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.

with fury

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

fierce struggle, the remaining dozen

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 golden armor

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

and the other

manner of technique was Jared employing, how had he multiplied himself so suddenly, and which figure was

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

used some sort of illusion to

weapons slicing through

into the air, Dragonslayer Sword gleaming

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