The Martial Ancestor's gaze lingered on Yu Xuan, his tone deepening heavy with meaning.
"Child," he said quietly, "this… is me from my younger days. You are to defeat it. But believe me, even with your astonishing abilities, I think this may well be impossible."
A low hum filled the air as the golden-winged figure's aura pulsed, distorting space itself.
Yet the Ancestor's expression carried something more than just warning — it carried thought, hesitation, and perhaps… concern.
The potential Yu Xuan displayed had already gone beyond every disciple he had ever seen. It was as if Heaven itself favored this boy and that too like on a massive level.
'If he inherits my path, he will soar, but that same brilliance will draw too many eyes.' the Martial Ancestor thought.
Too many enemies, simply because, he had too many enemies himself who seek his downfall.
