of mist.

Closer, knee-high grass whispered around blooms so strange they hurt the memory of color, perfume lifting like cool wine.

A glass-bright stream threaded the meadow, each ripple pulsing with a dim silver glow.

At its edge a spirit-deer lowered delicate horns to drink while white cranes stepped through the reeds like drifting paper.

But the power floating in the air felt nothing like the twelve-tier heavens he knew.

It was older, heavier, the raw breath of creation before any god bothered to trim the edges.

With each inhale his core answered, chaotic celestial energy stirring first, then the coiled Golden Dragon blood humming in agreement.

"Jared, tell me this isn’t another fake—another trick." The Vermilion Demon Lord’s usual confidence sounded thin at the edges.