To cut a long story short, for an entire week starting that day, Lian Youming had to weather a joint assault from Xu Tian and Shorty Xu every day. He could only defend, not attack. In short, he had to find every possible way to evade their attacks, almost exhausting every means at his disposal, constantly pushing himself to the limit. Then he recovered rapidly in a medicinal bath, only to prepare to withstand the next day's successive attacks.
The results were striking, too.
Lian Youming absorbed all the two elders' fighting methods with almost greedy eagerness, honing his footwork, suffering and enjoying himself in equal measure.
With the great battle approaching, he did nothing but train.
Of course, he did not neglect the Seven-Kill Stele either.
But even with Xu Tian's guidance, Lian Youming still felt that something was missing. He could not condense the so-called killing intent, and could only stare blankly at the inscription every day, then grope about without a clue.
He felt that this was somewhat similar to that copy of Journey to the West, mysterious beyond measure. It was as though he knew he possessed a mountain of treasure, yet could barely glimpse the entrance, much less enter, while it continued to tantalize him.
"Could my comprehension really be lacking?"
Even Lian Youming began to doubt himself.
Throughout his journey, despite enduring all manner of hardships and dangers, he had absolutely deserved to be called a prodigy in the Martial Way, with extraordinarily high comprehension.
But now it was as though a basin of cold water had been thrown over him, jolting him awake.
According to the hidden inscription on the stele, the person who left it had reached the realm of Foresight before thirty, then created this extraordinary mental technique to counter the