Song Qingxing took Wu Tiancheng's Storage Bag, then retrieved the lower half of his body that had "run away from home," allowing him to tend to his own injuries while copying down the divine ability.
Facing an old guy skilled at using poison, Song Qingxing naturally could not afford to let down his guard. The [Traceless Sword] seemed to have grown eyes, keeping a dead watch over Wu Tiancheng's every move.
For now, the other man was still behaving himself. After barely "reattaching" his body, he tore off a piece of his robe and faithfully copied down the divine ability he had used earlier.
This was the Wu Family's inherited divine ability, and also their only Great Divine Ability. He had spent half his life barely gaining entry into it. It had always been his life-saving trump card, never failing him over the past several centuries. Yet this time, he had finally stumbled.
It was not that the divine ability lacked subtlety; his opponent was simply too strong. One sword strike flattened all beneath heaven—no matter how many phantoms there were, they were useless.
He had originally intended to leave some traps within the divine ability manual for Song Qingxing, but after thinking it over, he ultimately gave up. Judging from the methods and strength Song Qingxing had displayed, he most likely came from some great power with deep foundations. Cultivators from such forces shared one common trait: they were learned and knowledgeable.
If the other party spotted even the slightest flaw, forget revenge—when the time came, he might find even death difficult to seek. For now, winning the other party's trust had to be the priority.
"This is my Wu Family's founding divine ability, [Thousand Shadow Tracing]. Please examine it." Wu Tiancheng forcibly suppressed the resentment and killing intent