It was no secret that the average Nascent Soul cultivator could live up to 1,000 years. Daoist Three Swords, however, had defied the odds, surpassing 1,500 years.
Riley could only assume it was due to a combination of longevity pills, forbidden techniques, and sheer force of will.
Yet even with these measures, it was clear that time was running out for the old master.
His body bore the unmistakable signs of decay, and the rampant death qi swirling in the room was a testament to his waning vitality.
Still, Riley knew better than to underestimate him.
The man had survived far longer than most and had carved his name into the annals of history for a reason.
A cornered tiger, no matter how old or frail, was still a tiger.
"Elder Riley Mason," Daoist Three Swords rasped, his voice brittle yet laced with an undeniable sharpness.
His sunken eyes met Riley's with surprising intensity.
