Thus, over a long span of time, the Sacred Soul repeatedly escaped from the Sky Pit, began new adventures in new hosts, and ultimately reached the same ending each time, plunging the world into Doomsday.
Lu Li felt rather emotional for a moment. He understood something of the Demon God's sealing power and believed it was unlikely that the Demon God could completely break free of its restraints and control a person.
Then why did the world always fall into Doomsday? What exactly had the hosts of the Demon God throughout history done with its power in the end?
Lu Li was deeply puzzled, but he knew these were no longer questions the man before him could answer.
As the other man had said, he might have been a descendant of a watcher family. But by the time it had been passed down to him, he was the last one left, so destitute that he had to cling to a company's coattails just to survive.
Under such circumstances, the things the man knew were most likely fragmented and incomplete. Once he died, those matters would be buried forever.
That was why no matter how later computers sifted through the records, they would never find this inherited information. The man's family had likely preserved these secrets through ancient methods—written records or word of mouth.
"Kid, aren't you going to avenge your Master? Let me see the power of the Sacred Soul."
The man spoke again. The rain had already stopped. He removed his Exoskeleton Armor, stood firm on the ground, and assumed the opening stance of a fist technique, his body as steady as a mountain.
Lu Li looked at the martial arts grandmaster named Luo Xiao and adopted the same opening stance. "You've got more guts than your future self