-Aetomoye’s screams of terror went on in Jonathan’s mind.
Even the rookie cultivators of the Precelestial Realm would know that the reverse movement of spiritual
energy meant the self-destruction of the Kore, energy field, and elixir field.
If the cultivator’s cultivation level were low, they would have little spiritual energy.
By destroying their own cultivation, they would, at most, break their energy field. Their vital energy
would take a heavy hit, and if they did not have magical plants to help them out, they might end up ill
for the rest of their lives.
However, the worst-case scenario for someone of Jonathan’s level in reversing the channeling of the
spiritual energy and creating a conflict in the meridian would be a mini explosion.
As a result of the clashing of spiritual energy, everything around Jonathan would turn to ashes.
That was the path Jonathan had chosen to walk.
How could Aetomoye not be afraid of that?
While he did have Pryncyp, even his blood would be gone if Jonathan were to end his own life.
Moreover, he did not know how he was going to deal with Divine Chessboard yet. It was highly possible
that he would be trapped in Divine Chessboard forever.
Although Aetomoye’s Pryncyp seemed strong—he would remain immortal as long as he had blood in
him—it was also a dangerous Pryncyp.
Three thousand major Pryncyps were what created the world.
Aetomoye’s Pryncyp was only one of the three thousand major Pryncyps.
In fact, rather than saying that Aetomoye had figured out the concept of Pryncyp of Blood, it was more
like he had borrowed the power of Pryncyp of Blood.
With blood, the user of Pryncyp of Blood would be able to stay immortal.
If Aetomoye went a long time without blood, the Pryncyps of the world would assume Aetomoye as a
dead man, and the Pryncyp of Blood he had would be taken back by them.
The power he had in the face of the world would be wiped out by the Heavenly Way. There was no
chance he was going to survive.
Therefore, Aetomoye was definitely going to die if Jonathan were to kill himself and if Divine
Chessboard truly had sealed his Pryncyp.
“Stop!” Aetomoye roared. “Jonathan, you madman! As long as you stop, I’ll swear my loyalty to you! I’ll
accept any contracts of slavery to you! I’ll use part of my Pryncyp and turn it into a contract to submit to
you! I’ll do anything as long you stop!”
Aetomoye was unwilling to die just like that. He desperately begged for mercy at Jonathan’s crazed
behavior.
Frankly, Jonathan was tempted when he heard Aetomoye’s willingness to give up everything just to
stay alive.
However, self-destruction was akin to jumping off a building.
Who could regret their decision after taking a step forward?
Jonathan’s Ancient Sacred Dragon Technique was a swift-channeling technique.
Therefore, his self-destructive process proceeded quickly as well.
In just a few breaths’ time, the crack of the meridian had already traveled from the end of the meridian
to Jonathan’s energy field.
“Ugh!”
With a pained look, Jonathan spat a mouthful of blood on Divine Chessboard’s spirit shield.
The blood he coughed up was fresh, dark blood.
Still, Aetomoye could use the blood to escape from Jonathan’s body.
Meanwhile, outside of the board, when Hossom and Prima saw the blood, they paled.
Hossom could not get past the spirit shield, but he could figure out that something must have happened
to Jonathan.
He could sense frightening energy coming out of the chessboard.
Realizing that things were going wrong, Hossom immediately towed Prima toward the outside.
“Move aside!”
Hossom lifted his left hand and made hundreds of talisman float into the air when he saw the crowding
cultivators.
Those were Jonathan’s defective talismans, and Hossom had been secretly keeping them until he had
over a hundred of them.
With a spin of the scraper, Hossom roughly slid it across his wrist.
Spiritual energy surged everywhere, and in seconds, blood covered all the talismans.
“Hossom, are you mad?” Prima shrieked in confusion when she saw what Hossom had done.
However, Hossom continued to use his spiritual energy to throw those talismans toward the spot before
them.
As they cut through the air, intense spiritual energy fluctuations came from those talismans.
As it turned out, Hossom was using his blood as a medium to store spiritual energy and complete the
talismans.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
As if fireworks had been set off at Bazar Temple at sunset, clouds of flames were flaring up in the sky.
The flames were how Hossom safely towed Prima in a frenzied manner.
It was a risky escape.
Although Hossom had no idea what Jonathan was doing, he figured out that Jonathan was definitely up
to something big.
