In the outskirts of Fenglin City Region, which resembled the shape of a ghastly specter, Xiang Qian remained silent for a long time.
He finally understood why Jiang Wang had brought him here.
It was to unveil his own scars, to expose the bloody pain to him. To let him know that he wasn't the only one who had experienced despair in this world, that he wasn't the only one who had been through it.
He had once gazed into the abyss, but someone else was in the abyss.
When he stopped in his tracks, wallowing in self-pity.
And yet there was someone, who still chose to move forward.
For a long time, his master was his god, his faith, and his support.
When that battle abruptly ended, the master—invincible in testing his swordsmanship across the world, unbeatable in the Dongzhen realm—died before him.
His deity had fallen, his firmament had collapsed.
From that confident young sword cultivator, he had never recovered, sinking into the decay he now found himself in.
