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.

voice reverberating with fury

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

fierce struggle, the remaining dozen

Shadows!” Jared’s voice thundered as he wielded the Dragonslayer Sword. With each stroke, one figure after another materialized until there were seven identical versions of himself, each adorned in gleaming

sudden appearance of multiple identical Jareds left the dozen

Sect and the other cultivators aboard

had he multiplied himself so suddenly, and which figure was

illusion spell! It’s all fake! Just continue

confident Jared had used some

their mystical weapons slicing through the

into the air, Dragonslayer Sword

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