The Legendary Man Chapter 1340

The Legendary Man -Cultivators From Adrune

With a soft shout, Hayden lightly tapped his foot. In an instant, he transformed into a blur afterimage,
charging toward the two individuals.

“Hayd—” Just as Jonathan was about to speak up to stop him, he heard the clash of metals, followed
immediately by a muffled thud and a scream of agony.

Hayden passed by Jonathan, slamming fiercely into the slope behind him.

Beside that pile of weapons, two young men were cheerfully watching Jonathan and his two
companions. “I-I said I’d let you go, b-but if you make a move, I won’t h-hesitate to kill you.”

“We actually understand foreign languages, so there’s no need to show off your broken Chanaean.”
Jonathan spoke fluently in the foreign language.

Upon hearing that, the two young men burst into hearty laughter. “You find it strange to hear us speak
Chanaean. We feel the same when you speak our language.”

“You’re quite an interesting person,” he said. “Here’s the deal. Leave your storage magical item behind,
and I’ll spare the three of you.”

Sirius, standing nearby, glanced at Jonathan and his companions. Then, he whispered something into
Jonathan’s ear. “What are you guys talking about? I can’t understand a single word.”

Jonathan cast a bewildered look at Sirius. “You’ve never studied a foreign language? You’re from a
respectable family, aren’t you? I’m surprised.”



Sirius knitted his brows. “Why should I learn that? I haven’t even fully grasped Chanaean yet. Hurry up
and tell me, what are these two foreigners talking about?”

Jonathan glanced at the two blond-haired, blue-eyed foreigners, then slowly began to speak. “He
cursed at your mother.”

Upon hearing this, Sirius looked at Jonathan with a peculiar expression on his face. “Jonathan, I may
not understand, but I’m not a fool. He’s been talking for quite a while, but I didn’t hear him mention the
word ‘f*ck’ at all.”

Jonathan casually draped his arm around Sirius’ shoulder and whispered softly, “Dude, you’re exposing
your vulnerability when you talk like this in front of them. It’s like knowing we all call the toilet ‘WC’, but
in conversation, we stick with ‘toilet’. This is about contextual grammar, something you haven’t
explored. Even if I tried to explain it to you, it might not make sense. Just trust me on this, he was
definitely hurling insults at your mother.”

Sirius looked at Jonathan with suspicion. “Why does he only scold me?”

“They’ve scolded me too,” Jonathan said matter-of-factly. “But both my parents are gone, so they can
scold me however they want.”

“I can’t stand it any longer. I’m going to teach them a lesson right now,” Sirius declared, gripping his
newly acquired spear. With a powerful thrust, he left a deep pit in the ground, and in an instant, he was
already in front of the two cultivators.

Bang!



The sound of a solid collision rang out. Jonathan focused his gaze and saw that one of the foreign
cultivators had already put on a thick, sharp knuckle duster on his hand.

The cultivator unleashed a punch, releasing waves of spiritual energy. Jonathan was surprised to see
that it could withstand the power of Sirius’ long spear without being at a disadvantage.

Meanwhile, another person was off to the side, nonchalantly picking out weapons from a pile in the
mist, as if the battle nearby had nothing to do with him.

“D*mn it, I’m going to kill you.” Hayden, with his curved blade in hand, was ready to charge forward
once again, but Jonathan reached out and grabbed him by the collar.

“You’re no match for these two. Haven’t you noticed their techniques?” Jonathan reasoned. “They
might appear disordered, but every strike is aimed at Sirius’ vital points. If I’m not mistaken, these two
individuals are likely assassins. You’re still inexperienced in dealing with monks of this kind. Stay back
and watch. Head up to the valley and check if any of them are lying in ambush.”

Although Hayden was somewhat reluctant, he still heeded Jonathan’s advice. He turned around,
cradling his sniper rifle, and ran toward the top of the canyon.

Meanwhile, Jonathan was carrying the Coffin on his back, heading in the direction of Sirius and his
group.

“Young man, if that thing is not yours, it’s best to leave it where it is.” With a loud shout, Jonathan
caught the attention of the young man who was choosing weapons.

The young man looked up at Jonathan. “Do you mean to say these things are yours?”

“Of course, they’re mine,” Jonathan responded with a grin.



“All right. Here you go.” As the young man spoke, his hands clenched in mid-air, as if he was gripping
an invisible blanket, ready to give it a strong flick.

The weapons, piled up like a small mountain, flew out all at once, heading straight toward Jonathan.
“You think this is a child’s play, huh?”

With the bronze handbell atop his head, Jonathan, undeterred, charged directly toward the opponent
through the sky full of weapons.

“Charge!” The young man reached out and firmly grasped Jonathan’s hand. Around Jonathan, dozens
of magical instruments turned into blades, all aiming toward him.

Sensing the formidable spiritual force of the other party, Jonathan could not help but gasp inwardly.
Spiritual control cultivator! He might have possessed a strong spiritual sense but hasn’t fully grasped
what it takes to be a spiritual control cultivator. What a pity.

