A Man Like None Other (Jared Chance) novel Chapter 5315

Ararat’s voice dropped to a steely murmur. “If we meet them head-on, we will be crushed. Our only hope is to fortify these walls and pray for rescue. I have already sent word to a few old comrades in Swordmaster City. May fond memories move them to fight alongside us.”

Jared shook his head, amber eyes lit by a stubborn flame. “We can’t wait. If Lester is bold enough to march here, he has prepared for every delay. Each minute we hesitate tilts the field against us.”

He swept his gaze over the anxious faces crowding the hall. “If they appear at dawn, I’ll step outside and greet Lester myself.”

“Absolutely not!” Corin darted forward. “Lester is at the eighth level of the Earthly Immortal Realm. You are nowhere near his equal.”

Jared offered a smile that barely touched his eyes. “Trust me, Master Morden. I have a way.” He raised his hand, and the storage ring on his finger gleamed.

A bow slid into the starlight—its frame obsidian black, filigreed with tangled gold sigils. A hush of dragon’s power coiled around the weapon.

Ararat’s pupils pinpointed. “That… that is the Divine Bow. I thought it lost to legend, yet you hold it in your hands!”

“The bow amplifies my strength,” Jared said, palm gliding along the bow. “With it, I might stand toe-to-toe with Lester.”

Kishor let out a low whistle, admiration slicing through his usual bravado. “You sly fox! Hiding treasure in plain sight. With that beauty, we might flip the entire board.”

Ararat’s expression hardened again. “But unless the sky itself is falling, you must not draw it. The Divine Bow is a sacred item. Using it would cause bigger trouble.”

Jared fell silent, the truth of Ararat’s warning pressing on his chest.

Night deepened, yet the Sword Sect was brightly lit.

Everyone was preparing for the battle. The sound of creating charms echoed throughout the sect.

Alone on a tilted rooftop, Jared watched a crescent moon bleed into clouds. Cold wind tugged his robe, but his fingers stayed warm against the Divine Bow, feeling the ancient heartbeat slumbering inside maple-dark wood.

“Mr. Vermilion, what game are you playing?” Jared whispered into the night, hoping the wind might carry the question to whatever shadow listened.

Only silence answered. Since that one brief warning in the Darkwind Gorge, the Vermilion Demon Lord had vanished again, unreachable no matter how loudly Jared’s spirit called.

Suddenly, the storage ring pulsed, as though something inside had awakened and was impatient to be freed.

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