Chapter 1251 Supreme God Sheffield's Tomb

A wave of dizziness swept over Darren as the world around him began to change.

"Puff!"

As soon as he landed on the ground, Darren felt a dull pain in his chest. A brief moment later, he spat out a mouthful of blood.

"Master, this place..."

The ground in front of Darren was covered in blood mist, and several fierce howls could be heard one after another. Waves of killing intent hit his soul, causing injuries that had led him to spit out blood.

"Stay here for a month. If you survive, you can become my disciple," Lord Starry Sword instructed.

"But master, I'm in the soul state now. I can only exist like this for a limited amount of time." Darren remembered Murphy's warning that they could only stay here for four hours. He calculated how much time had passed and knew he was about to reach the limit.

"No more excuses. Just do as I say."

"Okay."

Although Darren was doubtful, since Lord Starry Sword persisted, he figured time wasn't an issue. He speculated that the time flow rate here might be different from that in the outside world.

With a nod of understanding, Darren walked forward.

After he crossed a few dozen feet, the space in front of him rippled, as if he had passed through an invisible barrier.

Almost immediately, his body quivered violently. Such agony coursed through him that he fell to the ground.

"Soul torture."

Darren's features twisted as he felt unbearable pain coming from his soul.

He looked back with great difficulty at the place where he had landed a short while ago, only to find that the blood mist had thickened, and Lord Starry Sword had disappeared.

"Howl!"

"Roar!"

Suddenly, he heard several guttural sounds coming from the blood mist around, and a fresh wave of pain coursed through his soul.

He clutched his head and tried to activate the God Character in his brain to counteract the pain.

However, to his surprise, this time, he couldn't trigger the omnipotent God Character.

The unbearable pain overwhelmed Darren, and he lacked the strength to rise from the ground. He had no choice but to endure the suffering in silence.

After what seemed a long time, he felt something flash in front of him.

A split second later, rays of pale green light rose from the ground. The green light encircled Darren, and murmuring sounds and chants poured into his ears. Soon, a peculiar feeling replaced the agony from the soul torture.

double-edged bloody sword in his left hand.

Who was this figure? Why did he have such a powerful aura? How could he instill such terror in all the witchers? Darren was so curious that he wasn't overwhelmed by paralyzing fear, like the witchers.

"Why are you still standing there? Leave!"

an anxious witcher shouted at Darren.

"Where can I go?"

he replied with a shrug. Darren could feel that the person was far more powerful than him and that his speed was a hundred times faster than his. If the person wanted to chase him, he couldn't escape anyway.

"Alas,"

the witcher sighed, and everyone fell silent.

No words were needed as they knew what had to be done. They struggled to sit up. With withered hands clasped together, they began to chant.

Wisps of green light flew out from the witchers and drifted toward Darren. The light wrapped around him like a silk cocoon, forming a protective shield.

The figure finally neared.

"Supreme God, please calm down. Please return to your restful state,"

the witchers implored as they knelt in unison.

"Roar! Roar! Roar!"

Ruthless and cold howls pierced the air, and the remaining witchers were reduced to ash.

A storm formed and clashed with the green protective cover around Darren. He was sent flying into the air like a shooting star. The intensity was so dreadful that he didn't even slow down after covering dozens of kilometers.

Darren was shocked. This person's strength was beyond his imagination.

He was even more astounded when he heard the witchers address the figure as "Supreme God." Was he Supreme God Sheffield?