Time galloped by, and in the blink of an eye, a millennium had passed.
Lotus Sacred Ground, Sacramental Mountain.
Milton Cheney and the white-robed elder sat cross-legged facing each other, with a wooden chessboard floating in mid-air between them.
On the chessboard, black and white pieces intertwined like two massive dragons in battle.
However, even a novice could see that the black pieces had little chance at this point.
Encircled by the white dragon's entrapment, the black pieces were running out of breath.
Milton Cheney, handling the black pieces, was indeed about to lose this game.
After all, he was far from a match in chess skills compared to the Lotus Saint Master, who had cycled through the Reincarnation Cycle countless times.
"You've decided to condense the Dao Fruit?"
