Heavenly Tyrant Martial Soul

The bloodthirsty knife drew a cold trajectory in the air, with an indescribable sense of oppression, and hit the black-haired old man directly. At this moment, the whole hall seemed to be shrouded by this knife, and the atmosphere was extremely tense.

However, the old man's face, which was originally as calm as a mountain, suddenly changed color at this moment, as if touched by some invisible force, and a trace of imperceptible horror flashed in his eyes.

His black hair, under the dumbfounded gaze of everyone, twisted and changed strangely, and finally turned into the appearance of a graceful woman. The woman's face was blurred, and she was surrounded by a cold and mysterious aura.

She slowly stretched out a hand as dark as night, with slender fingers, but the nails on the fingertips were so sharp that they seemed to tear the void, flashing a heart-pounding cold light, with an irresistible force, fiercely slapping the extremely sharp knife light.

The blade traced a brilliant track in the air, like a meteor across the night sky, but the moment it touched the dark palm, it seemed to encounter an invisible barrier, making a crisp "crack" sound, and then dissipated into nothingness like foam.

The old man was also hit back by this, and his body staggered back involuntarily, sliding for several meters before he could barely stabilize his body. He stood there, his face uncertain, sometimes pale as paper, sometimes with a sickly blush. Obviously, this attack was also a big burden for him.

Ling Xiao stood in place and did not continue to pursue. The long sword in his hand fell gently, and the tip of the sword lightly touched the ground, emitting a faint cold light, which complemented his extraordinary temperament.

This sword was enough to prove his unfathomable strength, and there was no need to make any more unnecessary demonstrations. He knew that if he went further, he might really touch some unspeakable boundaries and offend some people who didn't need to be enemies.

The old man in front of him, although he might be unattainable in the eyes of ordinary people, was just a warrior in the Condensation Realm in Ling Xiao's eyes. This realm was too small for him.

Defeating the opponent was just a piece of cake for him; even taking his life was as easy as pie, just a thought.

The old man stared at Ling Xiao, his eyes full of complex emotions, and his feelings were beyond words. "You are really a hero in your youth. With your strength, I have been in the martial arts world for decades, and I have never seen a few young people who can match you. I am afraid that I have nothing to teach you with what I have learned."

His voice was filled with some sincere admiration, some appreciation for young talents, and also mixed with a trace of regret that was difficult to conceal.

The old man's eyes flashed with shock and appreciation, which was a recognition of genius and a relief that the younger generation could surpass himself.

However, this appreciation was mixed with a trace of indescribable regret, as if he was regretting that he could not personally guide such a young man with unlimited potential.

If he could be lucky enough to accept such a person as a disciple, it would be an inestimable wealth for his sect and his future. But unfortunately, the old man knew that his strength and realm were far behind Ling Xiao, and he knew that he was not qualified to be Ling Xiao's master.

Ling Xiao stood there quietly, his eyes firm and deep. He did not get carried away by the old man's praise, nor was he disappointed because the old man claimed that he could not teach him.

He just waited silently, because he knew that a warrior in the Condensation Realm could never be the strongest even in this magic building. His goal was to explore a higher realm and pursue stronger power.

Sure enough, after a moment of silence, the old man sighed, with a hint of determination and expectation in his voice, "Forget it, come with me, I will take you to see my master!" His tone revealed an indescribable solemnity and awe, as if he was about to lead Ling Xiao to a whole new world.

As he said that, the old man turned around and walked out of the hall with steady steps. His back looked lonely and firm, as if he was showing Ling Xiao a silent persistence and belief.

Seeing this, Ling Xiao hurriedly followed him, his steps were brisk and powerful, and his eyes flashed with curiosity and desire for the unknown. He knew that at this moment, he was one step closer to his goal.

The old man led Ling Xiao through an unusually dense bamboo forest.

This bamboo forest was different from ordinary places. Every bamboo was shiny black, as if it was stained by the night. Even the bamboo leaves and the surrounding flowers and plants showed an ominous black color, exuding a strange and deep breath, which made people feel cold involuntarily, but inexplicably attracted to it.

The sun shines through the dense bamboo leaves, casting mottled light and shadows, adding a sense of mystery to this dark bamboo forest.

Deep in the bamboo forest, there is an extremely exquisite attic hidden. It seems to be a building that has come out of an ancient legend. Every detail reveals ingenuity, but it is also smart and evil, forming a sharp and harmonious contrast with the surrounding scenery.

The eaves of the attic are slightly upturned, as if they are about to break through the sky, and the patterns carved on the beams and columns vaguely reveal a magical charm, which makes people feel awe.

Just under this attic, a young man is sitting on a bluestone, his fingers gently jumping on the strings of the guqin, playing a melodious and slightly sad melody. The sound of the guqin is like the sound of spring water, and it is like the wind blowing through the bamboo forest, fresh and refined, and it hits people's hearts directly.

When Ling Xiao first saw the young man, he couldn't help but secretly admire him: "What a master!" His clothes were simple but elegant, his face was handsome, and his eyes revealed a kind of indifference and depth, as if the whole world had been left out of his mind.

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In Ling Xiao's cognition, anyone who plays the zither like this and looks so young must have extraordinary cultivation and knowledge, and must be a peerless master without a doubt! He stood quietly aside, not daring to disturb this rare tranquility and harmony.

The old man slowly approached with Ling Xiao, bowed slightly to the young man, and his tone was a bit respectful and expectant: "Brother, is the master here?" The old man's words revealed his deep respect and longing for the unknown master.

Hearing this, the young man slowly put down the guqin in his hand, his movements were elegant and calm. He shook his head slightly, his eyes revealing a trace of confusion and helplessness: "I don't know where he went, what happened, is there something wrong?" His voice was clear and magnetic, as if it could penetrate people's hearts and reach the depths of their souls.

The old man nodded slightly, his eyes flashing with praise and expectation. He turned his head and looked at Ling Xiao standing beside him, his eyes full of appreciation and recognition.

Those eyes were full of expectations and praise for Ling Xiao, as if he was looking at his precious apprentice. (End of this chapter)