This was now his only opportunity.
...…
...…
Martial Pavilion Ancestral Land.
Within the grand main hall symbolizing the very core of the Martial Path.
Jun Huang sat cross-legged on the ground, his expression calm, his face as cold as mysterious ice.
The dark gold battle robe, symbolizing the identity of the Martial Ancestor, still shone brightly, but the body it covered was full of intersecting cracks, a manifestation of the nearly shattered Dao Seed.
"Hoo..."
He suddenly let out a muffled groan, gasping heavily, veins bulging on his forehead as he felt a splitting headache.
It was not just the pain from the Dao injury, but also because a portion of his memory had been forcibly erased, leaving a blank space in his mind.
He vaguely remembered a burning silhouette, the terrifying celestial light from the future, but concrete details about that figure seemed wiped away, leaving only a blurry image.
