In the old man's hand, he held a sword.
But rather than a weapon, he used it as a crutch leaning heavily on it as he dragged himself forward, the blade scraping faintly against the ground with each step.
Yet despite his frail appearance, the dense death qi surrounding him churned violently, as if drawn to his very existence.
The death qi was so abundant that even Lin Feng was surprised this old man was still drawing breath.
It seemed he was only standing there because of his great dao heart and sheer, extreme will.
This was one very stubborn old man.
"You've got quite the sharp tongue, boy…"
The old man's lips stretched into a crooked grin as he let out another series of dry, broken chuckles.
"Hak… hak…"
His gaze shifted, landing briefly on Shi Hanfeng.
"Well now… who have you brought with you this time, Hanfeng?"
There was a strange familiarity in his tone, as though the two had known each other for far too long.
