A Man Like None Other (Jared Chance) novel Chapter 5808

Sword-shaped flames, flower-shaped flames, and roaming ember-clouds tore through the sealed space. Perception warped under the blistering heat. Razor-keen sword intent pressed from every direction, crushing and scorching whatever dared remain inside the domain.

That blistering tempest of blades was none other than Reiner's famed domain—a scorching nightmare he had ridden across level ten of the heavens, crushing every challenger as though the sky itself belonged to him.

Paxton shouted, his throat raw. "Sir!"

Clara's voice overlapped his, sharper, higher. "Mr. Chance!"

The others staggered back, horror blanching their faces. Beneath that hellish domain, they could scarcely defend themselves, let alone lend the slightest aid.

Jared gazed into the roaring inferno and sighed, the sound soft, almost regretful.

"So reason is off the table after all," he murmured, the words as calm as falling snow.

He reached behind him and closed his fingers around a long, time-worn hilt.

A single, clear hum rose, like a dragon's cry, like the first note struck when creation split the void.

The tone knifed through the raging flames, pierced the shrieking sword intent, and rang in every ear. Even the fire itself paused, as if listening.

Jared drew his blade.

The Dragonslayer Sword left its sheath.

No mountains toppled, no clouds tore apart.

Its steel was a dark chaos, swallowing the light that touched it.

He gave an almost casual flick of the wrist.

In that instant, an indescribable intent flooded outward.

It was neither heat nor frost, neither edge nor weight, but something beyond the five elements, a union of ruin and rebirth.

It felt like the first split of both sides of the world at the dawn of everything.

Against that intent, the Sky Scorching Sword Domain—once proud to incinerate all—now looked petty, almost hollow.

"What?"

Reiner's face paled. The sword intent he had cultivated for millennia bowed like a vassal before a king, trembling on the verge of collapse.

Impossible.

That blazing intent had been forged beside the Inextinguishable Ember for thousands of years—his supreme fire.

How could the sword will of a mere Human Immortal suppress it?

"Break," Jared whispered.

The Dragonslayer Sword slid forward along a trajectory too profound for words, so slow it seemed languid, yet so fast it ignored both space and flame, spearing straight toward the heart of the inferno.

Reiner watched the incoming strike. No swirling typhoon of sword energy, no blinding flare of light—only the quiet gleam of Jared's blade.

Yet wherever that needle-thin tip drifted, the roaring firestorm that made up his Sky Scorching Sword Domain melted away like frost beneath noon sun. Tongues of flame faded to wisps, then nothing at all. A brittle, glassy crackling rose from the very fabric of the domain, as though an enormous pane of colored crystal had been tapped by a finger and now spider-webbed with hairline fractures.

Crack!

That slash overturned everything I knew.

Should I keep fighting him?

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