"Primordial Spirit secret art, Primordial Spirit secret art."
Ye Lin sat cross-legged where he was, muttering nonstop.
He now had one enormous weakness: his Primordial Spirit.
His Primordial Spirit was his greatest weakness.
What he urgently needed now was a powerful Primordial Spirit secret art.
He absolutely could not allow his Primordial Spirit to become his greatest opening, because that opening was fatal.
Yet he was not truly invincible at present. The truly excellent Primordial Spirit secret arts were all held by those major powers—he could hardly just charge straight into one of them, could he?
After all, he had not yet become arrogant to that extent.
Although he possessed the strength to slay a ninth-layer Golden Immortal, none of those deeply rooted major powers was simple.
If he went in, he would most likely come to grief.
If his cultivation were at the ninth layer of Golden Immortal, he probably would have already charged in long ago.
Still, this gave Ye Lin an idea.
The Eight Ancient Clans—major powers whose ancestors had once produced Primordial Unity Golden Immortals—should possess Primordial Spirit secret arts that were at least decent, shouldn't they?
Those damned, deeply rooted major powers—once his cultivation reached Primordial Unity Golden Immortal, he had to pay them visits in turn and rob them one by one.
At this point, Ye Lin began to develop something of a hatred for the rich.
He was starting to find those major powers unpleasant to look at as well.
What use was a deep foundation?
Only something that could be taken and used by him was truly the best.
Meanwhile, after bidding Ye Lin farewell, Wang Sheng rushed without pause toward the Royal Clan.
Upon arriving in the Starry Sky, he looked around. Only after confirming that no one was present did