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 lunged toward Jared with

Chance!” In response, Dillon surged forward,

in a fierce struggle, the remaining dozen

himself, each adorned in gleaming golden armor and brandishing a Dragonslayer Sword. Their

sudden appearance of multiple identical Jareds left the dozen or so Demonic

Pathfinder Sect and

employing, how had he multiplied

Just continue your attacks!” One-Eyed roared, rallying his underlings when he noticed

Jared had used some sort of illusion to

their assault once more, their mystical weapons slicing through the air in

into the air, Dragonslayer Sword gleaming in

the attention of the Demonic Cultivators converged on him. They recognized him as the genuine threat amidst the illusions, focusing their assault on the real Jared with a determined