"All methods are interconnected, the movement technique is exquisite, sword control across space, Formation Demon... it may seem varied, but at its core, it's just two words..."
"Divine Sense!"
"Everything this child relies on is his Divine Sense!"
"No..."
Mr. Tu's pupils suddenly contracted, his gaze stern.
Perhaps it's just one word:
God!
...
The next day.
Great Wilderness Prison, in the dungeon.
The sky was already bright, but the prison remained dark, indistinguishable between day and night, nor white and black, people and demons.
Mr. Tu, clad in a pitch-black demon robe, held an ancient bronze box, walked into the eerie and frightening dungeon, and upon lifting his gaze, saw Mo Hua, covered with a small blanket, sleeping warmly and sweetly, his eyelids couldn't help but twitch.
He stood there, holding the box, staring blankly like an "old servant" waiting for the "young master" to wake up and groom himself, but his gaze became increasingly icy.
