The King Of Warriors novel (Jared Chance) novel Chapter 5275

The instant Caleb's blade was about to kiss Jared, Jared moved. He did not unsheathe Dragonslayer Sword. Instead, he swayed his torso a fraction to the side. It was like willow leaves caught in a spring breeze, slow only to the eye, yet somehow fast enough to let steel slip past harmlessly. At the same time, he pressed his fore- and middle fingers together and flicked the surface of Caleb's blade.

Ding!

The note rang clear as crystal. A strange force hummed along the sword, numbing Caleb's wrist. The weapon kicked upward, no longer his to command.

Panic cracked across Caleb's face. He tried to pull back, but Jared was already there in a flash. His fingertips were haloed in pale gold, driving straight for Caleb's sword hand.

That single touch erased every escape Caleb had rehearsed. Instinct screamed. He let go of the hilt and staggered backward, desperate for distance.

Jared allowed none. He slid in half a step, right foot gliding after the left. His whole body seemed to merge with Caleb's shadow. Then his left hand came to rest, almost tenderly, on Caleb's shoulder.

“Thank you for the lesson.” Jared's voice was soft, almost courteous.

A gentle but irresistible force rolled through Caleb's body. He lurched forward three steps, very nearly pitching off the platform before he managed to steady himself. Only then did he realize Dragonslayer Sword still slept in its scabbard at Jared's waist. Color drained from his cheeks at the thought.

He didn't even draw his sword... and I already lost?

For a breathless beat, the arena fell utterly silent. No one believed what their own eyes had reported.

Then, the stands erupted in thunderous roars.

“That movement technique was as fast as lightning!”

“What finger technique can bat away an Earthly Immortal Realm sword technique?”

“Jared—now that's a swordsman!”

Lyra and the others leaped to their feet, shouting until their throats stung. Flaxseed slapped his thigh and cackled. “Told you the kid knows a thing or two!”

Each sweeping arc of his longsword howled, shredding the air like ripping canvas. The phantom blades he spun were heavy as falling meteors, and within their shadows, tiny pricks of lightning flickered, strobing across polished steel.

His opponent's technique was all brute force. After only three exchanges, Jayson's blade hammered aside the former's weapon, sending it spinning. A heartbeat later, cold steel touched the disciple's exposed throat.

“I yield!” his opponent shouted, his face a ghostly pale.

With deliberate calm, Jayson withdrew the blade, then let his gaze roam over the sea of spectators before pinning it on Jared—a look that dripped with open provocation. Jared answered with nothing more than a mild, indifferent stare, as if the challenge had slid off him like rain from oiled cloth.

At the close of round one, only thirty-two contestants remained. Among them, Jared was the only one in the Wandering Immortal Realm.

The feat forced onlookers to recalibrate their opinion of him; luck could never carry someone weak this far.

From that battle alone, Jared's name was on every tongue in Swordmaster City.