Then were Quasi-Saints, even Saints, also mere ants in the eyes of other powerhouses?
Ants, ants, ants.
Forever ants—then what was the meaning of cultivation?
Could it be that one would simply keep striving to cultivate, only to be slain by someone else in some accident and have one's life come to an end?
As he thought, Ye Lin sank into deep self-doubt.
Perhaps cultivation was precisely like this.
The Dao had no end, and the Sword Dao had no endpoint.
No matter how one cultivated, in the eyes of others, one would always be an ant.
As he thought, Ye Lin's thoughts began to drift afar.
At this moment, he was no longer thinking about cultivation, but about the scenery along the path of cultivation.
All the way here, his eyes had held only cultivation, only growing stronger—becoming stronger by any means necessary.
Perhaps he had missed much.
At this moment, Ye Lin perhaps understood something.
His previously wavering Dao heart completely solidified at this moment.
Ye Lin's eyes gradually brightened.
Perhaps he had found his answer.
"I do not know whether the Sword Dao has an endpoint."
"Perhaps it does. That would be the ultimate realm where the sword is me, I am the sword, and sword and Dao become one."
"Perhaps it does not, because the Dao has no end."
"Whether there is an endpoint is not important to me. Perhaps cultivation does not require single-minded cultivation, nor does becoming stronger require single-mindedly pursuing strength."
"None of these are the most crucial thing. The most crucial thing is the very process of seeking."
"The scenery along the way must not be lost either. One must seek both the Dao and the heart."
"I will use the sword in my hand to practice the Dao in my heart."