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.

your life!” he bellowed, his voice reverberating with fury as he lunged toward

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

with One-Eyed in a fierce struggle,

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

multiple identical Jareds left the dozen or so Demonic

Sect and

manner of technique was Jared employing, how had

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

was confident Jared had used some sort

assault once more, their mystical weapons slicing

the air, Dragonslayer

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

wanted. The Demonic Cultivators leaped into the air, charging straight toward Jared, completely ignoring

closed in on him, they were caught

to find, to their astonishment, the Jared clones that they had overlooked

witnessed six or seven of their comrades swiftly cut down, halving their force