"Martial cultivator?"
A martial cultivator even more powerful than Tang Jie?
"My... my father... told me to enter... enter the bronze coffin and let me revive... He... he also had the guards protect me..." Xuan Ye stammered.
"What was your father's name?"
Tang Jie asked. Xuan Ye's father was a martial cultivator, and among martial artists, he must have been an extremely powerful and famous figure. No one who could become a martial cultivator was simple. Perhaps Tang Jie had even heard of him.
"My... my father's name was Xuan Kui!"
Xuan Ye looked extremely proud, his eyes filled with worship for his father.
"Xuan Kui?"
The name left Tang Jie somewhat puzzled, because he had never heard of it.
There were two possibilities. Xuan Ye might have been lying, but that was unlikely. Xuan Ye's intelligence was about that of a child around ten years old. Though he looked ferocious and violent, he actually had little scheming in him. He probably was not lying.
The second possibility was that too much time had passed—so much time that later generations no longer remembered that such a martial cultivator had ever existed.
Even powerful cultivators, after dying for thousands or tens of thousands of years, might not have anyone remember their names after enough time passed.
Xuan Ye's father, Xuan Kui, should have been a martial cultivator from an extremely distant era.
Thinking about it carefully, this was not strange. The underground palace beneath Black Wind Mountain Range showed that it had endured an unimaginably long stretch of time. After so many years, even if Xuan Kui had once been famous throughout the world, hardly anyone now would know his name or remember his deeds.
"Then do you know the origin of the bronze coffin?"
Tang Jie asked again. Xuan Kui,