A Man Like None Other (Jared Chance) novel Chapter 6685

The demonic cultivators turned bloodless.

Some clenched their fists until their nails sank into their palms.

Some lowered their heads, unable to face the blinding gold in the sky.

In others, fear slowly twisted into anger. Their chests rose and fell hard, each breath heavy and rough.

"Enough!"

The shout cracked across the ice field and cut off Grand Elder Greenwood's sneer.

Jared stood in front of everyone.

His violet eyes were colder than steel. The bitter wind whipped his gray robe behind him, making the hem snap like a banner.

He did not raise his voice, yet it pierced through the wind and the golden pressure, landing clearly in every ear.

"Fight if you want to fight. Where did all this talk come from?"

Grand Elder Greenwood's eyes settled on him.

A dark, cold glint moved through them.

"So you are Jared Chance? A Golden Immortal Level Two insect dares bark in front of me? Do you understand that I can crush you with one hand?"

"Then do it."

Jared's tone was almost casual. A faint curve even touched his mouth. "You think running your mouth from up there will kill us? Come down and try."

Grand Elder Greenwood's expression sank.

He had lived for tens of thousands of years. He was an elder of the Celestial High Temple, a name that carried weight across the Twentieth Firmament.

No Golden Immortal Level Two junior had ever spoken to him this way.

That careless tone, that open disregard, poured oil straight onto his anger.

"Good. If you are so eager to die, I will oblige you."

He lifted his right hand.

Gold light gathered violently in his palm and formed a command arrow. It shot into the sky and burst apart.

Countless specks of gold rained down like falling stars, each leaving a bright trail across the night.

"Kill them. Leave no survivors."

The order fell.

The world seemed to shift.

Tens of thousands of celestial and human cultivators moved at once.

The ice field shook under the stampede. A dull roar traveled through the frozen ground, and cracks spread through the ice in thick, jagged lines.

Golden light surged forward in a wave. Cold flashes from weapons and arcane implements wove together under the moon until the whole field seemed covered by a net of death.

Battle cries tore the quiet apart.

"Kill!"

"Kill demonic cultivators and trade their heads for golden elixirs!"

"Do not let a single one escape. Every demon head is an elixir. One elixir could raise your realm!"

The celestial cultivators charged first.

Golden divine light burned over them. Under the moon, they looked like arrows loosed from a thousand bows.

Their eyes were feverish.

Faith and greed had merged inside them. There was no hesitation, no pity, only the urge to slaughter.

The human cultivators came close behind.

They did not have the celestials' blind devotion, but greed had already eaten through their reason.

The promised elixirs lashed at them like an invisible whip, driving them toward the demonic cultivators, who looked as if their courage had already broken.

Their hands trembled around their weapons.

Not from fear.

From excitement.

The demonic cultivators began to shake.

They stared at the enemy tide rushing over the ice, at the golden light filling the night, at the forest of weapons aimed at them.

Despair soaked through them like freezing water.

Someone stepped back without realizing it.

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