CHAPTER 277: CHAPTER277-THE ELDER OF THE SANCTUARY

Bermuda detected his son’s aura on Owen and the others.

As far as he knew, his son usually mingled with a few followers within the religious sect and rarely acted with others.

Most crucially, his son had died, yet these few seemed unscathed.

If Bermuda couldn’t discern the issue here, his years of living would have been in vain.

With Bermuda making another move, Owen and his companions found themselves immobilized, their hearts filled with shock.

This was their first encounter with such a method; they had not anticipated that an enlightenment-tier powerhouse could wield such terrifying power.

Owen tried to mobilize his arcanergy and the power of orders to break free from the immobilization.

However, after a while, not only could he not break free, but the arcanergy swirling around him was also forcibly frozen.

This was Owen’s first encounter with such an inconceivable method, leaving him aghast and also feeling a surge of helplessness.

He realized that under such power, he was no better than an ant.

No, not even an ant.

At least an ant could survive a puff of breath, whereas he now felt that a single breath from his opponent would dissolve him into nothingness.

Owen glanced at Anderson and the others, finding them similarly frozen in mid-air.

He attempted to use his transmitting stone to send a message, but he couldn’t even release his soul power.

"It’s over..."

Owen inwardly cursed, feeling a sense of foreboding when the mirror-like formation appeared.

After catching up with Anderson and the others, they had fled frantically, yet they still couldn’t escape...

Crack!

The space in front of Owen and the others shattered, revealing an abyss of utter darkness, with violent winds surging through.

Bermuda stepped forward, his eyes, full of majesty, looking towards Owen and the others, while an endless pressure assaulted them.

Yashum and Perini instantly fell to their knees, and Owen and Anderson didn’t fare much better.

They felt as though the imposing middle-aged man before them belonged to a different level of existence entirely.

If they were mere mortals, then this middle-aged man felt like a godly being to them, stirring a sense of awe in their hearts.

"Do you recognize your sins?"

With each step Bermuda took towards them in the air, that sense of disparity within their hearts deepened, their bodies involuntarily beginning to kneel.

Owen’s body trembled, his eyes widened, and bloodshot, wanting to roar to muster more strength, but the space around him still held him immobile, forcing him to slowly kneel down against his will.

If this continued, he would have to summon more of his original body’s power to cope.

But doing so could mean the end of this world, forcing everything to start anew.

"Oh?"

Bermuda, not far in front of Owen and Anderson, sensed something peculiar about them, letting out a surprised sound.

He released his mental power, enveloping Owen and Anderson.

"Catastrophe Sacred Body... Pure Spirit Body?"

Bermuda’s gaze finally showed significant fluctuation, his mind beginning to ponder.

If these two truly possessed rare physiques, he couldn’t just kill them.

As a powerhouse among the world’s elite, he was well aware of the impending cataclysm, possibly even an apocalyptic calamity.

With the current strength of the world, it likely wouldn’t be enough to withstand this disaster...

Yet, how could he let go of the two who might have caused his son’s death?

A thought crossed Bermuda’s mind as he released Owen and Anderson from their constraints, speaking slowly, "Your beings carry the aura of my son. Whether or not his death is related to you, you must accompany him in burial."

Owen and Anderson’s gazes shifted slightly, aware that their immediate safety was secured, at least for the moment.

This person hadn’t killed them outright but had spoken superfluous words, suggesting they might hold some value to this powerhouse.

As Owen and Anderson had anticipated, Bermuda’s tone suddenly shifted.

"However, considering your potential crucial role in the upcoming great war, I shall grant you a chance." Here, Bermuda paused, his gaze turning cold, "Submit, or die."

Owen and Anderson furrowed their brows.

It was clear this person valued their talents, yet it was unexpected he would employ such a despicable method to coerce them.

"You have three breaths to decide. After three breaths, your two companions will precede you in death."

Having said this, Bermuda closed his eyes, waiting for the time of three breaths to elapse.

One breath passed in a blink, two breaths...

As the third breath was about to arrive, Owen and Anderson dug their nails into their palms, blood flowing continuously.

