Night, at the Red-clad Mansion, a figure, like a ghost, appears on the training field.
A pair of chilling eyes scans the area.
"That traitor Hong Guan who stole the rituals of communicating with Martial Spirit from the Sect, actually escaped to such a remote place, which took me quite a while to find."
"However, no matter how capable you are at running, you can't escape from the palm of the Holy Sect."
The figure speaks in a low voice, with a somewhat hoarse tone, like the friction of metal.
This is an elderly man, beardless, pale-faced, with messy white hair loosely spread on his back.
He sniffed and murmured, "Here's a hint of Hong Guan's scent, very faint, should be left by those often here who were infused with Hong Guan's magic power."
"This person must have come into contact with Hong Guan. If I find this person, I might be able to know Hong Guan's whereabouts."
Having said that, he pushes back the hair from the back of his head to reveal a ghastly pale face.
