A Man Like None Other (Jared Chance) novel Chapter 5271

Jared stood silent for a breath; he understood what Onneas' goodwill signified. With Fourth Hall behind him, hunting the Malevolent Path Hall would unfold far more smoothly. Yet he also knew that the Celestial Palace seethed with factions. Enaricus and Drystan would never simply back down.

“I can agree to the truce. But if anyone else in the Celestial Palace comes at me like Drystan did, I won't sit back and do nothing.”

Isabel nodded. “Naturally. Onneas has circulated a decree—should any other lord trouble you, they will be deemed enemies of our hall. We also know you're probing the branch of Malevolent Path Hall hidden in Darkwind Gorge. If you need scouts or soldiers, send one message. Onneas will see you aided.”

Jared felt a subtle stir of hope. Alice's intelligence network was broad, yet it could not match the Celestial Palace's deep roots.

“In that case, my thanks to Onneas, and to you, Ms. Yeats.”

Isabel's lips curved in a faint smile. “Take time to heal, Mr. Chance. I shall take my leave.”

With a swirl, she blurred into cyan smoke, vanishing before Jared could blink.

Flaxseed whistled in the direction Isabel disappeared, eyes bright with awe.

“That lady is something else—Earthly Immortal Realm Level Nine, I'd wager. Stronger than Drystan himself! Jared, can we really trust Onneas?”

“For now, we gain from their favor.”

He turned to Kishor and Alice, regret clouding his gaze. “Sorry for dragging you into this today.”

Kishor dismissed the concern with a sweep of his hand, then slipped the final healing pellet between Alice's lips. “Nonsense. You saved us. Guarding you is only right. That branch of Malevolent Path Hall sounds dangerous. Let me go with you.”

Alice chimed in with a nod. “Whispers Tower has agents embedded in Darkwind Gorge. I can have them meet you.”

Jared's chest warmed at their loyalty, yet he still shook his head. “You two just reconciled. Rest first. I can handle Malevolent Path Hall.”

Corin's mansion lay deep in a bamboo grove on the western edge of Swordmaster City. There, a single austere hut forever perfumed by the scent of steel stood.

Before the hut, hundreds of rusted blades were planted upright in the earth, forming a forest of forgotten weapons.

Corin had gathered them during his early wanderings, salvaging them from battlefields and ruined sects. “A sword may break,” he often said, “but intent endures. Study these ruins, and you glimpse the paths of those before us.”

Dawn bled slowly across the sword-grove, but Jared was already awake. He sat cross-legged between weather-scarred trunks, drawing each breath until cold morning air hissed through his teeth and spilled back out in a ribbon of white mist.

The pills Isabel had slipped into his palm days earlier still worked like hidden embers. Scabs sealed the gashes that a taloned beast had raked down his back, and the Warm Jade Charm tucked at his belt coaxed the last veins of negative energy from his marrow.

Even more astonishing was the grove itself. Sword essence hung so thick it felt almost liquid, soaking into him until his spiritual energy flowed smoother than it ever had. The ceiling that had caged him at Wandering Immortal Realm Level Seven trembled, as if it were giving way.