The King Of Warriors novel (Jared Chance) novel Chapter 5668

The punch carried pure Netherlord force; its wind growled with the promise of distant thunder.

"Netherlord Dominating Fist!"

Fist and claw collided, the resulting boom muffled yet savage, like a drum struck inside a tomb.

The crisp snap of breaking bone cut through the gloom.

Ghostshade shrieked—a thin, terrified note—while the infamous claws he trusted shattered under Neville's single, unstoppable fist, splintering like dead twigs beneath a storm boot.

The demon spun away like a severed kite, a ribbon of inky blood arcing behind him before his body slammed into the distant wall, ruining the stone and sliding down in a boneless heap. One punch—nothing more—had done all this.

The disciples of Nethergate Sect erupted, thunderous cheers crashing against the trembling pillars; hope, long smothered, flared in their eyes.

The Soul Devourer's eyes iced over. "Useless!" he growled, the single word colder than deep winter.

His cutting glare sliced across the remaining quartet beside him.

"Bloodshade, Boneshade—go. Bring me Neville Contreras, now!" the Soul Devourer commanded, each syllable a lash.

"Yes, my lord!" they answered in grim harmony.

The two stepped forward at once, shadows peeling from their forms as they obeyed.

The one to the left wore a robe dyed the color of fresh wounds; his face, knotted and cruel, steamed with roiling crimson mist—this was Bloodshade.

To the right towered Boneshade, a gray-white hulk plated in bone, spurs jutting from every joint like broken pikes.

Each stood at the peak of Heavenly Immortal Realm Level Two, and while neither matched Ghostshade alone, their practiced twin-strike art made them far deadlier together.

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