The Legendary Man novel Chapter 1193

Seboxia looked at Jonathan, his eyes filled with an expression that said, “I already knew it.”

“Jonathan, your ability to scheme makes you a perfect candidate for a great villain. I told you before. You represent the death of the Four Honored Pryncyps. I think you should lean more toward that direction,” Seboxia suggested.

Jonathan approached Seboxia with a cheerful smile, then whispered in his ear, “Seboxia, when it comes to scheming, I’m nothing compared to you. I’m just an ordinary cultivator trying to make it through this crazy game you and the other old monsters are playing. You guys are the real masters of manipulation who can easily manipulate events that span centuries. I’m not even close to your level.”

Clasping his hands together, Seboxia said, “So, Mr. Goldstein, are you saying you don’t trust me?”

Jonathan touched his nose and replied, “Let’s not pretend to be honest and upright individuals here. If what you say is true, then why did you ruin my Pryncyp?”

Seboxia looked at Jonathan calmly while the latter had a smile on his face.

The two cunning foxes, one old and one young, locked eyes with each other while remaining silent.

The villagers of Mountain Village still had their heads lowered and dared not lift their gazes.

Though they couldn’t understand the meaning behind Jonathan and Seboxia’s conversation, they could tell that the two held extraordinary identities.

Clinton, who was closest to them, was lost in deep thought.

Being the furthest village on the outskirts, Mountain Village faced greater dangers compared to the other one hundred and seven villages closer to the center.

The vast wilderness beyond the one hundred and eight villages was filled with countless savage beasts.

Every time these beasts went on a rampage, regardless of the scale, the villages on the outskirts were the first to be affected.

They had thought of finding a way to move closer to the center, but Yannopolis gave a strict order to forbid them from doing so.

If they dared to make large-scale migration attempts, Yannopolis’ envoys would collectively take action and massacre anyone leaving the village.

According to the envoys, each village was like a nail firmly driven into the ground of a specific spot in the wilderness.

Whoever dared to step outside their boundaries would meet their demise.

However, as cultivators, who would willingly wait for death in the face of known danger?

Nevertheless, Yannopolis ruled these villages with a tight fist.
Over the years, unimportant villages on the outskirts like Mountain Village couldn’t find any opportunities at all to change their fates.
Moreover, Jonathan and Seboxia now emerged out of nowhere, even daring to take down Yannopolis’ envoys.
According to their conversation, there were over two hundred cultivators similar to Jonathan.
Wasn’t this the opportunity that Mountain Village had been waiting for?
Clinton glanced at the Yannopolis envoy struggling to force medicine into his own mouth in order to heal himself. At that moment, he quietly drew a bone saber.
Suddenly, an ear-piercing sound echoed through the air.
Jonathan looked up to see the same demonic bird which had brought the Yannopolis envoy here returning.
It swiftly descended from the high altitude and arrived in front of Jonathan and the others in the blink of an eye.
The Yannopolis envoy on the ground threw a magical item in the form of a rope toward the bird, accurately looping it onto the bird’s claw.
“Trying to escape?”
Jonathan brandished his Heaven Sword, but before he could make a move, someone else had already made a dash for the bird.
“Greyson, shoot!”
A furious roar rang out in the air, startling everyone.
Following a piercing scream, the bird quickly ascended and disappeared into the misty mountains in the distance.
In the air, droplets of blood fell, landing on the faces of the villagers of Mountain Village.
However, at this moment, nobody paid attention to that. The villagers’ gazes were all fixed on Clinton, who was standing in the middle.
Panting heavily, Clinton stood in front of Jonathan, holding a terrifying large claw belonging to the demonic bird.
It was Clinton who had dashed out earlier. He had used the bone saber to cut off one of the bird’s claws—the very same claw that was caught in the Yannopolis envoy’s rope.
The Yannopolis envoy holding the other end of the rope was now ashen-faced.
“Clinton Yorksland! How dare you!”
The envoy gritted his teeth and let out a desperate roar.

Summoning the bird back was his last means of escape, but now his opportunity was forcefully severed by Clinton, who had always been submissive to him.

How could he accept this?