The King Of Warriors (Jared Chance) novel Chapter 5342

Beneath a vaulted sapphire sky, two streaks of light split the clouds and arrowed toward a wilderness of ancient trunks. They landed without a tremor, soft as dew, among roots the size of town walls.

Jared folded away the golden light around his frame. A faint sting of spatial energy still danced along his fingertips—an echo of the storm he had carved through to escape Cloud Brecan Mountains—while Flaxseed gulped another lungful, eyes shining.

Flaxseed felt the spiritual energy around his body soothe his meridians. “Wow! Jared, this level six celestial energy is richer than the spirit springs back on level five! I've been wedged at Earthly Immortal Realm Level Nine forever. Give me a few months of this bounty, and I might just achieve Human Immortal Realm!”

Jared was already turning in a slow circle, reading the lay of the land the way a seasoned hunter measures scent and wind before the first arrow ever leaves the bowstring.

There, the forest shared nothing with Darkwind Gorge of level five. Bolts of timber, wide enough to demand ten men's arms to surround them, rose into the light. Pale-gold moss clung to their bark, pulsing with weak spiritual energy.

Fist-sized spirit crystals littered the soil like scattered pearls. Sunlight rolled across their facets, throwing milky rainbows into the shade.

From somewhere deeper came the roar of a demon beast whose aura alone would send beginner-phase Earthly Immortal Realm cultivators from level five running for shelter.

“Stay sharp,” Jared murmured.

His palm rested on the Dragonslayer Sword at his hip. The blade answered with a low, quivering hum, as if telling him that the demon beasts on level six might not only be strong, but they could even have skills fused with celestial energy.

A branch snapped to their left. Wind howled in its wake, ripping last season's leaves into a spinning storm.

Something vast lunged from behind the trunks—a reptilian bulk plated in blue-black scales, a head like a crocodile enlarged by nightmare, three crimson eyes, and the ragged stumps of wings twitching on its spine. Slaver dripped from fangs long as daggers, each drop sizzling a smoking pit into the loam.

“Three-Eyed Corrosive Beast!” Flaxseed's face drained. “Ancient records from level five archives said its hide turns aside Earthly Immortal Realm Level Seven's blows, its spit is pure poison, and that third eye coughs soul-eating mist—one touch and your divine soul rots.”

The Three-Eyed Corrosive Beast fixed on Jared, its third eye blazed red, and a lance of ink-green vapor shot toward him.

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