There was no need to mention the dangers along the way. Especially when he spoke of fighting the Pudu Cult's Three Great Dharma Kings in succession—even though Meng Zhao was not one to boast, a trace of pride inevitably colored his words.
Those three Dharma Kings were all experts of the Innate Realm who had traveled far down the martial path. With decades of refined cultivation, even Meng Zhao, wielding the Purple Origin Dragon Body and the Supreme Dharma Gate, had needed a fierce battle to defeat them. That alone said enough.
But if Meng Zhao could defeat such formidable men, did that not make him a master among masters, a powerhouse among powerhouses?
Meng Zhao was unwilling to say much about the Emperor Yu Battle Armor and the Demonic Buddha Sarira, so he concealed those matters. They concerned his trump cards; even before Liang Muqiu and Zhu'er, he was unwilling to reveal the slightest hint.
This had nothing to do with trust, nor with affection. It was simply the caution of a martial artist.
After that, he spoke of returning to Lingwu City, where the Nine Surnames Li Family had invited him for tea and sparring. In a few understated words, he described how he had shattered Li Xingchen's three Mountain Sea Hidden Dragon sword moves, nearly crushing the Martial Dao Heart of this greatest young swordsman and genius of the age.
Zhu'er did not feel much about it, but Liang Muqiu's blade intent rang out with a clang in her heart. Intense battle intent burst from her eyes. Clearly, she was very interested in this young Li Family expert.
When Meng Zhao went on to speak of leaving the teahouse and being ambushed by two dead warriors using an art similar to the Self-Sacrificing Art, Liang Muqiu's expression