How could they choose? Either choice went against their innermost principles: to submit would mean betraying the Sanctuary and joining the Tyrant Cult.

And Yashum and Perini were companions they had spent nearly half a year with...

"Wait." Seeing the third breath about to pass, Owen quickly called out.

Bermuda glanced at Owen, stating flatly, "Don’t think to delay time. Speak quickly."

Owen’s eyes revealed a sense of helplessness.

This individual had lived for countless years, being called an old fox was no exaggeration.

Still, Owen tried to delay time, not knowing how far the elder was from them, but understanding that every moment they could extend, their hope of being saved increased.

"Elder..." Owen barely started speaking when Bermuda interrupted him.

"Enough, let me show you who the real powerhouse is."

Bermuda waved his hand, directing his gaze towards the void on Owen and the others’ left side, his facial muscles tensing slightly.

Suddenly, A cheerful voice emerged from that void.

"To think you would dare to be so arrogant knowing it’s my people, it seems your strength has significantly improved over the years?"

A strikingly handsome young man stepped out from the void, casually releasing the space frozen around them, looking towards Bermuda with a smile.

Bermuda immediately snorted coldly.

"You were just born a few hundred years before me. In terms of strength, you are no longer my match."

The young man smiled at Bermuda.

"Weren’t you quite arrogant before, lad?"

With a step, the young man moved to stand a few yards in front of Bermuda, parallel to Owen and the others, and said meaningfully to Bermuda, "Now that I’m here, why stop?"

"You..." Bermuda’s expression darkened instantly but then, recalling something, his gaze became more solemn.

He took a step back and asked the young man, "Did you just arrive?"

"To be precise, I’ve always been beside them."

The young man, still wearing a faint smile, continued to approach Bermuda, who subconsciously took a step back.

"Scared?"

The young man, smiling, stood with his hands behind his back, looking at Bermuda.

Bermuda’s expression wavered, but as an enlightenment-tier powerhouse, he quickly regained his composure, speaking coldly, "It seems you’ve mastered some clever tricks over the years."

After speaking, Bermuda fell silent, retreating further.

Despite his words, as a being at the pinnacle of the world, he could clearly distinguish true power from mere tricks.

He was certain that the young man’s strength had greatly increased in recent years, possibly nearing the Realm Lord level.

How could he not be apprehensive?

Owen had guessed that this young man was the elder of the Sanctuary, Christopher.

"How about we spar a bit?" Christopher continued with a serene smile.

As his voice fell, he stepped in front of Bermuda and, without any warning, struck towards Bermuda’s chest with a palm.

Bermuda was sent flying back without any resistance, a stream of blood spraying from his mouth.

As soon as the blood touched the ground, the flora began to grow wildly, covering hundreds of miles with verdant life in an instant.

Owen and the others watched all of this with their mouths agape.

To be precise, they had been in awe since the elder appeared.

What shocked them the most was the elder’s ability to defeat the pope of the Tyrant Cult with a single palm strike.

The pope’s blood had transformed hundreds of miles into a land brimming with vitality.

"Are you... the elder?" Anderson asked, dumbfounded.

Owen was puzzled.

Had Anderson never met the elder before?

He had joined the Sanctuary earlier than Owen and was supposedly more familiar with the elder, so his shock at this moment far surpassed Owen’s.

Christopher patted Anderson on the shoulder, laughing, "Lad, don’t you recognize me just because I’ve changed my appearance? The old man you’ve seen before wasn’t my true form."

Anderson bowed, saying, "It’s truly because the elder’s transformation was so drastic, I failed to recognize you at first."

Christopher laughed heartily.

"Well, this appearance of mine hasn’t been seen for hundreds of years, it’s normal you didn’t recognize me."

"Let me handle this matter first. You go and check on your two companions in the meantime."

With that, Christopher looked towards Bermuda, his figure vanishing from the spot.

Owen’s eyes gleamed with eagerness.

Both the elder and Bermuda had reached the enlightenment-tier, yet the aftermath of their battle was completely imperceptible, as if it were a mere scuffle between ordinary people.