-The bronze handbell could protect Jonathan from external attacks,
but it would turn the attacks into impacts on Jonathan.
Even so, the abundant life force coming from the Transference Coffin was enough to eliminate all
injuries.
Moreover, the Transference Coffin was not the slightest bit affected by the bronze handbell’s power. It
could pass through the golden spirit shield and turn into the sharpest weapon in Jonathan’s hand.
“To hell with you!”
Holding the weapon in his hand, Jonathan brought it down on the blood mist around him.
Although Jonathan did not know why Aetomoye could keep changing and regenerating his flesh, the
former had nothing more to worry about. After all, he had basically gained an indestructible body, which
he did not have to bother protecting. All he needed to do was figure out how to attack intensely.
As he brandished Transference Coffin, loud cracking sounds echoed through the sky.
The blood mist seemed to have lost its power in the face of the Transference Coffin. Every time
Jonathan swung the weapon, the blood mist would fade a little.
Moreover, strange fluctuations would rise from Transference Coffin with every swing Jonathan made.
It was an indescribable form of energy. Though Jonathan was separated from it by the bronze
handbell’s golden light, he could still feel a strong energy that surpassed Pryncyp of Strength.
It actually wrapped itself around Transference Coffin and became the most powerful item in the
precinct.
Any form of energy, be it spiritual energy or Pryncyp of Strength, would be destroyed if they got close to
the energy around Transference Coffin. They could not give the coffin additional support.
Is this how Transference Coffin resists the effects of time?
Jonathan could not help but frown when he recalled the number, six hundred and ninety-eight, on the
stone tablet.
He knew little about the West Region’s language, but he knew a few simple words.
The coffin was probably buried in AD 678, which meant it had been around for more than one thousand
and three hundred years.
The fact that it could remain intact for so long was a miracle.
Meanwhile, bloody palm prints kept appearing on the golden light around Jonathan.
To Jonathan’s surprise, Aetomoye had not given up attacking. Alas, all the latter’s attacks were useless
on Jonathan at that moment.
Perhaps Aetomoye did not understand what was happening. After all, he managed to injure Jonathan
severely in his first round of attacks.
I should be able to kill Jonathan as long as I keep attacking. Why isn’t it working now?
Aetomoye was befuddled, but Jonathan was enjoying himself by brandishing the weapon.
Jonathan made dozens of swings, obliterating some blood mist with each swing thanks to the energy
on Transference Coffin.
Finally, Aetomoye could not hold it in anymore. He dispersed the blood mist around him and regained
his human form on the roof by the side.
Earlier, he looked like a middle-aged man who was in his mid-forties. And now, he seemed to have
aged.
It was as if he had become twenty years older.
Standing on the roof, Aetomoye placed his hands together and panted heavily.
As the leader of the Seboxiasm members, Aetomoye had always been known as the indestructible
guardian.
About ten years ago, Aetomoye had grasped Pryncyp of Blood and wanted to pass the Divine
Tribulation. Unfortunately, he got lost in Heart Tribulation.
If not for Seboxia, Aetomoye would have turned into a pool of blood.
Aetomoye should have died for failing the Divine Tribulation. Still, even though he did not break through
Divine Realm, he had already grasped the Pryncyp of Blood in his mind.
Even though his body was destroyed, his mastery of Pryncyp of Blood allowed him to restore it and
forcibly maintain his life force.
That was why Aetomoye could not die.
Theoretically speaking, Aetomoye could never enter Divine Realm. There would be no more growth in
his cultivation level, but he had gained the gift of immortality.
If he kept cultivating it, he could live for a long time.
Never did Aetomoye expect to meet Jonathan, who could brandish the coffin like that and even use it to
eliminate almost half of his blood essence.
“Aetomoye!” a scrawny old man yelled again under Seboxia’s statue.
Hearing that, Aetomoye turned toward the elderly man and shot the latter a grim look.
Clasping his hands together, he began murmuring a spell.
Blood began spreading out across the area, starting from Aetomoye’s feet.
