The King Of Warriors novel (Jared Chance) novel Chapter 5606

Myles reemerged amid swirling dust, only to find a woman in shadow-black robes and several strangers blocking the path. His brow dug a hard line across his forehead. "Identify yourselves." His demand drifted across the stilled air, each word a warning that battle might follow the answer.

The woman, Rowena's cloak flared behind her like a shard of midnight glass. Her eyes—hard, glacial—swept across Myles' party before freezing on him. "We are disciples of the Nethergate Sect. This man holds our Golden Pass. While that sigil shines, he stands beneath our shield. Touch him, and you make corpses of us first."

Myles answered with a crooked smile that cut as deep as the sword at his hip. "Nethergate Sect? Step aside. The Malevolent Path Hall has business here. Interrupt us again, and we will not stay civil."

Rowena's jaw tightened, fury flashing like lightning behind her dark lashes. "The Malevolent Path Hall means nothing to us. If you thirst for blood, begin with ours—only then may you reach the man you seek."

The sneer vanished from Myles' face, replaced by a murderous chill. He had expected fear, not defiance.

"Then die for your arrogance."

His roar cracked the still air. Four of his black-clad subordinates sprang forward as his sword carved a silver arc toward the disciples of the Nethergate Sect.

Steel met steel. Sparks hissed like angry snakes, and the clearing exploded into chaos.

Outnumbered yet unbowed, the Nethergate elites answered with blades honed by hardship. Their war cries rose, fierce and steady, as they locked steel with the advancing assassins.

Rowena snapped her whip. The ebony coil morphed into a black dragon, lancing across the melee toward Myles himself.

Myles met it with a lazy flick of his sword, parrying the dragon-whip in a bright shower of sparks.

"Is that all you can do?"

With that taunt still hanging in the wind, he blurred—lightning given human form—rushing straight for Rowena's heart.

Rowena's breath snagged. She had known he was quick; she had not imagined he could vanish between beats of her heart.

She twisted aside, lashing low. The whip curled like a living thing, hunting Myles' ankle.

Myles bicycled upward, the tip of one boot barely kissing the earth as he vaulted over the snare.

From mid-air, his blade sang, releasing a crescent of sword-light that screamed toward Rowena's chest.

Rowena cracked her whip again. The cord split the air, shattering the sword-light into harmless motes that died before reaching her.

I will not wait for death like livestock in a pen.

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