A Man Like None Other (Jared Chance) novel Chapter 5219

“Jared, what about that demon lord hiding in your consciousness field?” Flaxseed whispered, eyes flicking to the dark between trees. “Why hasn’t it lifted a finger to help you?”

Flaxseed squinted at Jared, curiosity flickering across his pockmarked face.

Why isn’t that Vermilion Demon Lord stirring? If you fall, his soul goes down with you—yet he’s quieter than a grave at midnight.

Jared frowned, the crease between his brows deepening. He reached inward, voice low and tentative. “Mr. Vermilion, can you hear me?” Only silence answered. “He’s playing dead,” Jared muttered at last. “We can’t count on him anymore.”

“What about your fire unicorn?” Flaxseed pressed, hope creeping into his tone. Jared shook his head. “Fire unicorn, Divine Bow—those are last-resort trump cards. I won’t draw them unless the heavens themselves close in on us.”

He tapped the coiled whip at his waist. “If those Blackshade Demon Palace hounds keep dogging our trail, I’ll test the Demon Flogger. It was forged in the Ethereal Realm, but I’ve no proof it can tame celestial realm’s demon cultivators. If its bite isn’t fierce enough, wielding it means nothing.”

Flaxseed balled his fist, frustration flashing in his eyes. “Are we meant to run forever?”

“Absolutely not.” Jared’s eyes snapped open, flaring with resolve. “Running solves nothing. We strike first. Baldric and that black-robed phantom proved several factions joined in wiping out our clan. We’ll track them down, gather every shard of evidence, and break them—one by one.”

By dusk, they pressed on toward Serpentcoil Mountain, its ridges winding like an ancient python asleep beneath the clouds. Dense jungle choked the slopes, and venomous snakes slithered through shadowed thickets, their hiss a constant warning.

Moving like ghosts, Jared and Flaxseed slipped past several Crimson Coil Sect patrols—snake demons of varied shapes, most at the first tier of the Earthly Immortal Realm, eyes sharp as blades seeking any hint of intruders.

Keeping his voice no louder than the sigh of wind through pine needles, Flaxseed leaned toward Jared. “The Crimson Coil Sect is guarded even tighter than Blackwind Stronghold,” he breathed. “Word of the Greenscale Gorge lord’s death has clearly reached them. They’ve doubled their watch.”

“That suits us just fine,” Jared replied, eyes fixed on the distant gate. “If they’re focused on Blackwind Stronghold’s next move, they’ll never imagine hunters prowling behind their backs. We nab a lone snake demon, shake loose the truth, and slip away before anyone misses her.”