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.

he bellowed, his voice reverberating with fury as he

won’t let you harm Mr. Chance!” In response, Dillon surged forward, his determination

fierce struggle, the remaining dozen

materialized until there were seven identical versions of himself, each adorned in gleaming golden armor and brandishing a Dragonslayer

of multiple identical Jareds left the dozen or so Demonic Cultivators utterly

mirrored by the disciples of Pathfinder Sect and the other cultivators

manner of technique was Jared employing, how had he

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

Jared had used some sort of illusion to

Demonic Cultivators launched their assault once more, their mystical weapons slicing through the air in a

air, Dragonslayer Sword gleaming

They recognized him as the genuine threat amidst the illusions, focusing their assault on