Ye Chen,
Several days passed after the chaos in the Frost Wasteland. Ye Chen sat cross-legged in a quiet inn room, his eyes closed in meditation.
Golden dragon qi flowed around his body like threads of flame, repairing his injuries at a pace far beyond ordinary pills.
Having a bloodline is a rare blessing.
When he finally opened his eyes, they gleamed like twin stars. His cultivation had stabilized at the first stage of the Qi Saint realm, after all, he had gained his hands on some profound Dust at Frost Land so making some breakthrough was not out of question.
More importantly, his bloodline no longer slumbered, it pulsed faintly, whispering to him of ancient power that was yet to be awakened, yes, he could feel some disturbance in his sea of consciousness as he had magically comprehended the dragon-lightning fist technique.
"Even fate tried to suppress me… but I will carve my path with my own fists," Ye Chen muttered, clenching his hand.
The typical cringe load.
