The King Of Warriors novel (Jared Chance) novel Chapter 6735

The few surviving Demonic Cultivator leaders watched as the ecstasy on their faces slowly hardened into confusion, then transformed into fresh terror.

They had clearly seen the celestial exalted reverse time. They had clearly watched him resurrect Aureon once before. Why did it not work this time?

Why had the same technique suddenly failed?

The celestial experts also stared in disbelief. Their young master had never failed when using Spacetime Reversal.

Yet now...

The man in white lowered his sword.

The cold moonlight on the blade rapidly dimmed. The silver-white ripples of spacetime receded like an ebbing tide.

He remained silent for a moment before slowly turning around. His gaze passed over the bodies and congealed blood covering the ground, then settled on the middle-aged man who had not taken a single step since his arrival.

Mr. Sanders remained where he had first appeared.

He had not moved half a step from beginning to end.

His arms rested naturally at his sides. He had assumed no stance in preparation for an attack, raised no defense, and displayed none of the vigilance expected of a cultivator.

He looked like an ordinary middle-aged passerby who had happened to appear in the one place where he least belonged, at the least likely moment.

Yet something beyond description surrounded him.

It was not pressure, killing intent, or any form of power that could be sensed or described.

It belonged to no law, no form of law resonance, and did not even belong to this world.

It seemed to come from a higher, wholly different dimension. It was like a force capable of erasing ink from a painting.

It did not cover or alter what was there. It made something that had once existed cease to exist at all.

The man in white remained silent for a long time.

His gaze rested on Mr. Sanders for a full 50 seconds.

During those 50 seconds, his expression shifted from indifference to gravity, then from gravity to wariness, before finally settling into an emotion he had never experienced in tens of thousands of years.

It felt like a chill rising from the deepest reaches of instinct, one he could not suppress no matter how hard he tried.

"Who are you?" the man in white finally asked.

His voice remained calm, but the aloof superiority had vanished from it. In its place was the cautious restraint of someone struggling to keep something under control.

Mr. Sanders looked at him without answering.

His gaze was as peaceful as a deep pool untouched by wind. No one could see its bottom or detect the slightest ripple of emotion.

The man in white tightened his fingers around the hilt of his snow-white sword.

Cold moonlight trembled along the blade in answer to the tiny seed of unease within its wielder.

"I am a disciple of the Divine Sovereign of Time. I command temporal origin and serve the orthodox celestial lineage of the Twenty-First Firmament.

"You have interfered in celestial affairs and killed our appointed representative. Do you understand the consequences?"

A deliberate chill entered his voice, as though he hoped his identity and background could compensate for the unease welling inside him.

He had revealed his origins, the faction he served, and the powerful figure supporting him.

The combined weight of the orthodox celestial lineage and a disciple of the Divine Sovereign of Time was enough to force any faction or expert in the Lower Realm to retreat.

His warning ended abruptly when Mr. Sanders' eyes drifted his way. The glance lasted barely an instant, so briefly that almost no one else noticed.

It held no emotion or discernible power.

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