With the victory unfolding, White Mitchell's vision gradually clears.
He finds himself once again in the ancient temple.
The difference is, a massive stele now appears before him.
The stele was initially blank. Yet once White Mitchell woke up, a name gradually surfaced on it.
"Saint, Jonathan!"
Seeing the name suddenly appearing on the stele, White Mitchell was initially stunned, but soon a familiar feeling flooded his mind.
It was as if he personally knew this Jonathan.
"Could it be that the experience I just had belongs to Jonathan?" White Mitchell pondered with a frown.
However, before he had time to react, the stele shone brightly, and the image before White Mitchell's eyes shifted once again.
White Mitchell was born into a humble farming family, and although of low birth, he possessed an extraordinary intelligence and a longing for martial Dao. He would often wave a wooden sword around in the fields, imitating the heroes from martial arts novels.
