The King Of Warriors novel (Jared Chance) novel Chapter 5339

Jared shrugged out of his outer robe. A shallow slash scored the muscle of his left arm—flung there by shrapnel when Quentin had self-destructed. Though not deep, a ghost of demonic energy still pulsed along the edges.

Lyra's eyes shimmered, soft with hurt on his behalf. Kneeling, she cautiously dabbed a cloth in the hot spirit water and dabbed away the dried blood with feather-light strokes, as though one careless move might cause him pain.

The warmth of the spirit water and the crisp scent of the mystical herbs seeped into the wound; the lurking demonic energy began to fade like frost under the sunlight.

“Next time—please—be more careful.” Her words quavered, the salve jar trembling slightly between her fingers. “I know you're strong, but I still worry. I worry something might happen and I'll never see you again...”

He traced a calming line through her silvery hair. “Silly girl, I promise—I'll watch myself from now on.”

She looked up, lashes damp. “Mr. Chance, Master Morden told me that you and Mr. Flaxseed plan to march on Malevolent Path Hall's headquarters. Is that true?”

The question struck him squarely. He exhaled, then nodded once. “It is. Mr. Flaxseed's clan's divine souls are trapped in the headquarters. I won't let him face it alone. Besides, the leader of Celestial Palace's Sixth Hall has made me his favorite target. I must make a trip to Celestial Palace's Sixth Hall on level six.”

Lyra pressed her teeth to her lower lip. A long, trembling breath slipped past before she finally spoke, her voice steady but soft. “I know I can't hold you back. You have your own path to walk, your own battles to fight. I won't be the weight that drags you down.”

She drew in another breath, and a quiet spark flared behind her eyes. “I'll stay here in Swordmaster City and cultivate with everything I have. When you return—and I will be stronger by then—if danger finds us again, I'll fight at your side, not behind you.”

That fierce resolve shining in her gaze struck Jared harder than any blade. It reminded him how much the shy girl he once guarded had already grown—how fiercely her spirit now matched his own.

He understood then that Lyra no longer needed constant protection. She carried a pride and strength that were entirely hers.

“All right,” Jared said at last.

A smile softened the sharp angles of his face. “I'll wait for that day, when the two of us stand shoulder to shoulder on whatever battlefield awaits.”

She rose and slipped into his embrace, arms tightening around his waist. Her cheek pressed against his chest, and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat calmed the storm inside her.

Jared held her close, letting the faint fragrance of alpine blossoms in her hair fill his lungs and soften the iron in his soul.

“Mr. Chance,” she whispered into the cloth of his tunic, her voice muffled. “Promise you'll remember me.”

He lowered his chin, resting it atop her hair. “I could never forget you.”

Lanternlight quivered across the room, painting two entwined silhouettes onto the wooden wall—figures caught between the ache of parting and the comfort of shared warmth.

Jared's gaze swept over her, worry flickering behind his tenderness. “Does that spot still hurt?”