A Man Like None Other (Jared Chance) novel Chapter 5302

A dull, rib-shaking thud split the air.

A mountain-sized force slammed into Jared's spine. He shot through the hall like a severed kite.

He punched a ragged hole through the palace's glazed roof tiles, then tumbled onto the plaza outside, landing in a broken, bleeding heap.

“Jared!”

Flaxseed and Corin cried out together, forgetting everything else as they sprinted toward the fallen warrior.

Santino hovered above the plaza, gazing down at Jared's crumpled form like a hawk over dying prey. “A wandering immortal is weak,” he said, lips curling. “Genius or not, you can't defeat me with a realm difference.”

He raised his right hand. In his palm, a sphere as blinding as a newborn sun ignited, its heat warping the very air.

“It ends now.”

The searing orb drifted downward. Wherever it passed, stone liquefied and hissed into ghost-white vapor.

At that instant, Flaxseed and Corin slid to Jared's side.

Flaxseed hurled every charm he owned, each slip of paper flaring like a firebrand as they fused in midair and knitted themselves into a bulwark of incandescent runes. At his side, Corin raised his long sword across his chest, the blade already humming, and together they summoned every drop of spiritual energy in their bodies, bracing for the killing blow they knew could not be dodged.

“You overestimate yourselves.” Santino sneered, his voice chilled with contempt. The radiant sphere resting in his palm trembled.

Boom!

An impact like thunder slammed through the courtyard, rattling loose roof tiles and sending frightened birds screaming into the dusk sky. Flaxseed and Corin coughed up blood, their bodies hurled backward until they hit the stone paving with a sound that made everyone flinch. They lay crumpled and motionless, life or death uncertain.

Jared forced his head up. Bloodshot eyes fixed on his two unconscious companions, rage and guilt pulsing brighter than the pain that clawed at his chest. He tried to stand, yet nothing answered. His limbs were numb. Inside, his spiritual energy and marked aura tore at each other like animals in a cage, leaving him powerless and shaking.

Crack!

A lone figure in white stepped through the air. His pace was unhurried, yet each footfall radiated authority vast enough to press the breath from ordinary lungs. In his hand rested an unadorned longsword. His features were striking, his gaze detached as if all beneath the heavens were mere background noise.

Jared's pupils contracted. He knew that face. Only days ago, on the Celestial Stairway, he had saved the swordsman, Ararat.

Ararat landed before Jared. With a casual flick of his wrist, a gentle wave of sword energy swept across Jared, Flaxseed, and Corin. Torn flesh knitted. Bones realigned. Breaths became steady in the space of a heartbeat.

He turned toward Santino. His tone stayed calm, but death glimmered beneath the words. “You harmed Mr. Chance. For that, you must die.”

Santino's swagger collapsed into a tremor. “A-Ararat? You vanished centuries ago! How can you be here? And how did you know Jared?”

Ararat did not answer Santino's question directly. He said, “Mr. Chance is my Master.”

Master? The single word detonated in every ear, louder than any thunderclap. Silence followed—shocked, absolute.