"My master suffered from a rare and serious illness. He searched the entire world for all the Treasure medicinal plants and exhausted every possible method. He even went so far as to self-mutilate, grinding his bones and blood to dust, and sealing his Primordial Spirit Soul, but to no avail in the end."
"The illness was truly incurable."
"Eventually, my master became utterly 'bedridden'."
"However, at my master's Realm, even though he was bedridden, time did not diminish by even a fraction."
"He remained eternal, indestructible, and everlasting."
"For him, time was still like the flick of a finger, where a blink would dry up several rivers of light-years, and eons would turn to silence and extinction."
"Yet, that illness plunged my master into an unprecedented agony."
"Every second, every minute, every day was torture."
"Ultimately."
"My master killed himself."
"What the master did not expect was that the illness was too inconceivable."
