A stream of time, fluid as water, appeared beside Lin Jiufeng.
Before his eyes, illusions overlapped and drew him in, letting him witness a moment from many years ago.
Once time settled, Lin Jiufeng found himself in a dark, cavernous hall.
A Daoist sat within the hall, draped in Daoist robes, yet forming a Buddhist hand seal. His expression was grave, his eyes gleamed with ferocity, and he looked like a Rakshasa.
Lin Jiufeng frowned. Why was this person so strange?
The skin of Daoism, the methods of Buddhism, the bones of the Demonic Sect?
The more carefully he looked, the more contradictory this man seemed.
Just as Lin Jiufeng was studying him, the man's body suddenly shuddered. He spat out a mouthful of old blood, and his aura swiftly withered.
After a long while, he wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and muttered, "This damned Grasswood sword energy is so difficult to purge. If I had not cultivated so broadly and dabbled in all Three Teachings and Nine Schools, I might have been slain by the Grass Wood Daoist this time."
Lin Jiufeng's spirits lifted. What had he just heard?
Grasswood Sword Technique?
Grass Wood Daoist?
This man had actually been wounded by the Grasswood Sword Technique?
Lin Jiufeng immediately began observing him more closely.
After coughing up that mouthful of blood, the man was clearly in much better condition. Sitting alone in the dark, cavernous hall, he gazed at the mountains and valleys outside and muttered, "Fortunately, the Grass Wood Daoist was obsessed with entering the Path to Immortality this time. I ambushed him and seized the initiative, allowing me to kill him. Otherwise, in a direct confrontation, I truly would not have been his match."
"Having killed the Grass Wood Daoist and devoured his