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.

your life!” he bellowed, his voice reverberating with fury as he lunged toward Jared with a scimitar encased

Chance!” In response, Dillon surged forward, his determination fueled by Jared’s astounding display

in a fierce struggle, the remaining dozen Demonic Cultivators surged toward

versions of himself, each adorned in gleaming golden armor and brandishing a Dragonslayer Sword. Their eyes blazed with an unmistakable murderous intent as they

appearance of multiple identical Jareds left

and the other cultivators aboard

how had he multiplied himself

spell! It’s all fake! Just continue your attacks!” One-Eyed roared, rallying

some sort of illusion to confuse

assault once more, their mystical weapons slicing through the

air, Dragonslayer Sword

Demonic Cultivators converged on him. They recognized him as the genuine threat amidst the illusions, focusing their assault on