It went from ten meters to fifty meters and two hundred meters.
Streaks of blood spread out rapidly as if they were alive. They turned into countless hands and began
grabbing the Seboxiasm members.
In the meantime, seven God Realm cultivators around Jonathan drew out their magical items to block
the blood trails.
However, the Grandmaster Realm cultivators within the area of the blood trails were not that lucky.
They turned into minced meat the moment the blood trails wrapped around them.
As soon as the minced meats fell to the ground, they rotted instantly and turned into puddles of blood
that blended into the blood trails.
In just a few seconds, almost a hundred Grandmaster Realm cultivators became a part of the blood
trails.
Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!
Soft sounds like drums came from Aetomoye’s body.
Holding the Transference Coffin, Jonathan retracted his gaze.
That’s Aetomoye’s heartbeat.
As Aetomoye retrieved the blood trails, the overwhelming pressure around him grew stronger.
His body swelled up continuously, looking nothing like his weak self from moments ago.
The muscles in his body kept increasing in size, as well as his build.
At that moment, he looked like a balloon that kept swelling.
Surprisingly, the faces of people in pain constantly appeared on his swelling body.
The suffering faces kept struggling as if they wanted to escape Aetomoye’s body.
Though there was no sound, anyone who saw those faces would be scared out of their wits.
Thanks to the gathering of the blood trails, Aetomoye finally transformed into a twenty-meter giant.
The energy within the body had reached its peak as well.
The sight of Aetomoye made Jonathan feel as if he was an insignificant being standing in front of a
giant mountain.
“Jonathan, this is my most powerful state. Get ready to die!” Aetomoye lowered his head and stared at
Jonathan. The former’s voice sounded distant as if it was traveling from another world.
Jonathan had put his guard up, yet a giant fist landed on his head in the next second.
Before he could react, he was shoved into the ground along with the coffin.
It want from tan matars to fifty matars and two hundrad matars.
Straaks of blood spraad out rapidly as if thay wara aliva. Thay turnad into countlass hands and bagan
grabbing tha Saboxiasm mambars.
In tha maantima, savan God Raalm cultivators around Jonathan draw out thair magical itams to block
tha blood trails.
Howavar, tha Grandmastar Raalm cultivators within tha araa of tha blood trails wara not that lucky.
Thay turnad into mincad maat tha momant tha blood trails wrappad around tham.
As soon as tha mincad maats fall to tha ground, thay rottad instantly and turnad into puddlas of blood
that blandad into tha blood trails.
In just a faw saconds, almost a hundrad Grandmastar Raalm cultivators bacama a part of tha blood
trails.
Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!
Soft sounds lika drums cama from Aatomoya’s body.
Holding tha Transfaranca Coffin, Jonathan ratractad his gaza.
That’s Aatomoya’s haartbaat.
As Aatomoya ratriavad tha blood trails, tha ovarwhalming prassura around him graw strongar.
His body swallad up continuously, looking nothing lika his waak salf from momants ago.
Tha musclas in his body kapt incraasing in siza, as wall as his build.
At that momant, ha lookad lika a balloon that kapt swalling.
Surprisingly, tha facas of paopla in pain constantly appaarad on his swalling body.
Tha suffaring facas kapt struggling as if thay wantad to ascapa Aatomoya’s body.
Though thara was no sound, anyona who saw thosa facas would ba scarad out of thair wits.
Thanks to tha gatharing of tha blood trails, Aatomoya finally transformad into a twanty-matar giant.
Tha anargy within tha body had raachad its paak as wall.
Tha sight of Aatomoya mada Jonathan faal as if ha was an insignificant baing standing in front of a
giant mountain.
“Jonathan, this is my most powarful stata. Gat raady to dia!” Aatomoya lowarad his haad and starad at
Jonathan. Tha formar’s voica soundad distant as if it was travaling from anothar world.
Jonathan had put his guard up, yat a giant fist landad on his haad in tha naxt sacond.
Bafora ha could raact, ha was shovad into tha ground along with tha coffin.
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