The King Of Warriors novel (Jared Chance) novel Chapter 5245

Steel flashed—so quick, so ruthless—that the air itself shrieked as the blade lunged for Jared’s chest. Flaxseed’s face drained of color. “Watch it!” he cried. Jared’s eyes narrowed to a single point of focus. Power surged through his veins, and in a heartbeat the Dragonslayer Sword leapt into his grip. He pivoted, meeting the oncoming strike head-on. The collision rang through the street like church bells at dawn.

Twin swords locked, spraying a shockwave that rippled over storefronts and set every hanging sign buzzing. Jared tasted iron in the back of his throat; numbing force crawled up his arm and shoved him two paces backward. The white-robed woman—Lyra Snowdon—also staggered a step, surprise flickering behind her steady gaze.

“Your sword technique...” Lyra studied the black blade and the simple arc Jared had just carved through space. Wonder widened her eyes. “That was the Sword Sect’s Flowing-Cloud Form, wasn’t it? Even unfinished, its rhythm is unmistakable.”

She recognized it? I only copied a few moves from the ruins back on level three. The revelation struck Jared harder than the clash of steel.

“I’ve never heard of any Sword Sect,” Jared said, lowering the Dragonslayer Sword yet keeping his weight poised to spring. “What you saw is something I developed on my own.”

Lyra shook her head, midnight hair swaying like a blade of its own. “Impossible. The essence of the Sword Sect lives in that strike. I could never mistake it. Who are you, really? Were you trained by the Sect?”

Jared held her stare and offered only silence, unwilling to claim a lineage long turned to dust.

“My name is Lyra Snowdon,” she said more gently. “I’m a disciple of the fallen Sword Sect. If you bear that legacy, then we are family, not enemies—there’s no need to fight.”

“I told you—I’m no disciple.” Jared’s brow furrowed. “So what is it you want from me?”

So she did rise from level three. Jared exhaled. “I found a ruined gate on that level, and practiced a few patterns etched on the walls. I didn’t know it belonged to your Sect until this moment.”

Jared’s eyes narrowed, a spark of calculation flaring behind them. If he followed Lyra Snowdon to meet the Sword Sect’s contact, he might unearth precious scraps of intelligence—perhaps even a clue to Malevolent Path Hall’s whereabouts.

“Very well,” he said with an easy nod. “We’ve only just reached Swordmaster City ourselves and could use a reliable guide.”

At Jared’s agreement, Flaxseed, still muddled by the exchange yet trusting his friend’s instinct, fell in step beside them.

They threaded through the humming avenue, and Jared angled his head toward Lyra. “That swordsman you crossed blades with at the gate—Kael Windham of Sacred Sword Manor—do the two of you share some old score I should know about?”