-Flying dozens of meters later, he crashed onto the ground.
Yet, before Jonathan could clamber to his feet, a pair of boots appeared before him.
The long sword swung at Jonathan’s neck.
As the bell chimed, the golden light flickered.
The bronze handbell’s golden shield around Jonathan was pounded into the ground.
Blood was gushing out from Jonathan’s mouth.
The only thing Jonathan could do was to continue to unleash his spiritual energy with difficulty.
The female cultivator icily looked at Jonathan before raising her foot to step on Jonathan’s golden
shield.
“How dare you destroy nine of our missile vehicles? Don’t you know that I have to bear the
responsibility for their destruction?”
Thump!
Her sword struck Jonathan’s shield once more, causing it to flicker.
“And you call yourself Asura. You’re more like a loser.”
Thump!
When the sword landed again, Jonathan’s spiritual energy transmission was cut off.
The bronze handbell above his head kept shaking, and Jonathan tried to grab it, but just as he lifted his
arm, the female cultivator raised her sword again.
“Break!”
With the furious bellow, the female cultivator shattered the golden shield.
Jonathan’s lips parted, but no sound came out of his mouth.
His aura shuddered. It was as if he was a flame of a candle in the storm, flickering and threatening to
go out.
After stepping on Jonathan’s face, the female cultivator slowly brought her sword closer to Jonathan’s
chest.
“If I kill you, I’m sure I’ll be forgiven for the destruction of those nine missile vehicles,” the female
cultivator said with a sneer before bringing down her sword.
However, the expected sensation of the blade meeting flesh never came.
When she glanced downward at her feet, she was taken aback. Jonathan was no longer anywhere to
be found!
Instead, she was now stepping on a huge coffin.
It seemed like the coffin was ancient, for parts of the coffin were already cracking. Despite that, a faint
hint of life force was strangely coming from the coffin.
“Jonathan Goldstein!”
Although the female cultivator did not know where the coffin came from, she knew it had something to
do with Jonathan.
Hesitating no longer, the female cultivator leaped and swung her sword at the coffin.
She exerted all her power in that attack, but right as the blade swung downward, she retreated as if she
had seen a ghost.
At the same time, the Grandmaster Realm cultivators quickly gathered by her side.
“Ma’am, what is that?”
While not masters in the technique, Grandmaster Realm cultivators possessed the ability to scan their
surroundings with their spiritual sense, allowing them to perceive the shifts and movements of battle.
No one dared to approach the coffin that had appeared out of nowhere.
After all, they had all witnessed the way Jonathan fought earlier, including the moves he used—the
Earthly Escape to create quicksand pits, the restraints with the chessboard, and the flying sword with
the power of Pryncyp.
No ordinary people could guess his moves, and no one could tell what the sudden appearance of the
coffin meant.
Meanwhile, the bewilderment in the female cultivator’s eyes had turned into terror.
She had used all of her strength in the earlier attack.
Yet, it felt as if she had struck a cloud when her sword came into contact with the coffin—the second
her blade touched the coffin, the power and spiritual energy of the blade were absorbed completely.
It was something impossible.
The female cultivator tightened her grip on her sword as beads of sweat rolled off the tip of her nose.
For a cultivator like her to reach God Realm, she must have witnessed and overcome numerous
challenges, and even those in Divine Realm must have encountered diverse situations throughout their
cultivation journeys.
There were quite a number of cultivators who could resist her attack, but none could instantly absorb all
of the strength behind the attack, especially not a Divine Realm cultivator.
The female cultivator could only stare at the huge coffin in silence. Even though she knew that
Jonathan was on the verge of death, she still did not dare to move any closer to it.
Meanwhile, Jonathan was lying on the rippling white ground in a blank space, waiting for death.
Then, a monk in white robes walked over to him, barefooted.
In his trance, Jonathan could vaguely sense a life force beside him.
He instinctively but weakly opened his eyes to look at the monk.
“Jonathan, we finally meet,” the monk said with a soft chuckle.
Jonathan could not find the right words to describe the monk’s voice. It sounded thunderous, but it also
sounded like the chirps of birds. It sounded like dewdrops dripping into water, but it also sounded like
the wind caressing the leaves.
The monk only spoke a few words, but Jonathan felt as if he had just heard the most pleasant sounds
in the world. Somehow, it felt like he had gained another level of understanding of Pryncyp.
“Jonathan, you have been enlightened with the Pryncyp of Slaughter, but you do not crave bloodshed.
Interesting. Have you thought about this? Your killing is an act to stop wars.”
Jonathan stared at the monk in a daze. He tried straining his eyes to get a better look at the monk, but
it only served to make his vision blurrier.
Despite that, a voice in Jonathan’s head was telling him that the man before him could save him.
Summoning all the strength he had left, Jonathan shakily raised his right hand to grab the monk’s
ankle.
“Save… Save me…”
Jonathan’s voice was as quiet as the flutter of a bug’s wings.
Life and death were trivial matters to Jonathan after three years of fighting on the battlefield. In fact, the
grim reaper became his partner in the journey of his life when he started cultivating, an act that defied
nature.
Yet, he was pleading for the monk to save him.
Jonathan simply could not die right there and then.
Charleigh was missing, and Remdik was ready to attack.
A war might break out in Doveston, and Josephine and the baby in her were still in the Osborne
residence.
There were so many things Jonathan wanted to do.
The monk smiled and lowered his head to glance at his ankle.
Gazing at Jonathan’s weak grip, he sighed.
“Jonathan, I’ve saved you many times, but what happened after that? You used my life force to save
someone else. Do you think it’s endless?”
Jonathan was doing everything he could to grab the monk, but he could not muster any strength
anymore.
“Save me…” Jonathan repeated, but the monk continued to look at him in a tranquil manner.
“Yes, but you need to tell me who am I really saving—the indecisive Asura of Chanaea, or the Asura
who crawled out of hell and is stopping wars with wars and deaths with deaths.”
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