The old man from the Thousand Divination Tower slowly closed his eyes, his lips repeating a name, "Zhou Cunzhong, Zhou Cunzhong…Zhou Cunzhong…"
Despite being on the brink of death, their will to live remained undeterred. Their desire to stir up a final grand spectacle in their twilight moments was unquenchable.
The old man's face drained of color, making him appear almost spectral. Moments later, his eyes snapped open and he spat out another mouthful of blood onto the ground.
Splatter!
This time, however, the blood didn't form any discernible pattern.
"How is it that I'm unaware of this individual?" he mused aloud, giving Shao Mo's corpse a swift kick. "Could he have died just now? Could that be why I failed?"
