The Man's Decree

Jared’s expression was a complex tapestry of concern and resolve as he cast a worried glance at Catina, who was moments away from being imprisoned within a crystalline coffin of ice. He then shifted his gaze to the grievously wounded Cloud and Feenix. Clenching his teeth with fierce determination, he hoisted them up, setting his sights on a desperate charge through the safeguarded territory of the Five Great Sects.

The sects’ sanctuary was shielded by an intricate arcane array, one that Jared could only circumvent by exiting through the designated entrance.

Time was a luxury he didn’t possess, the notion of dismantling the formation was an impossibility in such dire straits.

“Stop them!” came the stern command from Edward, prompting a flood of Celestial Sun Sect disciples to descend upon Jared like a swarm of vengeful spirits.

It was during this siege that an unexpected salvation manifested-a cascade of light poured from the heavens, forming a barrier that ensnared the cultivators.

“Mr. Chance, make haste and depart,” echoed a voice from above. The savior was Tyler, who had been drawn to the scene by the uproar. Recognizing the imminent threat to Jared, he conjured a temporary arcane array to impede the attackers.

Given the fleeting nature of Tyler’s hastily constructed defense, Jared knew he must penetrate the Five Great Sects’ territory posthaste.

sealed; no further

grim realization set in-there was no alternative

path to freedom was abruptly obstructed by a cluster

sign, no doubt drawn by

sense of

Feenix incapacitated in his arms, the odds of breaching Celestial Moon Sect’s defenses were

mind was besieged by relentless visions of Arthur-a mentor who had always been his

again come to his aid was clawing at his

mountain retreat, his pen dancing across the parchment. A sudden premonition drew his gaze toward the window, as if the winds themselves

a thoughtful stride, Arthur approached the window, his eyes

ends Jared’s defiance will be graced with a

and prestigious families. Jared finds himself ensnared within the grip of the southern

was as elegant as her demeanor, and she queried Arthur with a question that hung heavy

his current cultivation level?” inquired Arthur, his voice carrying a weight

to the second level of Tribulator,”

tone. “That’s painfully slow, excruciatingly so. Despite outpacing his peers, he’s still not