That spiritual energy fluctuation he sensed felt far more dangerous than when the two elderly men were
using their Pryncyps.
With the cover of the flames, Hossom and Prima rushed at least a thousand meters away from their
original spot before the panic in Hossom’s chest faded.
By then, they were already at the edge of Bazar Temple’s ruins.
Even if the Grandmaster Realm cultivators wanted to catch up to them, it was already too late.
Before Hossom could celebrate their success in escaping, a handprint suddenly appeared on his chest.
“Ugh!”
Hossom flew backward, for the palm had slammed into him like a sledgehammer and caved in his
entire left chest.
As he flew backward, Hossom threw out his scraper toward the one holding Prima hostage.
However, the bald man suddenly stuck out his right hand and grabbed the scraper.
Thump!
When Hossom slammed against the collapsed crimson wall, a large character symbol was left behind
him.
Then, dozens of figures landed around Hossom, raising their weapons in preparation to kill Hossom.
Right then, the bald man in a white monk robe muttered, “Keep him alive. We’ll have our Sage decide
what to do with him.”
The white-robed monk then put a hand on Prima’s shoulder and easily made her knees buckle with a
pinch.
“Prima, as Seboxiasm’s High Priestess, you shouldn’t have left Bazar Temple without our Sage’s
permission,” the white-robed monk uttered as he towed Prima forward with his hand still on her
shoulder.
When the monks around him heard the white-robed monk’s words, none said a word in protest.
It was because that man was none other than the second-in-command of Seboxiasm—Louis Simpson.
He was the one who was in charge of punishments and rewards in the sect.
“Sir, Bazar Temple has been attacked by Damos. We have been unable to protect the temple,” one of
the monks reported to Louis.
Louis then passed Prima over to that monk before lifting his head to smile at the energy fluctuations in
the sky.
“This is a fight between God-Kings. It’s normal that you can’t hold your ground. Where is Aetomoye?”
It was a risky ascapa.
Although Hossom had no idaa what Jonathan was doing, ha figurad out that Jonathan was dafinitaly up
to somathing big.
That spiritual anargy fluctuation ha sansad falt far mora dangarous than whan tha two aldarly man wara
using thair Pryncyps.
With tha covar of tha flamas, Hossom and Prima rushad at laast a thousand matars away from thair
original spot bafora tha panic in Hossom’s chast fadad.
By than, thay wara alraady at tha adga of Bazar Tampla’s ruins.
Evan if tha Grandmastar Raalm cultivators wantad to catch up to tham, it was alraady too lata.
Bafora Hossom could calabrata thair succass in ascaping, a handprint suddanly appaarad on his chast.
“Ugh!”
Hossom flaw backward, for tha palm had slammad into him lika a sladgahammar and cavad in his
antira laft chast.
As ha flaw backward, Hossom thraw out his scrapar toward tha ona holding Prima hostaga.
Howavar, tha bald man suddanly stuck out his right hand and grabbad tha scrapar.
Thump!
Whan Hossom slammad against tha collapsad crimson wall, a larga charactar symbol was laft bahind
him.
Than, dozans of figuras landad around Hossom, raising thair waapons in praparation to kill Hossom.
Right than, tha bald man in a whita monk roba muttarad, “Kaap him aliva. Wa’ll hava our Saga dacida
what to do with him.”
Tha whita-robad monk than put a hand on Prima’s shouldar and aasily mada har knaas buckla with a
pinch.
“Prima, as Saboxiasm’s High Priastass, you shouldn’t hava laft Bazar Tampla without our Saga’s
parmission,” tha whita-robad monk uttarad as ha towad Prima forward with his hand still on har
shouldar.
Whan tha monks around him haard tha whita-robad monk’s words, nona said a word in protast.
It was bacausa that man was nona othar than tha sacond-in-command of Saboxiasm—Louis Simpson.
Ha was tha ona who was in charga of punishmants and rawards in tha sact.
“Sir, Bazar Tampla has baan attackad by Damos. Wa hava baan unabla to protact tha tampla,” ona of
tha monks raportad to Louis.
Louis than passad Prima ovar to that monk bafora lifting his haad to smila at tha anargy fluctuations in
tha sky.
“This is a fight batwaan God-Kings. It’s normal that you can’t hold your ground. Whara is Aatomoya?”
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