The King Of Warriors novel (Jared Chance) novel Chapter 5266

Over the next few days, while nursing his own wounds, Jared spent long hours in quiet chambers with Alice, probing every corner of the Demonic Cultivation she had once embraced.

What he uncovered was ruthlessly efficient. The technique devoured ambient celestial energy—and even its user's life force—converting both into a brutal power surge. The grotesque swelling of her body was nothing more than cells and meridians warping under that assault.

Jared, drawing on his own knowledge and insights gleaned from ancient texts, began to devote himself wholeheartedly to studying a way to break the technique.

From his cross-referenced notes, Jared identified two malignant cores of the technique: the principles of “devour” and “frenzy.” If he could introduce a gentler force to calm the frenzy, then reverse the current, there was a chance the damaged flesh could begin to heal—slowly, piece by piece.

He drafted an extensive list of herbs and treasures—many so rare they existed now only in footnotes—each chosen for its soothing, balancing virtue. Without a word of complaint, Alice unleashed every contact she possessed, scouring markets and hidden vaults. Kishor never left her side; in that shared purpose, the walls between them began to crumble.

Several days later, the last petal and shard were delivered. The impossible inventory was complete.

Inside a sealed chamber beneath Whispers Tower, Jared traced gleaming sigils across the stone, building an intricate formation that spiraled outward like a constellation.

Jared's expression hardened. Facing Alice at the array's center, he spoke with solemn clarity. “Once we begin, the celestial energy will race backward through your meridians, scouring the Demonic Cultivation's power. We cannot stop midway—failure would be catastrophic. And when it works, the strength you gained these years will fall away, perhaps below where you started. Are you still willing?”

She glanced at Kishor, whose eyes brimmed with fear and faith alike. A determined smile unfurled across her round face. “I am sure. Power can be earned again; reclaiming myself—and being worthy of him—is all that matters.”

Kishor stepped forward and clasped her hands. “Alice, whatever form you bear, I will never leave you again.”

Jared hovered beside her, every breath measured, his mind narrowed to a single blade of focus.

Minute by minute, he tweaked the volume and direction of the incoming celestial energy, coaxing one thread, damping the next, guiding hostile and gentle forces toward an uneasy harmony. The air inside the sealed chamber thickened with tension. An hour passed. Then a second. Then a third, the silence broken only by Alice's ragged breathing and the slow beat of Jared's heart against his ribs.

At last, dawn slipped through a hairline crack high in the stone ceiling, laying a single golden blade across the array. In that fragile shaft of light, the miracle unfolded.

The storming aura enveloping Alice calmed, replaced by a pure, silken pulse of spiritual power. Before their eyes, her once-bloated frame began to shrink. Folds of flesh melted away, skin drew taut and luminous, and features that time and sorrow had buried emerged—soft, clear, heartbreakingly familiar.