"An 80% chance?" Ji Ning stared at the black-armored man. For a subordinate to dare claim an 80% chance of being correct meant that he was almost virtually certain; he had to factor in a bit of modesty, after all. "Go ahead and tell me."
"Palace Lord, please take a look." The black-armored man produced a scroll in his hands which he offered respectfully to Ning. Ning waved his hand, causing the scroll to fly over towards him.
Ning unfurled the scroll, which was covered with dense clusters of tiny characters. These were the last words of a free-spirited Daolord whose lifespan was coming to an end. It included some of his supreme legacies as well as the secrets he knew about.
