An Arrow to the Chrysanthemum, Blade Intent Condenses a Tiger, Baleful Aura Soars to the Heavens
The sight before him was so horrifying that Dog Second, in a daze, recalled an old memory he had long since cast to the back of his mind.
Many years ago.
He had still been nothing more than a wild dog that had just gained intelligence, scratching out a living in the mountains.
That day, luck had been on his side. He ran into a lone scholar traveling by himself and swallowed him in two or three bites to fill his belly.
With his stomach full and nothing better to do, he rummaged through the baggage the scholar had left behind.
Aside from a few tattered clothes, there were several booklets bleached pale from washing.
He flipped through a couple pages of the other books, finding them incomprehensible nonsense, as bland as chewing wax.
But one book among them had a cover so worn it was nearly ruined, bearing the title Records of Strange Tales from the Martial World.
He had not known many words back then, but by guessing his way through, he still found it engrossing.
The book contained nothing more than strange tales and curious happenings from the martial world.
Which sect had produced a prodigy, which mountain had spawned a fiend—it was all written rather entertainingly.
Yet there was one sentence in it that he remembered to this day.
The book said: When roaming the martial world, there are three kinds of people you must never provoke.
Monks, women, and children.
The book explained that in this world, demons and monsters ran rampant, and the people could barely survive.
Any monk who dared travel alone in such a world was either a Gao monk who had attained enlightenment or a