The Taoist priest, who had been standing still, naturally broke through a certain barrier.
From then on, the human race gained another supreme powerhouse, Xiaoyao.
The black-clad swordsman glanced at the Taoist priest, a slight smile playing on his lips, shook his head, and said earnestly,
"My assessment is far inferior to that of Wuhen."
The Taoist stood there like a statue, silent for a moment, then nodded and said...
"really."
He always speaks the truth.
Xiaoyao asked himself, "If I were to fight the most powerful demon god, I could not achieve such a flawless victory."
To be precise, this is something only Wuhen can do.
The reason is simple.
Because He leaves no trace.
The black-clad swordsman sighed, shook his head, and said helplessly.
"Like a wooden stake, so boring. I hope the next generation can be more interesting, otherwise there's no one to talk to, it's so dull."
With that, He ignored the newly promoted human supreme expert, and didn't even congratulate him, before turning and leaving.
As he walked, Wuhen opened a jar of wine and drank it in large gulps. The wine was as red as blood.
The black-clad swordsman drank blood wine, laughed loudly to the sky, and departed.
"An enemy that can never be completely killed..."
Not long after the black-clad swordsman left, the Taoist priest raised a finger, and a butterfly landed on it.
Xiaoyao looked at the butterfly on his fingertip, thought for a moment, and then spoke.
"Go and find someone interesting."
There wasn't much He could do for Wuhen.
Since we owe the other party a life, we should do what we can.
The butterfly was about to flap its wings and take off, but it seemed to sense something and stopped.
The Taoist withdrew his fingers and silently calculated in his mind.
"Let's look again in thirty-six years."
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