Lin Fan was already prepared. Since he didn't have a spirit root, he would have to continue wandering.
"Brother, this is truly regrettable. Your martial arts cultivation is so high, yet you don't have a spirit root. Such a pity, truly such a pity."
The young man standing behind Lin Fan sighed, his expression full of regret.
But judging from his look, it was clear he wasn't comforting him at all; instead, there was a trace of schadenfreude.
"I know you really want to join an Immortal Sect, but reality is so cruel. In a moment, you can watch me carefully. I'll carry your hopes and successfully become a disciple of the Immortal Sect."
"Brother, no more words. It's my turn."
The man puffed out his chest and strode forward confidently. His retreating figure seemed as if bathed in a glowing light—the light of a victor, mixed with the anticipation of reaching the pinnacle of life.
Lin Fan glanced at the guy.
What an arrogant bastard.
Truly made him want to hammer the guy to death.
