An Ancestor's Last Words

Ye Tian's bow caused all the oppressive aura the old man had created earlier to vanish completely.

When Ye Tian raised his head, he discovered that the old man was lying back in his reclining chair, tears streaming down his face. His lips moved in a murmur, though no one knew what he was muttering.

"Old Clan Chief?"

Ye Tian had no choice but to call out to him.

Only then did the old man wipe away his tears. The way he looked at Ye Tian was utterly different from before.

If the old man's attitude toward Ye Tian had previously been no more than polite respect, it had now become a natural closeness and reverence.

Ye Tian had no idea that his words had deeply touched the old man's heart.

For the sake of their ancestors' last words, they had guarded this desolate land and lived like primitive savages for thousands of years. How could they possibly feel no resentment? Even though the old man was the chief of the Stone Cave Tribe, one of the five great tribes here, there was still injustice buried deep in his heart.

He did not dare defy his ancestors' last words, nor would he abandon his faith in suppressing demons. Otherwise, he would never have lost both legs in battle against demonic beasts.

Yet all of this needed recognition—not recognition from the five great tribes, but recognition from cultivators of the outside world. They needed proof that everything they had done while living here for hundreds and thousands of years had been meaningful.

Ye Tian was an Immortal Official, and he was willing to bow like this. That filled the tiny sliver of injustice buried in the old clan chief's heart.

With his state of mind brought to perfection, the old clan