The King Of Warriors novel (Jared Chance) novel Chapter 5756

The Green-Flame Skulls spewed viscous Netherworld Ghostfire. Anything it touched erupted—flesh blistered, spirits sizzled.

Garrick fought both leaders alone. Tiger-claw strikes tore open space, forcing them back, yet coordinated assaults and cursed relics steadily closed around him. Ghostfire grazed his left arm. It hissed, chewing flesh and spirit alike, drawing a snarl of pain.

Blood streamed from gouges cut clear to the bone.

Nearby, Gavin and Yvette stood back-to-back, still nursing old wounds, trading desperate blows with several demon cultivators.

A chain coiled round Gavin's axe. Another assailant darted in, a poisoned dagger aimed at his exposed spine.

Yvette's twin blades blurred, but a sudden Soul Spike pierced her shoulder. She gasped; her rhythm faltered, death rushing in.

Rockhold Gorge had become hell.

Huts collapsed, flames roared skyward, and mangled bodies of friend and foe painted the ground crimson.

Though the beast warriors were fierce, superior power and soul-reaving sorcery foretold only one conclusion.

Garrick's eyes widened as disciple after disciple fell. Despair, bitter, and regret gnawed his heart.

Is this the night Rockhold Gorge falls?

As Gavin and Yvette braced for the final strike and even Garrick felt hope gutter out, a clear, glacial sword-cry ripped across the gorge, louder than battle, bright as dawn.

The brilliance arrived like a comet, dazzling, unstoppable. Five colors braided into a single blade that seemed to gather every glimmer the universe could muster. It carved through darkness and silence alike, announcing—without words—that salvation had come.

A streak of steel leapt through the night like a meteor, tearing open black silk. It traveled faster than thought, crossing the ravaged gorge in a single flash before anyone understood what they had seen.

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