A Man Like None Other (Jared Chance) novel Chapter 5237

“What?” Flaxseed’s head snapped up, his gaunt cheeks flushing with a feverish light. “Say that again. Are you telling me my clan’s souls are still out there?” Varek nodded once—slow, deliberate. “Everything points that way. The Malevolent Path Hall uses a depraved art that melts stolen spirits into its own strength.”

He drew a careful breath. “They harvested too many Flaxseed clan members’ souls to consume at one stroke. Some remain in cages of darkness, waiting—and suffering.”

At those words, tears rolled down Flaxseed’s face, trembling like beads of rain on cracked earth. “Thank Heaven... If their souls survive, rebirth is still possible.”

Jared laid a steady hand on Flaxseed’s shoulder. “You have my word. We’ll pry those spirits free and give your kin the peace they deserve.” Varek cleared his throat. “I can help. I’ll question my younger brother and track the exact location of the Flaxseed souls. Malevolent Path branches lurk everywhere, hoarding the dead. Without an insider, you’ll chase smoke.”

As long as they still need me, I stay alive.

Jared’s gaze turned to ice. “I’m sparing you—for now. Betray us, and I’ll shatter your spirit into nothing.”

Varek collapsed to his knees, bowing so hard his forehead thudded against the tiles. “I wouldn’t dare. I will bring back the truth—nothing less.”

Cold sweat soaked his back, yet the tiniest spark of relief flickered behind his lowered eyes.

Flaxseed’s jaw tightened. An ocean of blood-debt rose behind his eyes as he stared at Lunaria, the demon princess who quivered beside her father. He advanced one step, then another. Lunaria blanched, shrinking behind Varek’s trembling frame.

“Father, help me!” she cried, voice cracking with terror.

Once they left the Blackshade Demon Palace, Kishor’s deep voice rumbled through the night air. “Nine Serpent Mountain shelters factions that aided this slaughter. Why not use today’s momentum and level them all?”

A shard of frost glittered in Jared’s eyes. “That matches my thinking. Tear the roots out, and weeds never grow back.”

Flaxseed cracked his knuckles with grim anticipation. “Long overdue. Let’s finish what was started.”

Wrapped in Kishor’s unstoppable presence, the three swept across Nine Serpent Mountain like wildfire born of thunder. Lesser factions—once loud, proud, and snarling—crumbled the instant his hand flicked. By nightfall rivers ran scarlet. Courtyards became charnel pits. Screams that had once pledged loyalty to Blackshade Demon Palace never even formed a plea for mercy before being stamped out forever.