"He is reviving. Did you know that?" Yelokiji asked the old man softly.
A sharp gleam flashed in the old man's eyes.
"I know," the old man said blandly.
"Why?" Yelokiji could not understand what the old man was trying to do. The victor of the Previous Epoch was now in such a wretched state.
Moreover, an aura of decay emanated from him. That was clearly abnormal.
It was highly likely that something had gone wrong with the old man.
"It cannot be stopped," the old man said with a hint of bitterness.
Yelokiji's pupils contracted as he looked at the old man.
He finally understood why the old man carried that decayed aura. There was a serious problem with the old man's heart.
Perhaps he had learned something he should never have known.
"For some things, ignorance is bliss," the old man said softly, looking at Yelokiji.
"What if I want to know?" Yelokiji asked, looking at the old man.
"It is not a good thing," the old man said indifferently.
Yelokiji simply stared at him.
"Since that is the case, this has been passed down through my clan since ancient times," the old man said evenly.
A portrait appeared before Yelokiji.
Within the portrait lay endless mountains of corpses and seas of blood. A man with long black hair, clad in a blood-red robe embroidered with blood dragons, was slaughtering a race somewhat similar to the Dao Gu Clan.
The portrait alone plunged Yelokiji into an endless bloodshed.
"This is?" Yelokiji looked at the old man.
"An ancestor of that clan," the old man said softly.
Yelokiji looked at the old man.
"We can only be considered mixed-blood descendants who have survived until today," the old man said quietly.
The pure-blooded members of his clan had long been