A Dao Seed Realm martial arts practitioner cannot defeat one in the Longevity Realm.
Tang Wanzhou couldn’t do it.
Neither could the true successors of the Ancient Sect nor the Son of Heaven’s disciples.
The best they could do was to hold even, even against the weakest in the Longevity Realm.
Of course, with the help of Heaven-defying heavy weapons or special methods not forged from their own cultivation, it might still be possible to try.
Although Xue Yucai had only broken through the realm a month ago, he was by no means the weakest Saint Spirit Sense Master in that stage.
Li Weiyi said, “I understand your desire to take back the Silver Sea of the Blood Pool. But if I break through to the Saint Spirit Sense Master realm, you won’t have any chance of winning.”
“It’s not so certain,” Xue Yucai replied.
Li Weiyi said, “I’m giving you the chance! I only hope that no matter the result of this battle, win or lose, we no longer carry grudges against each other. Coming to the Dongxu Camp was for cultivation, for honing myself, and to deal with the life and death threat from the realm of the dead. I don’t want to constantly be on guard against the sentinels of the Spirit Sense Guard—that’s just exhausting.”
Anyone listening could hear the confidence and pride in Li Weiyi’s tone.
Some thought he was arrogant, overly confident.
Others admired that sharp spirit.
Only Taishi Yu knew that every word from Li Weiyi came from his heart, without a hint of arrogance.
He was truly giving Xue Yucai a chance.
Qing Zijin’s eyes cooled, the sharpness fading away, and she no longer looked at Li Weiyi or Xue Yucai.
She quietly walked toward the depths of the camp, followed by a dozen or so dry corpses.
