A mysterious girl suddenly appeared and just as quickly vanished, her strength seemingly unfathomable.
Qin Hao felt as if he had been living a dream, which faded upon waking, with every trace of the girl's existence gone.
However, Qin Hao knew it wasn't a dream, because a faint scent remained here, a delicate fragrance.
"The Martial Saint girl, I wonder if the martial artists of this world would be so ashamed of their own existence that they would contemplate suicide upon learning of her," Qin Hao mused.
But when he thought about the gap between his own strength and that of the girl's, Qin Hao was somewhat at a loss for words.
Even he blushed at the thought—his strength was two whole levels below hers.
Of course, for the average martial artist, bridging these two major levels was as difficult as ascending to the heavens.
He shook his head to clear these thoughts from his mind.
Even for Qin Hao, ascending to the status of Martial Saint seemed like a distant dream.
