Bian Lao Er felt as though he had dreamed a hazy yet beautiful dream.
In its haze, he seemed to have done many things and said many words, yet he could not remember or realize what he had done or said. Its beauty lay in the fact that he could sense himself following the Ninth Prince, Beitang Shu, and accomplishing a great undertaking unheard of since ancient times. Not only had he helped the man to whom he was loyal successfully reach the summit and create history, but he had also won fame and achievement for himself, living a life without regret.
After a long while, waves of pain jolted Bian Lao Er awake once more. His drifting consciousness and hazy, illusory mind began returning to his body. Then, as though startled awake from a nightmare, he gasped for breath in great gulps, his entire body drenched in sweat.
"You, you... sorcery, sorcery! You used sorcery to bewitch me, you demoness!"
With every word, Bian Lao Er nearly ground his steel teeth to pieces. Hatred surged from him, and his eyes were bloodshot.
He—he cultivated Round Light Pure Zen, yet he had failed to withstand such crooked, evil methods. He must have let something slip, revealed information detrimental to the Ninth Prince. Damn it!
In truth, there were two main reasons why, as a trusted confidant valued by the Ninth Prince Beitang Shu, he had been granted this secret spiritual art rather than some other martial art.
First, he had once attempted to break through into the Grandmaster Realm, but unfortunately failed. Fortunately, he had possessed miraculous pills and medicines, so he had not suffered any serious damage, though the regret remained.
And this secret spiritual art, Round Light Pure Zen, could stimulate the human body's potential and condense a