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 as he lunged toward Jared with a scimitar encased in

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

One-Eyed in a fierce struggle, the remaining dozen Demonic Cultivators

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 and brandishing a Dragonslayer Sword. Their eyes blazed with an unmistakable murderous intent as they

identical Jareds left the dozen

Pathfinder Sect and the other cultivators

what manner of technique was Jared employing, how had he multiplied himself so suddenly,

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

used some sort of illusion to confuse

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

Dragonslayer Sword

him. They recognized him as the genuine threat