We can totally be the guides in your life, can't we?

The young disciples gathered in the innermost circle instantly went deathly pale. The weakest among them even retreated two steps without meaning to, their backs bumping into their companions.

Though those in the rear did not go pale, their expressions froze.

A six-ring Soul Emperor—and one with a hundred-thousand-year soul ring.

One had to know that among the younger generation of the Clear Sky Sect, even the oldest had only just touched the threshold of Soul King. Yet the person before them, whom they had cursed as a bastard, was not only of their generation, he was nearly a decade younger than them.

The elders' expressions also turned extremely ugly.

They had lived seventy or eighty years. What kind of genius had they not seen? But a Soul Emperor with a hundred-thousand-year soul ring at this age—they truly had never seen one.

The Seventh Elder's brows were tightly furrowed, his gaze fixed hard on that red soul ring, his lips pressed into a thin line.

"Worthy?"

He questioned who had made the first move back then—his father, or Spirit Hall.

When they were bullied all the way to their doorstep, was his father supposed to kneel and beg for mercy?

One had to know that his mother was already dead!

When his mother died, what had the people present done?

Besides shrinking back and running away, forcing his father to leave the sect, what else had they done?

"Number One Sect Under Heaven? Are you worthy of that title? Do you even qualify?"

"Even after my father left the sect, he still worked hard outside to eliminate hidden dangers. And you? You hid here like turtles with your heads pulled in, waiting for the enemy outside to grow strong enough to wipe you out. Look at yourselves—besides running your mouths,