A Man Like None Other (Jared Chance) novel Chapter 5129

At their head strode a snow-haired elder. A single, enormous white feather jutted from the crown of his head, and deep furrows of age etched his face. This was none other than Troynar, Grand Elder of the Barbaric Clan, an elite in the Wandering Immortal Realm Level Eight.

“Everett Cloud?”

Troynar’s gaze, sharp as a hawk’s, fixed on Everett with blazing fury. “How dare you! Our clan has never trafficked with Azurecloud Sect. You bring outsiders to trespass on our lands—have you grown tired of living?”

Everett’s knees nearly buckled. Stammering, he managed, “G-Grand Elder Troynar, I…I brought this Mr. Chance…”

“Mr. Chance?”

Troynar let out a cold laugh. His eyes swept over Jared’s youthful, unremarkable appearance, and he snorted in contempt. “This wet-behind-the-ears cub? And you call him ‘Mister’? Has Azurecloud Sect stooped to acting like a lapdog?”

Mocked so openly, Everett dared not utter a single word in protest; compared to the Barbaric Clan, his own sect scarcely merited mention.

“Your Barbaric King is missing, isn’t he?”

Jared arched a brow, the corner of his mouth curling with amused interest.

Troynar frowned. “How would you know that?”

“Can I say I guessed?” Jared answered with a light chuckle.

“Guessed? Do you take me for a fool?” Troynar’s anger surged. Jabbing a finger at Everett’s nose, he roared, “Everett, you dare bring troublemakers here? Believe me, I’ll twist your head off this instant!”

Everett turned deathly pale and waved his hands frantically. “N-no, Grand Elder Troynar, this Mr. Chance, he—”

“Enough!”

Jared cut him off, impatient with the drawn-out exchange.

With a flick of his wrist, he produced a freshly severed, blood-soaked head, holding it aloft for a heartbeat before tossing it casually to land at Troynar’s feet.

“You—who are you, to behave so outrageously in the Barbaric Clan—” Troynar began, but the words froze on his tongue as his gaze locked onto the head. His pupils constricted violently.

The face was twisted in a death grimace, yet unmistakable—it was Orestes the Barbaric King, the leader of the Barbaric Clan!

Everett hurried to add, “Grand Elder Troynar, Mr. Chance means exactly what he says. Don’t let his cultivation level fool you—if he wished, he could finish you off just as easily!”

“Are you that desperate to die?”

Troynar clenched his jaw so hard the tendons in his neck stood out, his entire face contorted with murderous intent.

“Avenge our king!”

“Kill him!”

The moment their initial shock passed, everyone of the Barbaric Clan erupted in a tidal wave of fury that seemed to shake the very air.

Dozens of experts at the Level Six and Seven of the Wandering Immortal Realm roared in unison and charged straight at Jared.

The elders at the front went even further, brandishing the clan’s secret treasures—Blacksteel Spiked Clubs, Bloodthirst Bone Spears, and Skyshatter Beasthide Shields—unleashing a storm of savage and domineering strikes that rained down upon Jared like a collapsing sky.

“Cheap tricks,” Jared snorted. He did not even bother drawing the Dragonslayer Sword; instead, a blinding golden radiance flared from his body as the Golem Body activated of its own accord.