The Legendary Man

Chapter 818 Is It Pryncyp
Jonathan paled when he saw the blood in his palm. Aetomoye should be in control of these blood mists, yet they've easily
gathered in my hand. There's only one place he could've gone to!
As he remained still, he looked inward and saw his blood, bones, and meridians in his mind.
With a blink of an eye, he examined his entire body, inside and out.
He was starting to comprehend the situation. My blood is flowing slower! Did Aetomoye enter my bloodstream?
As he pondered that possibility, he heard Aetomoye's sneer in his mind. “Yes, I'm in your bloodstream right now.”
“How is that possible?” Jonathan's expression shifted as he searched for Aetomoye in his blood but found nothing unusual.
“Stop wasting your time. I have complete mastery over Pryncyp of Blood. As long as there is fresh blood around to act as a
medium, I'm functionally immortal. In any case, I've become one with you the moment I entered your body. To put it another way,
the universe has tacitly agreed that I can live within the body I come in contact with! You want to kill me, don't you, Jonathan?
Well, I'm curious to see how you'll kill yourself!” uttered Aetomoye smugly.
Jonathan was dumbfounded. He's saying I have to kill myself to kill him? What kind of bullsh*t is this? I've heard of self-sacrifices
before, but this is ludicrous!
No one outside of Divine Chessboard knew what was going on inside.
Instead of busting out of the encirclement, Hossom and Prima returned to Divine Chessboard again because their paths were
blocked.
Divine Chessboard was only two meters in length and width. Its brilliant, omnidirectional glow was isolating itself from the outside
world.

The bloody mist spreading on the chessboard had vanished entirely by that point. All that was left was Jonathan, standing in the
middle of the board with his eyes closed and sword in hand.
“You won! You're awesome, Mr. Goldstein!” Hossom pressed his body on the half-transparent light barrier and howled while
Prima stood beside him.
“I can't believe you manage to erase that baldy from existence! You're my idol, Mr. Goldstein!” His excited shouting reverberated
through the ruins as he slammed his fist on the light barrier.
When the thirty or so Grandmaster Realm cultivators saw that, they put on their guards instead of charging forward.
While they didn't believe their immortal divine messenger was killed by Jonathan, they couldn't deny Jonathan was the only
person left in the light barrier.
It didn't matter whether they knew why Jonathan was rooted to his spot with his eyes closed. They still didn't have the guts to
approach their enemy when Hossom was cheering loudly.
“Open the door, Sir! Don't just hide inside and stay quiet! Come out quickly and kill these sons of b*tches! They got a few good
hits on me, you know? Open the light barrier, Sir! I'm hurt! Sir...” Hossom was getting exhausted from all the shouting.
However, even after a few minutes passed, Jonathan remained unresponsive, as though he had become a statue.
The Seboxiasm monks gradually reacted to the situation.
While they had no clue what was transpiring inside, they could tell Jonathan was very likely immobile. As they wielded their
weapons, they were prepared to launch another assault.
Upon sensing the enemy's hostility, Hossom panted and pulled Prima to his back.
“I think I've come to realize your style, Sir. No matter what you do, you'll always want to be the grand finale. That's fine by me. I
need you to help me watch my back while I attack first. If I get hurt, you have to save me like before, okay?” Just as he ended his
sentence, a figure appeared next to him.

Using his swords, he pushed the black spear away.
“Prima, turn your back against the barrier! You don't need to worry about the enemy behind you!” yelled Hossom as he engaged
with the cultivator ahead of him in combat.
A chaotic battle ensued once more.
Concurrently, Jonathan and Aetomoye were standing on a giant stage in the former's mind.
Not only was the stage a mental construction, but the two figures standing on it were as well.
It was like an illusion. Visible, but incorporeal.
“Your subordinate is so very noisy, Jonathan,” Aetomoye sneered. “If you don't accept my condition, I'll just keep living inside
you. You better think this through, Jonathan. I can change the speed of your blood flow and create blood clots whenever I wish!
In fact, I can end your life with just a single thought!”
“What are you going to do after you kill me? Can you leave Divine Chessboard?” Jonathan frowned. “Isn't it enough that I
promise I'll let you go?”
“No.” Aetomoye shook his head. “As I said, I'll only leave your body if you vow to find me a cultivator.”
Murderous intent swirled in Jonathan's eyes as he glared at Aetomoye's illusory figure.
While making a vow seemed simple, it was basically the equivalent of cutting off Jonathan's cultivation path.
No matter what, he didn't want to let Aetomoye go. If he did it to protect his life, he would be planting the fear of death in his
mind.
A cultivator was an individual who absorbed energy from the universe while spending their life defying it.

Once they started becoming afraid of death, they wouldn't be able to raise their cultivation level anymore.
Despite that, Jonathan had no other ideas to deal with Aetomoye.
Just as he was deep in thought, he heard Hossom's voice saying, “I think I've come to realize your style, Sir. No matter what you
do, you'll always want to be the grand finale. That's fine by me. I need you to help me watch my back while I attack first. If I get
hurt, you have to save me like before, okay?”
Those words helped Jonathan realize something. After all the pointless sh*t he uttered in the past, he finally said something
helpful. Anyway, when I saved him earlier, I used the life force kept inside that mysterious coffin. However, who can say for sure
what exactly this life force is?
When his train of thought ended there, he turned to Aetomoye. “Since we can't take each other out right now, let me ask you a
question that has been bothering me for a while. When we first start our cultivation, we train our vitality and body first before
allowing spiritual energy to enter our flesh, connecting us to the universe. Since you've completely grasped a Pryncyp, which
energy will you say is our life force? Is it the power of Pryncyp?”
“What ara you going to do aftar you kill ma? Can you laava Divina Chassboard?” Jonathan frownad. “Isn't it anough that I
promisa I'll lat you go?”
“No.” Aatomoya shook his haad. “As I said, I'll only laava your body if you vow to find ma a cultivator.”
Murdarous intant swirlad in Jonathan's ayas as ha glarad at Aatomoya's illusory figura.
Whila making a vow saamad simpla, it was basically tha aquivalant of cutting off Jonathan's cultivation path.
No mattar what, ha didn't want to lat Aatomoya go. If ha did it to protact his lifa, ha would ba planting tha faar of daath in his
mind.
A cultivator was an individual who absorbad anargy from tha univarsa whila spanding thair lifa dafying it.

Onca thay startad bacoming afraid of daath, thay wouldn't ba abla to raisa thair cultivation laval anymora.
Daspita that, Jonathan had no othar idaas to daal with Aatomoya.
Just as ha was daap in thought, ha haard Hossom's voica saying, “I think I'va coma to raaliza your styla, Sir. No mattar what you
do, you'll always want to ba tha grand finala. That's fina by ma. I naad you to halp ma watch my back whila I attack first. If I gat
hurt, you hava to sava ma lika bafora, okay?”
Thosa words halpad Jonathan raaliza somathing. Aftar all tha pointlass sh*t ha uttarad in tha past, ha finally said somathing
halpful. Anyway, whan I savad him aarliar, I usad tha lifa forca kapt insida that mystarious coffin. Howavar, who can say for sura
what axactly this lifa forca is?
Whan his train of thought andad thara, ha turnad to Aatomoya. “Sinca wa can't taka aach othar out right now, lat ma ask you a
quastion that has baan botharing ma for a whila. Whan wa first start our cultivation, wa train our vitality and body first bafora
allowing spiritual anargy to antar our flash, connacting us to tha univarsa. Sinca you'va complataly graspad a Pryncyp, which
anargy will you say is our lifa forca? Is it tha powar of Pryncyp?”