The King Of Warriors novel (Jared Chance) novel Chapter 5336

“Blood Charm: Sky Havoc!”

Flaxseed hurled the charm. It exploded into a towering crimson beam that howled downward, tearing a ragged seam through space itself.

Quentin's eyes widened. He spun around, frantically weaving black energy into a titanic shield covered in writhing runes of the void.

The shield, carved with sinister runes, groaned under its own weight, exuding a chill that had the aura of burial soil.

Clang!

The crimson beam struck the shield. Quentin staggered back, shattering white bones beneath his boots. “Earthly Immortal Realm Level Nine? How did you suddenly achieve such a high cultivation level?”

He had seen Flaxseed back when he was in Swordmaster City. At that time, Flaxseed had just stepped into Earthly Immortal Realm. At this moment, Flaxseed had suddenly advanced to Earthly Immortal Realm Level Nine.

Quentin could not know the truth—Flaxseed was a soul reincarnated. A single spark of spiritual sense returned, and power surged up to greet it.

“Thanks to you!” Flaxseed laughed. “My recovery is coming along beautifully.”

He pressed forward. Charms flew like summer rain—Freeze Charm froze the very air, another called Lightning Tribulation Charm, a third hurled boulders from nothingness, Boulder Charm. Quentin reeled beneath the relentless storm.

Jared joined the dance. The Dragonslayer Sword and charms moved as if born of the same rhythm, hemming Quentin in from opposite flanks until every escape line shrank to a finger's breadth.

Jared's blade flashed faster than thought, each thrust aimed for a fatal seam, flames searing Quentin's demonic energy. Flaxseed's charms shifted—now a hammer blow, now a chain—forcing Quentin to guard left, right, above, never breathing.

Quentin, an Earthly Immortal Realm Level Nine, felt the battlefield tilting, inch by inch, toward inevitable defeat beneath the twin assault.

Golden fire washed over his black energy like a tidal wave, and crimson charm lights followed in its wake. Under that two-fold assault, the black energy wrapped around Quentin peeled away in smoky strips. His robes shredded next, baring skin so withered it clung to bone. Black markings writhed across the pallid flesh, etching a face of horror no living man should wear.

Their barriers had spared them the worst of it, yet shallow cuts bled at elbows and brows, and both men were coated in soot and stray flecks of their own blood.

Their cultivation, thankfully, remained steady and whole.

Flaxseed spat a mouthful of dirt. “That lunatic actually blew himself apart. Talk about playing for keeps.”

He wiped his sleeve across split lips and sneered at the blackened crater.

Jared's gaze shifted to the palace—half its roof gone, pillars leaning like drunkards. “We can't linger. That blast from the self-destruct was loud enough to summon every cultivator nearby. We leave—now.”

Flaxseed nodded, frustration flickering in his eyes. “All this trouble, and I still didn't find my family's divine souls.”