A formidable being like the Buddhist Monk, even after death, still possessed an aura and lingering battle instincts powerful enough to make Lu Xiaotian, a newly advanced Golden Core Middle Stage cultivator, struggle to take a step. That alone showed how terrifying he was. The Buddhist Monk's kasaya looked far from ordinary, too. A faint glow flowed across it, and even after thousands of years of being scorched by the Fanluo Spiritfire, it remained intact. Still, it bore several tattered places, along with neat gashes cut by Sword Qi. They looked to have been left behind during his great battle with the Misty Venerable all those years ago. Lu Xiaotian wondered just how powerful the Misty Venerable must have been back then.
Aside from being somewhat withered, the Buddhist Monk's face looked much like an ordinary person's. Yet no one would mistake such a domineering, contemptuous figure for an ordinary man. The only thing that seemed strange was the emptiness in his eyes, utterly devoid of life. It seemed Luo Zhongting had been right: the Buddhist Monk's Primordial Spirit had perished, leaving behind nothing but a walking corpse.
Even so, when those hollow eyes swept over him, Lu Xiaotian still felt his heart leap into his throat.
The Buddhist Monk slapped one hand against the edge of the stone pool, and his whole body shot into the air. He threw back his head and roared. An overwhelming tide of resentment surged up like a raging sea, with waves soaring skyward. Lu Xiaotian could feel the Buddhist Monk's hatred for the Misty Venerable in that resentment.
As if he had sensed Lu Xiaotian's covetous gaze, the Buddhist Monk looked down at him from above. His eyes were empty, containing nothing at all. He reached out, about to strike Lu Xiaotian with