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.

bellowed, his voice reverberating with fury as he lunged toward Jared with a scimitar encased in a sinister black

surged forward, his determination fueled by Jared’s astounding display

a fierce struggle, the remaining dozen Demonic Cultivators

Dragonslayer Sword. With each stroke, one figure after another materialized until there were seven identical versions of himself, each adorned in

of multiple identical Jareds left the

disciples of Pathfinder Sect and the other cultivators aboard the airship, who watched in

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

illusion spell! It’s all fake! Just continue your attacks!” One-Eyed roared, rallying his underlings when he

had used some sort of

renewed determination, the Demonic Cultivators launched their assault once more, their mystical weapons slicing

the air, Dragonslayer

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