The King Of Warriors novel (Jared Chance) novel Chapter 5247

The blade’s path seemed unremarkable, yet a hidden cadence rippled out like drifting clouds after summer rain—precisely the first motion of the Flowing Cloud salvaged from the Sword Sect’s fallen shrine.

The elder’s eyes flared bright, banishing their haze. His breath caught. “Excellent—truly the Flowing Cloud form!”

“You have only sampled its surface,” he said, awe twining with delight, “but the spirit is faultless—better than Lyra has yet managed.” Lyra puffed her cheeks in quiet protest yet offered no rebuttal; the verdict rang true.

Setting his hoe aside, the elder stepped close, studying Jared’s posture the way a jeweler studies light through crystal. “Where did you learn that stroke? Speak plainly.”

Jared knew subterfuge would crumble beneath those eyes. “Within a ruin on level three of the heavens,” he confessed. “I didn’t realize it once belonged to the Sword Sect.”

Sorrow lined the elder’s face. “So the old gate has become a ruin,” he murmured. “Once we stood among the greatest in the third heaven—now reduced to dust and rumor.” He exhaled heavily. “Come inside. We will speak there.”

They entered a simple cottage: one rough-hewn table, a scattering of chairs, air scented with dried tea leaves still clinging to memory.

Pouring three cups, the elder offered a faint smile. “My name is Corin Morden,” he said. “I was once the sect leader of the Sword Sect. When calamity struck, I escaped the third level with a handful of disciples, preserving a thread of our bloodline.”

Jared and Flaxseed exchanged startled glances; the old gardener had just revealed himself as a legend.

Jared leaned in. “Mr. Corin, do you know of the Malevolent Path Hall?”

At the name, Corin’s expression hardened like frost on iron. “Why chase those devils?”

“Is there anyone who might know?” Jared pressed, refusing to yield to disappointment.

Corin tapped the air as though arranging memories. “In Swordmaster City stands Whispers Tower. They sell rumors the way smiths sell iron. Pay enough and perhaps a floor clerk will whisper Malevolent Path Hall’s location.”

“Just remember,” he added, voice lowering, “the tower answers to powers even I can’t read, and truth is a slippery coin. Step carefully.”

Jared rose and bowed. “Thank you, Mr. Corin. We’ll head there at once.”

“Hold on.” Corin’s calm voice stopped them at the gate. “Your gift with a blade is rare. Why not pledge it to Sword Sect? Our ranks are thin. Even so, we can feed your training with manuals and ore, and with our sigil on your chest, no one in Swordmaster City would dare lay a hand on you.”