A Man Like None Other (Jared Chance) novel Chapter 5587

Pressure far beyond this realm's tolerance cascaded out of the portal in a tangible tidal wave.

Day collapsed into dusk. Sun and moon vanished. Only the churning maw of the formation spat destructive radiance.

Boom!

From the swirling darkness thrust a single boot—stitched from beast hide, natural runes flowing faintly across the leather.

That solitary step shattered the earth below, dropping the ground by several yards. Without Maxwell's protective aura, Jared and the others would have been reduced to drifting ash.

A figure followed—clad in shadow-black armor etched with dragon runes, towering like some dread war-idol.

He was not overly tall, yet the universe seemed to pivot on his presence. Around him swirled visions of stars collapsing into ruin.

He released no deliberate killing intent; his existence alone wilted grass, bent laws, and forced every lesser path to kneel.

"Greetings, Protector Sovereign!"

Esorin led the surviving cultivators in trembling unison, prostrating themselves as though before a god.

Lucian Ashcroft's eyes swept across them—cold, detached, measuring them as insects pinned beneath glass.

His voice came low, yet it rang inside every soul present: "Who dares trespass upon the majesty of the Malevolent Path Hall?"

Emotionless words alone sent Onneas, Jared, and the rest spasming. Blood burst from their lips; a simple sound had wounded them gravely.

Fighting terror and wild elation, Esorin pointed a shaking finger at Maxwell. "Lord Ashcroft, that man! He slaughtered our disciples and mocked us. He deserves death a thousand times over!"

Lucian's gaze settled on Maxwell. Beneath that stare, whole worlds might crumble back into chaos.

Maxwell remained perfectly still. He did not so much as acknowledge the Sovereign, merely murmuring, "How noisy."

Before the final consonant faded, his sword darted free. No blinding radiance flared, no thunder split the heavens. The stroke came and went so fast it left no trace—so fast one could doubt it had ever been.

For the span of a breath, time itself forgot to flow. Space folded in on silence, wiped clean.

Esorin's mouth flapped, but no sound dared emerge.

Far below, Enaricus discovered his trousers soaking through. He was so scared that he wet himself. He had prayed the elder would summon a higher-realm savior; that hope died as swiftly as the last.

Maxwell was too strong—far, far too strong.

"Spare me—please, spare me! The Malevolent Path Hall forced my hand; I had no choice but to strike at Jared Chance!" Enaricus collapsed, crawling until his forehead touched Maxwell's boots.

He knew nothing of Maxwell's title, only that this swordsman fought beside Jared.

Maxwell's lip curled. "Save the honorifics. If you must address me, call me your ancestor."

Enaricus blinked, stunned. Onneas looked equally lost, unable to grasp what she had just heard.

Jared offered the answer. "Meet the founder of the Celestial Palace—the very first Hall Lord to sit its throne."