The Man's Decree

Chapter 2188

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Chapter 2188 He Is Incredible

“Who do you think you are, trying to take me on when you're just a Second Level Martial Arts God? You

should have checked yourself out in the mirror before stepping up!” Samson scoffed at Skyler's attempt

to resist his aura.

“She's no match for you. But what about me?” Jared responded and unleashed his aura.

“Ha, you little punk. How dare a mere Martial Arts Saint like you be so full of yourself in front of me?”

Samson cackled.

However, he soon realized that Jared's aura successfully resisted his own. Stunned, he turned to him

and shouted before increasing the intensity of his aura, which caused many martial artists to collapse

onto the ground from the overpowering pressure.

“You're a Fourth Level Martial Arts God, huh? Not bad.” Jared smiled.

“You should know the consequences of crossing me now that you're aware of my true power,” Samson

said disdainfully.

“A Fourth Level Martial Arts God is indeed impressive, but it's still nothing in my eyes,” Jared sneered

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in response.

“You talk big for a puny Martial Arts Saint. How dare you look down on me? I'll crush you into

mincemeat today and show you the true power of a Fourth Level Martial Arts God!” Samson bellowed

as he unleashed all his aura. The terrifying power it contained caused the surroundings to shift and

distort.

The color drained from the martial artists' faces as they watched the battle unfold. It was clear that

Samson had the upper hand against both Jared and Skyler.

How could Jared, an Eighth Level Martial Arts Saint, possibly hope to defeat a Fourth Level Martial Arts

God?

At that moment, some of the martial artists began to regret their decision to follow Jared up the

mountain and started to retreat.

“Is this all you've got as a Fourth Level Martial Arts God?” Jared sneered. Suddenly, rays of golden light

emanated from his body, and waves of blood-curdling pressure struck Samson and the disciples of

Stormwind Sect.

Samson and the disciples were all shocked, for they had never thought that the young man before

them—who was merely a Martial Arts Saint—could unleash an aura that was even scarier than that of

a Fourth Level Martial Arts God.

“Do you realize how weak you are now?” Jared leaped into the air and charged toward Samson.

The martial artists felt the pressure being lifted off their bodies, and they all stared at Jared in fear and

disbelief.

Not only had the aura of a Martial Arts Saint withstood that of a Martial Arts God, but it was also

powerful enough to launch an offensive attack.

“Mr. Chance is truly incredible. How can the power of an Eighth Level Martial Arts Saint be this strong?”

Verner exclaimed incredulously.

Jose, Marcelo, and Royler were also stunned and impressed by Jared's display of power.

When Samson saw that Jared was daring enough to attack him, he extended his fingers and hollered,

“Hammerhand!”

A beat later, two disciples of Stormwind Sect hurled two hammers forward, and they grew in size midair

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before landing perfectly in Samson's hands.

The hammers spun in his grip, and a mere light tap between the two hammers was enough to emit

waves of deafening noise that caused the crowd to cover their ears and pale with fear.

Jared threw a punch at Samson, his fist glowing with a golden light.

“Humph. How dare you, a mere Martial Arts Saint, come at me with your bare fists? You must have a

death wish!” Samson spat.

Accompanied by a harrumph, he launched a counter-attack with his two hammers. The force he

exerted into the swing of his hammers was profound, as though he was determined to crush Jared into

mincemeat.

Clang!

A piercing sound of metal clashing against metal filled the air as Jared's punch collided with the metal

hammers. Sparks flew in all directions.

Samson's complexion paled. Never did he expect Jared's fist to be so tough that it could withstand the

full force of his hammers.

His hands turned numb from the powerful clash, and it felt as if all strength had been drained from his

arms.

In contrast, Jared appeared to be unfazed by the exchange, standing before him with a look of disdain

on his face.

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