Wenren Tianming felt a stinging pain at his neck.
He gently touched it with his hand, and a little blood trickled down.
There was an extremely small wound on his neck.
"Is this a warning?" He looked solemnly at Xu Zimo.
The splendor of that sword strike still flashed through his mind.
Xu Zimo was right. If he had not shown mercy, he would not merely have suffered such a small wound.
"Who exactly are you?" Wenren Tianming asked as he looked at Xu Zimo.
"Don't you already know?" Xu Zimo replied with a faint smile.
"Perhaps you would find it easier to accept if I said I am the current Holy Son of the True Martial Sacred Sect."
Wenren Tianming fell silent. He had always been extremely confident in his own talent.
Even those peerless geniuses of the Central Continent were merely in the Imperial Meridian Realm.
He had believed that, compared to those geniuses, he was qualified to contend for the Heavenly Mandate in this life.
Yet just now, that single ordinary sword strike had shattered all his pride.
He realized that he had not even possessed the ability to resist.
It was as though an uncrossable chasm lay between the two of them.
"I will keep my promise," Wenren Tianming replied after drawing a deep breath.
Xu Zimo nodded and said nothing more. He left the lake and continued leisurely wandering around Wenren Manor.
At dusk, the setting sun painted half the sky.
The evening glow shone at the edge of the horizon, while clouds forged from fire drifted through the air.
On distant branches, several lone birds shook loose the leaves and spread their wings toward the far distance.
Xu Zimo had originally planned to return to the small courtyard.
Halfway there, a little girl