A Man Like None Other (Jared Chance) novel Chapter 6602

"Jared..."

Florian's voice had gone raw. "If you kill me... the Ember God Palace won't let this go... the Court Master will avenge me..."

Jared walked up to him and stopped three steps away.

His violet eyes looked down at Florian without a trace of emotion, like an executioner looking at a condemned man waiting for sentence to be carried out.

"Aurelius?"

His voice stayed calm. "He'll come for me. But it won't be for you. It'll be for himself. Because I'm going to find him."

Florian's pupils contracted violently.

"Y-you're going to find the Court Master?"

Jared didn't answer.

He only raised the Dragonslayer Sword.

Violet sword energy gathered along the blade, washing Florian's bloodless face in purple light.

"Any last words?" Jared asked, his voice flat and calm.

Florian parted his lips, trying to speak, but nothing came out.

He knew it was useless. Nothing he said would matter in front of Jared.

He closed his eyes.

The sword came down.

The violet sword-arc cut across Florian's neck. His head flew off, spun several times through the air, then hit the ground and rolled far away.

The headless body went rigid for a brief second, then slowly toppled and slammed into the gray-white sand with a heavy thud.

Golden blood gushed from the severed neck, dyeing the gray-white sand a dark gold.

Florian, Vice Court Master of the Ember God Palace, Golden Immortal Level Four, had fallen.

Silence settled over the battlefield again.

All that remained was the wind keening over the sand and, far off, the low rasping cries of ancient remnant souls.

More than thirty bodies lay scattered across the ground. Golden blood and dark-crimson blood braided together over the gray-white sand, forming a scene so grotesque it looked painted there.

Jared put away the Dragonslayer Sword and stood in the heart of the battlefield.

His violet eyes swept across the corpses at his feet without the slightest ripple of emotion.

He was not a man who killed for pleasure.

But some people deserved to die.

Killing celestials was only natural for him.

Cedric had been using him from the very beginning.

In Cedric's eyes, he had never been anything more than a piece on the board—a useful one, but still a piece.

If that piece was worth more than the risk, Cedric would protect him.

If killing him promised greater profit, Cedric would strike without a second's hesitation.

So killing Cedric had been only natural too.

Jared bent down and picked up Gloamdeep from the ground.

The duskgold radiance along the blade had dimmed considerably, but the sword still gave off a shocking sword aura.

He could feel it clearly—an overwhelmingly powerful force slept inside the sword.

It did not belong to Cedric. It did not belong to anyone.

It belonged to the sword itself.

The sword spirit of Gloamdeep.

Jared placed Gloamdeep into his Storage Ring.

The sword was too powerful. Even the man in white, a half-step saint, had warned that whoever wielded it would inevitably be devoured by its master.

He still couldn't use it. He would have to wait until his cultivation was higher, then study it slowly.

Then he removed the Storage Ring from Cedric's finger and sent his spirit sense inside.

The resources inside were even richer than the treasury of the Hall of Radiance.

Emberstone crystals, healing elixirs, arcane implements, technique scrolls, spirit materials—everything was there.

Cedric had served as the chapter master of the Abyssal Exchange for tens of thousands of years. The wealth he had amassed was far beyond what ordinary Golden Immortal cultivators could imagine.

Jared then stripped the Storage Rings from the dead celestial cultivators as well. The resources inside those ordinary cultivators' rings were limited, but a little was still a little, and there was no reason to leave any of it behind.

Combined with the resources the man in white had given him, it was enough for him to break from True Immortal Realm Level Nine into the Golden Immortal Realm.

Jared put the Storage Rings away, turned, and started toward the void passage.

After only a few steps, he stopped abruptly and looked back over his shoulder.

The gray-white earth was a wreck, scarred everywhere by the battle.

The ruins of the stone tomb still sent black smoke into the gray sky, and bodies from both the celestials and the cultivators of the Abyssal Exchange lay strewn across the ground.

Golden blood and dark-crimson blood ran together through the sand, making the whole place look warped and savage.

Far off at the horizon, gray mist drifted in slow currents, like silent gray rivers flowing through the sky.

And farther still, the sleeping ancient remnant souls let out low, ragged cries, as if mourning this battle with a bleak funeral song.

Jared drew back his gaze and kept walking toward the void passage.

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