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

you harm Mr. Chance!” In response, Dillon surged forward,

struggle, the

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.

appearance of multiple identical Jareds left the dozen

shock was mirrored by the disciples of Pathfinder Sect and the

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

It’s merely an illusion spell! It’s all fake! Just continue your

Jared had used some sort of illusion to

Demonic Cultivators launched their assault once more, their mystical weapons slicing through the air in a

air, Dragonslayer

him. They recognized him as the genuine threat amidst the illusions,

exactly what Jared wanted. The Demonic Cultivators leaped into the air, charging

him, they were caught off guard by an unexpected chill creeping

their move, they turned to find, to their astonishment, the Jared clones that they had

faces pale as they witnessed six or seven of their comrades swiftly cut down,