Ezio stood on the sidelines, his face tense with worry as he watched the scene unfold. Around them, other cultivators lingered at a safe distance, none daring to step in.
Beneath the ancient tree, Claude, dressed in pristine white, observed the confrontation with a look of amusement. His aura exuded arrogance, embodying the pride of the Draconians.
But when the dozen cultivators charged at Jared, Claude’s expression faltered.
Jared moved like a phantom, weaving effortlessly among them. Before anyone could react, the cultivators were sent hurtling back, landing in crumpled heaps beneath the ancient tree.
The crowd watched in stunned silence. Jared, a Ninth Level Tribulator, had utterly outclassed the group of Ultimate Realm cultivators.
This is absurd!
“Y-You…” The man picked himself up, staring at Jared in astonishment.
He realized Jared hadn’t even used his full strength. If he had, they wouldn’t have just been thrown back-they would’ve been dead.
Even though they were only at Level One and Two, their combined strength should have matched someone at Ultimate Realm Level Four. Yet they had been powerless against Jared’s effortless strikes.
“You were the one who wanted me dead, weren’t you?” Jared said with a calm smile, his tone laced with mockery.
The man didn’t answer. Instead, he glanced nervously toward Claude, who was now watching Jared with narrowed eyes and a newfound seriousness.
“Continue,” Claude said softly, his voice carrying an air of command.
The man hesitated for a moment, then his face hardened. A cruel glint flashed in his eyes as he gestured for his men to attack again. “Everyone, let’s hit him together. I refuse to believe he can take all of us!”
The dozen cultivators charged once more, their combined power bearing down on Jared like a wave.
“Some people just don’t learn,” Jared muttered, shaking his head. Then, with a sudden burst of movement, he swung his fists with devastating force.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
One by one, the cultivators were hurled through the air, crashing to the ground. This time, Jared showed no restraint. The group lay scattered on the ground, groaning in pain, unable to get back up. The leader coughed up blood, his face pale with terror.
Jared had to suppress his human aura and relied solely on the strength of the beast race when he fought. Even so, his power was overwhelming. If he had unleashed his full potential, not a single person would have survived. Over a dozen cultivators lay sprawled on the ground, gravely injured and unable to stand.
The crowd of thousands stared in stunned silence, the tension so thick it was almost tangible. Ezio rubbed his eyes as if he couldn’t trust what he was seeing. His expression was a mixture of disbelief and awe.
Beneath that, though, was something deeper-hope. He clenched his fists tightly, excitement flashing in his eyes. For the first time, he felt there was a real chance to escape this cursed place.
Jared wasn’t just a powerful cultivator. There was something extraordinary about him, a hidden identity that was as terrifying as it was impressive.
The shock on the faces of the crowd was unmistakable. While many had attempted to challenge the space beneath the ancient tree, none had ever succeeded. Time after time, they had been defeated and humiliated, until eventually, no one dared to venture close.
Now, Jared, a Tribulator, had not only dared but triumphed-and he had done so effortlessly.
Among the murmurs, disbelief spread like wildfire. How could a Ninth Level Tribulator defeat over a dozen Ultimate Realm cultivators, even if they were only at Level One and Two? Their combined strength should have posed a significant threat, yet they had been utterly powerless.
“This guy’s no ordinary fellow,” someone muttered.
Meanwhile, outside the prison, Ricky, the captain of the guards, stood just beyond the light curtain that separated the inmates from the outside world.
His sharp eyes tracked Jared’s every move. The prisoners were given exercise time to blow off steam, and Ricky’s job was to make sure things didn’t spiral out of control. Fights were normal, and he rarely stepped in unless someone’s life was at risk.
