A Man Like None Other

Before anyone could even comprehend what had transpired, Jared stood among the chaos, Dragonslayer Sword in hand, its blade still dripping with fresh blood.

Gasp!

Every disciple of Pathfinder Sect drew in a sharp breath, their initial frustration now replaced by utter astonishment.

Just moments ago, they were irate because Jared looked down on them, but now, they stood in awe. Witnessing a Third Level Tribulator dispatch a Fourth Level Tribulator with such precision and speed left them speechless.

Even for a Fifth Level Tribulator, such a feat would be impressive, but Jared had accomplished it effortlessly.

Dillon, too, was profoundly astonished. He had underestimated Jared’s strength; he couldn’t fathom achieving such a feat himself.

One-Eyed stared at his fallen comrade, flabbergasted.

his voice reverberating with fury as he lunged toward Jared with a scimitar

response, Dillon surged forward,

Dillon clashed with One-Eyed in a fierce struggle,

figure after another materialized until there were seven identical versions of himself, each adorned in gleaming golden armor and brandishing a Dragonslayer Sword. Their eyes blazed with an unmistakable murderous intent as

sudden appearance of multiple identical Jareds left the dozen or so

by the disciples of Pathfinder Sect and

were puzzled, wondering what manner of technique was Jared employing, how had he multiplied himself so suddenly,

all fake! Just continue your attacks!” One-Eyed roared, rallying his underlings

some sort of illusion to

Demonic Cultivators launched their assault once more, their mystical weapons slicing

air, Dragonslayer Sword

the attention of the Demonic Cultivators converged on him. They recognized him as the genuine threat