On Xuanwu Mountain.
Zhong Shenxiu refined the talisman and then glanced at the other Great Saints, who all wore conflicted expressions.
Apparently, even if the item bestowed by the Dao Ancestor could be worn away, who would dare to do so?
'Indeed... I can't appear too out of place.'
'Nowadays, Fang Lang is also a hidden trump card.'
He thought for a moment, mana surging, and directly forged a talisman within his sea of consciousness:
[Name: Fang Lang]
[Cultivation: Great Saint]
[Battle Merits: 0]
[Task: Awaiting assignment]
...
Though it was fabricated by him, it was more real than gold, the kind displayed even on the [Zhengyi Dao Register].
Even if it were shown to the master of the gate, he would acknowledge it.
