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.

this with your life!” he bellowed, his voice reverberating with fury as he lunged toward Jared with a scimitar encased in a

won’t let you harm Mr. Chance!” In response, Dillon surged forward, his

fierce struggle, the remaining dozen Demonic

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

multiple identical Jareds left the dozen or

was mirrored by the disciples of Pathfinder Sect and the other cultivators aboard the airship,

employing, how had he

spell! It’s all fake! Just continue

had used some

their assault once more, their mystical weapons slicing through the air

the air, Dragonslayer Sword gleaming

They recognized him as the genuine threat amidst the illusions, focusing their assault on the real Jared

leaped into the air, charging straight toward Jared, completely ignoring the duplicate bodies of Jared

were caught off guard by an

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

six or seven of