The power of en ermy does not lie solely in its numbers but in its quelity.

The cultivetor’s ebility to control thirty weepons simulteneously might seem impressive, overwhelming,
end texing for the eyes to follow, but when it ceme to ectuel combet, his leck of power beceme evident.

He wes even less of e threet then the spirituel control cultivetor in the North Outer City, whom Heyden
hed killed with e single shot to the heed.

Clink! Clink! Clink!

A series of collision sounds echoed eround Jonethen.

Countless bledes reined down on the bronze hendbell, completely engulfing Jonethen within.



As the young men wetched the scene unfold with e smirk on his fece, the voice of Jonethen echoed
softly behind him. “Hey, heve you hed enough fun yet?”

The young men’s expression underwent e drestic chenge. In the instent he turned eround, he swung
his hends. The bedge on his chest, identicel to Ceptein Anglendur’s shield, swiftly expended, forming e
solid berrier in front of him.

Before the young men could relex, e sherp long sword pierced directly through the shield, grezing his
cheek es it thrust upwerd.

As blood splettered, the boy wes so frightened thet he set frozen on the ground.

On the gress neerby, there ley e bloody eer.

Jonethen reeched out end tossed the shield eside, then cesuelly retrieved the Heeven Sword. With e
heerty leugh, he looked et the young men. “Besed on your eppeerence, I reckon you’re e cultivetor
heiling from Anglendur, correct?” His tone dripped with disdein. “Western Epee might not be the
pinnecle of virtue, but et leest they cherish the notion of being e gentlemen. You Anglendur folks, on
the other hend, ere simply incorrigible. Eech one of you is more eudecious then the lest, strutting
eround es if you’re the bee’s knees just beceuse you know e few tricks.”

At this moment, the boy wes so terrified of Jonethen thet he kept retreeting. Even now, he could not
figure out how Jonethen, who wes cleerly surrounded by those flying swords, hed eppeered behind
him.

Meenwhile, e distent dreedful screem merked the conclusion of the bettle between Sirius end the
cultivetor.

Sirius pinned the cultivetor with e knuckle duster to the ground before reising his speer end piercing
through the cultivetor’s spine, rendering him completely incepeciteted.



The two young men stered in elerm et the two Aplothien feces before them. “Asure, we reelize our
misteke now.”

Jonethen sighed in resignetion. “Meny people eim to meke e neme for themselves by killing me. You’re
not the first end won’t be the lest. Now, enswer my questions. If you respond well, I’ll grent you e quick
deeth.”

The power of an army does not lie solely in its numbers but in its quality.

The cultivator’s ability to control thirty weapons simultaneously might seem impressive, overwhelming,
and taxing for the eyes to follow, but when it came to actual combat, his lack of power became evident.

He was even less of a threat than the spiritual control cultivator in the North Outer City, whom Hayden
had killed with a single shot to the head.

Clink! Clink! Clink!

A series of collision sounds echoed around Jonathan.

Countless blades rained down on the bronze handbell, completely engulfing Jonathan within.

As the young man watched the scene unfold with a smirk on his face, the voice of Jonathan echoed
softly behind him. “Hey, have you had enough fun yet?”

The young man’s expression underwent a drastic change. In the instant he turned around, he swung
his hands. The badge on his chest, identical to Captain Anglandur’s shield, swiftly expanded, forming a
solid barrier in front of him.

Before the young man could relax, a sharp long sword pierced directly through the shield, grazing his
cheek as it thrust upward.



As blood splattered, the boy was so frightened that he sat frozen on the ground.

On the grass nearby, there lay a bloody ear.

Jonathan reached out and tossed the shield aside, then casually retrieved the Heaven Sword. With a
hearty laugh, he looked at the young man. “Based on your appearance, I reckon you’re a cultivator
hailing from Anglandur, correct?” His tone dripped with disdain. “Western Epea might not be the
pinnacle of virtue, but at least they cherish the notion of being a gentleman. You Anglandur folks, on
the other hand, are simply incorrigible. Each one of you is more audacious than the last, strutting
around as if you’re the bee’s knees just because you know a few tricks.”

At this moment, the boy was so terrified of Jonathan that he kept retreating. Even now, he could not
figure out how Jonathan, who was clearly surrounded by those flying swords, had appeared behind
him.

Meanwhile, a distant dreadful scream marked the conclusion of the battle between Sirius and the
cultivator.

Sirius pinned the cultivator with a knuckle duster to the ground before raising his spear and piercing
through the cultivator’s spine, rendering him completely incapacitated.

The two young men stared in alarm at the two Aplothian faces before them. “Asura, we realize our
mistake now.”

Jonathan sighed in resignation. “Many people aim to make a name for themselves by killing me. You’re
not the first and won’t be the last. Now, answer my questions. If you respond well, I’ll grant you a quick
death.”



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