The temporary space Time-Space Houn had opened was right at the entrance to our cave. It was not large, only a dozen square meters or so, but it was enough to hold those guys.
It had also constructed a barrier inside the space. In other words, even if someone stumbled into it by accident, they would not be able to see the prisoners. Not only could they not see them, they would be utterly unable to sense them. Unless the intruder was skilled at controlling space.
Of course, there was an even more direct and simple method: forcibly break it open with a special means. Sacred God's Blood, for example, could do it.
Under Time-Space Houn's guidance, I had also learned the skill of temporarily opening up a small space. However, it had mocked me plenty during the learning process. In its words, my comprehension was simply too poor.
Ying Gou even joined in to drive the point home. He said I was the weakest reincarnation of Guiguzi he had ever seen.
He said each generation was worse than the last.
But I was not angry. Guiguzi understood this more clearly than they did. Although I was Guiguzi's reincarnation and cultivated reincarnation, every version of "me" in every lifetime was an independent person, not an appendage of Guiguzi. Just as, in this lifetime, I was Jiang Xiaobai.
If I had known all this from the beginning and been given a choice, I really would have preferred to lie low and be a useless slacker.
Rather than running myself ragged everywhere, risking my life against people everywhere, fighting battles of wits and strength.
I was already sick of this kind of life.
I missed those days at the Little Ancestral Hall Entrance—carefree days when I did not have to think about