"You're dreaming if you think that'll happen!" the Old Daoist cursed. "How did I end up with such a bastard disciple?!"
Driving out ghosts and hunting demons meant trading your life for money. Did he really think those demons and monsters were harmless vegetarians, just standing there waiting to be beaten to death without fighting back?
Thinking of how demons now ran rampant, colluding with warlords in secret and devouring living people at will.
The hundreds of millions of citizens within the grand realm of Yuanyue had now been reduced to food for these otherworldly demons.
The Old Daoist's heart filled with bleak sorrow.
"If only True Blood and True Strength still existed as they did back then..." he could not help sighing again.
Unfortunately, martial arts had now declined. True Strength could not even produce a Second Blood, much less anything beyond that.
As for True Blood, there was even less to say. The bloodlines had been severed, and it was not even comparable to True Strength.
"Speaking of which, let's first go seek refuge with an old friend in this area," the Old Daoist said in a low voice. "He was once my fellow disciple and senior brother. But later, an accident left him crippled. He stopped competing with others and focused on recuperating. In the end, that was when he found himself in a good place."
Mentioning that senior brother, he sighed with feeling for a moment.
"What's your senior brother's name, old man?" the young Daoist asked curiously.
"Zhou Xingtong. When we get there, remember to call him Uncle-Master Zhou."
"Oh."
Just as the old man and the young man passed through the street.
At a window on the third floor of a tavern not far away, Wei He's wrist suddenly paused, and the tea in