Meanwhile, in the upper realm, Fang Yuan rose from the cool river, water streaming off his body as he began to dress.
Having mastered the latest form of the Tyrant Light Sword: the Spatial Cut.
It was as if his control over the technique had reached a new height.
The Tyrant Light Sword martial technique had even advanced to Saint high-grade.
Once fully dressed, he set off toward the slums.
Except… it no longer felt like one.
The crooked alleys had been cleared, the filth pushed aside, and crude shelters had slowly taken on the shape of proper homes.
What once reeked of desperation now carried the faint rhythm of life. At a glance, instead of a worn down, smelly slum for the beggars, the place resembled a small, growing town.
Still, if he continued on with the slum as he already is now, it won't be long until he finally run out of silver to spend.
It wasn't as if his silver was infinite either...
Silver flowed out far faster than it came in.
