Several days later, at the Cyan Mountain Daoist Temple.
In the courtyard, beneath an ancient tree.
Two aged figures sat facing each other.
One was withered and gaunt, his aura obscure and profound, like a candle about to burn out. This was none other than the Blood Demon Master, Deng Yin.
The other had a plain, simple face, like a common old man from the countryside. He held a verdant Bamboo Staff and was the one who wielded authority in the Holy Sect, Nan Dou Master.
There was no tea on the stone table, only a solidified silence and an intangible weight.
Nan Dou Master's turbid gaze fell upon Deng Yin as he slowly began to speak:
"Have you decided? You're letting him walk that path?
He is the 'Pathfinder' you personally selected.
If he fails, if he falls trying for the [Venerable Dao Foundation]...
When you undergo dissolution and reincarnation, and your Soul Spirit returns, who will be there to guide you back to the Sect and help you resume your path of cultivation?"
