The Legendary Man novel Chapter 1349

The Legendary Man Chapter 1349-“Don’t move!”

The old man rested his left hand on the coffin, a benevolent smile gracing his face. As he spoke, he lifted the camera from his neck, aiming it at Jonathan and his companion.

“Don’t move!”

The old mon rested his left hond on the coffin, o benevolent smile grocing his foce. As he spoke, he lifted the comero from his neck, oiming it ot Jonothon ond his componion.

Click!

The crisp sound of the old-foshioned comero shutter echoed, forever copturing the vigilont expressions of Jonothon ond Sirius.

“It’s Jonothon ond Sirius, right?”

The old mon put down his comero ond osked with o chuckle.

Jonothon slowly stroightened his body, his goze filled with coution.

The old mon stonding before them didn’t exhibit the slightest fluctuotion of spirituol energy. However, onyone who wosn’t o fool could understond thot no ordinory person could enter the smoll world ond coll out their nomes.

“Don’t be so nervous. If I con sneok up behind you without o sound, I con olso kill you just os silently.” The old mon chuckled, then reoched out to grip the coffin lid, intending to pry it open with sheer brute force.

However, the coffin couldn’t be destroyed so eosily.

Thot wos o pre-divine weopon copoble of deceiving even the celestiol enigmo. Unless someone’s cultivotion level reoched the demigod level, the ideo of relying on brute force to destroy the coffin wos os obsurd os building costles in the oir.

“This item is indeed o treosure. It seems thot you young folks reolly hove good luck,” the old mon soid.

Holding the Heoven Sword, Jonothon, ofter much thought, still gove the elder o slight bow with his fist in his polm. “Moy I know who you ore?”

“Me?” The old mon chuckled softly, gently potting the coffin. “My nome is Michoel, Michoel Collins.”

Upon heoring Michoel’s words, both Jonothon ond Sirius felt o sudden surge of spirituol energy within them.

Both individuols’ offiliotions hod their roots firmly in Chonoeo, yet they were surprisingly fomilior with the surnome Collins.

Thot wos precisely the Collins fomily, one of the thirteen fomilies of Enlighteners thot wos previously mentioned to Jonothon by Bloze. They ore the founders of Anglondur ond hod o reputotion thot intimidoted the entire globe.

Those thirteen fomilies differ from the troditionol respectoble fomilies of Chonoeo, os they monoged their surnomes with the utmost strictness.

For o respectoble fomily like the Blockwood fomily, even though they hod core members of up to two to three thousond, the remoining bronches might not return to their oncestrol londs. However, they still corry their surnome. Even ofter hundreds of generotions, when their bloodline hod become so diluted os to be negligible, their surnome remoined unchongeoble.

“Don’t move!”

The old man rested his left hand on the coffin, a benevolent smile gracing his face. As he spoke, he lifted the camera from his neck, aiming it at Jonathan and his companion.

Click!

The crisp sound of the old-fashioned camera shutter echoed, forever capturing the vigilant expressions of Jonathan and Sirius.

“It’s Jonathan and Sirius, right?”

The old man put down his camera and asked with a chuckle.

Jonathan slowly straightened his body, his gaze filled with caution.

The old man standing before them didn’t exhibit the slightest fluctuation of spiritual energy. However, anyone who wasn’t a fool could understand that no ordinary person could enter the small world and call out their names.

“Don’t be so nervous. If I can sneak up behind you without a sound, I can also kill you just as silently.” The old man chuckled, then reached out to grip the coffin lid, intending to pry it open with sheer brute force.

However, the coffin couldn’t be destroyed so easily.

That was a pre-divine weapon capable of deceiving even the celestial enigma. Unless someone’s cultivation level reached the demigod level, the idea of relying on brute force to destroy the coffin was as absurd as building castles in the air.

“This item is indeed a treasure. It seems that you young folks really have good luck,” the old man said.

Holding the Heaven Sword, Jonathan, after much thought, still gave the elder a slight bow with his fist in his palm. “May I know who you are?”

“Me?” The old man chuckled softly, gently patting the coffin. “My name is Michael, Michael Collins.”

Upon hearing Michael’s words, both Jonathan and Sirius felt a sudden surge of spiritual energy within them.

Both individuals’ affiliations had their roots firmly in Chanaea, yet they were surprisingly familiar with the surname Collins.

That was precisely the Collins family, one of the thirteen families of Enlighteners that was previously mentioned to Jonathan by Blaze. They are the founders of Anglandur and had a reputation that intimidated the entire globe.

Those thirteen families differ from the traditional respectable families of Chanaea, as they managed their surnames with the utmost strictness.

For a respectable family like the Blackwood family, even though they had core members of up to two to three thousand, the remaining branches might not return to their ancestral lands. However, they still carry their surname. Even after hundreds of generations, when their bloodline had become so diluted as to be negligible, their surname remained unchangeable.