Under Jared’s gaze, a chill ran through Elder Cillian’s entire body.

Something unfamiliar clawed its way up from deep within him.

He had cultivated for a thousand years, reaching True Immortal Realm Level One. In his own eyes, that placed him among the strong—even within the Fourteenth Firmament.

And yet, the young man standing before him had already lost more than half his bloodline. His strength had plummeted.

Even so, a single strike had slaughtered over a dozen disciples. The next had left him gravely wounded.

What kind of monster was this?

“You… who the hell are you?!”