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.

with fury as he lunged toward Jared with a scimitar encased in

surged forward, his determination fueled by Jared’s astounding

a fierce struggle, the

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 faced down the

left the dozen or so Demonic Cultivators utterly

disciples of Pathfinder Sect and the other cultivators aboard the

Jared employing, how had he multiplied himself

Just continue your attacks!” One-Eyed roared, rallying his

had used some

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

soared into the air, Dragonslayer Sword gleaming in

genuine

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

they were caught off guard by an

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

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