No one had expected Chen Yan to suddenly speak up at this moment. Old Daoist Liu looked at the youth's straight back before him, hesitating to speak.
Three-Eyed also had not expected anyone to dare stop him now. But when his gaze met Chen Yan's icy eyes, a flicker of fear instinctively flashed through his own.
Yet Three-Eyed quickly straightened up again. Looking at the aloof youth before him, he said in a strange, mocking tone:
"What? These legs belong to yours truly. I'll leave when I want to leave, stay when I want to stay. Does this little lord have a problem with that?"
Chen Yan did not even spare Three-Eyed a glance. He looked toward Situ Yun in the distance, whose cold gaze rested upon him. The Dao Foundation Realm—mere eye contact alone brought him immense pressure.
Yet Chen Yan seemed not to feel it at all. His expression was earnest, and as though speaking to himself, he said:
"I've always wondered... what exactly was the purpose of my martial training and Dao cultivation?"
The youth's cool voice rang through the air. For a moment, everyone's eyes turned toward him of their own accord.
Chen Yan's voice continued:
"Was it to protect myself and those around me in this man-eating world?"
"It seemed so, yet it also seemed not."
"Was it to seek immortality and take my place among the immortals?"
"Yes, yet perhaps not entirely."
"Then what was it all for?"
Chen Yan looked at the saber in his hand, then at the Daoist robe on his body. His eyes abruptly hardened with resolve. Raising his head, he said coldly:
"I thought about it again and again. I practiced martial arts and cultivated the Dao both to establish myself in the world and to seek immortality. But