So the Land God was actually this powerful?
It had quite a glorious past.
The Land God had once held such an exalted position.
Lin Feng had never expected that.
After all, the familiar Land Gods who often appeared in mythological TV dramas were all little old men relegated to the background.
Old fellows, small in stature and mild-tempered, dragged out to do odd jobs by one god or another.
They always introduced themselves as "this humble old man" or something of the sort.
No one could connect those little old men with a ferocious monster that bridged yin and yang, life and death.
Could they really be one and the same?
Thinking of the Land God's ferocious appearance, Lin Feng grew interested.
He suddenly found himself intrigued by this divine seal.
Could the temple he had seen beside the cave have been a Land God's temple?
Was the presence of that temple the reason...
...those Yin Gods wouldn't approach the area?
If so, things actually made sense.
But then he remembered the fifth-stage Blood God deep in the mountains, bound in chains and dragging along a whole host of Land Gods.
Lin Feng shook his head. That fifth-stage Blood God was far too broken.
He felt it could already qualify as an immortal or a Buddha.
The Land God was better. More down-to-earth.
He chatted enthusiastically with the elderly scholar, drawing on every conversational wingman trick he had ever learned and trying to make each response land just right.
It was like scratching an itch through a boot.
Just enough to make you itch, but never enough to scratch it properly—like taking a goose-feather brush to the soles of your feet, tickling, tickling, tickling!
Never giving you any real relief.
That little routine thoroughly piqued Professor Xu's interest.
Lin