The King Of Warriors novel (Jared Chance) novel Chapter 5759

“What you say is absolutely right, sir!"

Gavin nodded repeatedly, a pleading look appearing on his face. "Sir, Elder Flint has already fallen, and Rockhold Gorge has been destroyed. We must return to the Myriad Beast Sect headquarters at once to report this matter. Sir, your kindness toward us is unforgettable. We sincerely ask you to accompany us to the headquarters! There are countless powerful figures there. You'll be properly received, and the sect master will personally learn of your help—and your strength."

Beside him, Yvette nodded so hard her pupils quivered with hope.

They had witnessed Jared's true might. If this mysterious savior walked into their headquarters, it could shift not only their personal fates but the very balance in their brutal war with the Infinite Soul Demon Sect.

Jared hesitated only a breath. He needed a base of operations to hunt information on the Infinite Soul Demon Sect and its master, the Soul Devourer. The Myriad Beast Sect—local, powerful, and already at odds with his enemies—was an obvious choice, Garrick's arrogance notwithstanding.

"Very well," Jared said, nothing more.

The simple answer hit Gavin and Yvette like sunrise. Relief flashed across their faces before they leapt into motion.

They rallied the dozen remaining disciples, gathered fallen comrades' keepsakes, and set the gorge ablaze—better ashes than fodder for the Infinite Soul Demon Sect.

Under star-drowned skies, the party slipped into the deeper reaches of the Myriad Beast Mountains, Gavin and Yvette leading while Jared's silent presence hovered like an invisible shield.

Beyond scorched Rockhold Gorge, the forest thickened into primeval darkness. Every branch dripped with unknown threats, every gust of wind carried the scent of lurking predators.

The deeper they went, the richer the spiritual energy—pearlescent veils that promised power yet hid monstrosities sharpened by that same energy.

Had Jared not been there, Gavin and the other wounded disciples would have collapsed long before the halfway mark.

A cloud of Blood-Wing Bats—each the size of a war-horse, fangs gleaming—descended like living night to blot out the moon.

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