192: Chapter 192 The Old Madman: I'll Teach You How to Fight

Old Maniac did not speak, only staring blankly ahead.

"Your Senior Brother, your Junior Sister, your teachers, your fellow disciples—they fought with their lives so you could live, not so you could wait for death here guarding ruins." Ancient Kirin Emperor's voice became solemn. "They hoped you would live well, see this world for them, and protect the things that should be protected."

Old Maniac's eyes twitched slightly.

"Six thousand years. You've guarded this place for six thousand years. That's enough." Ancient Kirin Emperor stood up. "It's time to go out."

He reached out and placed his hand on the top of Old Maniac's head.

A gentle power surged from his palm, entering Old Maniac's glabella.

That was the item Chu Tianjiao had given him—a wisp of pure Divine Sense power, capable of repairing a damaged Divine Soul and awakening a lost consciousness.

Old Maniac's body jolted violently.

His eyes began to glow, the light growing brighter and more intense. His gaze shifted from hollow to clear, from confused to sharp. Those chaotic memories and fragmented scenes began to reassemble in his mind.

He saw his Senior Brother's smiling face, his Junior Sister's feigned anger, his teachers' instructions, and his fellow disciples' playfulness.

He saw the glory of the Tianxuan Holy Land and its destruction.

He saw those familiar faces falling one by one, disappearing one by one.

Tears slid down from his eyes.

Not tears of pain, not tears of despair, but—tears of relief.

Six thousand years. He had finally woken up from that nightmare.

Ancient Kirin Emperor withdrew his hand, took a step back, and watched the old man slowly standing up.

Old Maniac stood up and looked down at his hands. They were as thin as firewood, covered in callouses and scars. But at this moment, those hands were glowing slightly; it was his power, dormant for many years, awakening.

He looked up at Ancient Kirin Emperor.

"Who are you?"

His voice was still raspy, but it was no longer an indistinct murmur; it was clear and powerful.

Ancient Kirin Emperor looked at him, a trace of a smile appearing at the corners of his mouth.

"Someone who has come to ask for your help."

Old Maniac fell silent for a moment, then spoke.

"Help with what?"

Ancient Kirin Emperor did not answer directly, but instead asked, "Do you know what era it is now?"

Old Maniac shook his head. "I've been mad for six thousand years. I no longer recognize the world outside."

"Golden Age," Ancient Kirin Emperor said. "The Azure Emperor dao marks have dissipated, the Great Dao of Heaven and Earth has revived, and countless Prodigies have risen to compete for the imperial throne. This is the best of times, and the cruelest."

Old Maniac listened without speaking.

Ancient Kirin Emperor continued, "There is a youth named Ye Fan. He has the Ancient Desolate Saint Body and is at the Peak of the Dragon Transformation Realm. A few days ago, he killed Wang Teng of the Northern Plains' Wang Family. That Wang Teng was the Reincarnation of an Ancient Emperor, at the Eighth Heaven of the Half-step Great Power realm, with one foot in the Second Heaven of the Immortal Platform, yet he was killed by a single punch from Ye Fan."

A flash of surprise crossed Old Maniac's eyes.

"Ancient Desolate Saint Body? There's still an Ancient Desolate Saint Body in this era?"

"Yes," Ancient Kirin Emperor nodded. "And a very strong one. But he lacks some things—explosive Cultivation Technique, and a protector."

Old Maniac understood.

"You want me to teach him?"

Ancient Kirin Emperor nodded. "The Legacy of the Tianxuan Holy Land is not weak, especially your Secret Technique, which are perfect for him. Moreover, since he killed Wang Teng, the Wang Family will not let the matter rest. He needs someone to protect him."

Old Maniac remained silent for a long time.

He looked at the ruins beneath his feet, the crumbling walls, and the weathered stone statues. Six thousand years. He had guarded this place for six thousand years. Now, it was finally time to leave.

"Good," he spoke, his voice low and firm.

"I'll go."

Ancient Kirin Emperor looked at him, a flash of gratification in his eyes.

"Then let's go."

He turned and walked out of the ruins.

Old Maniac followed behind him, walking out of the stone hall he had guarded for six thousand years and the ruins he had watched over for six thousand years.

Sunlight spilled over him, feeling warm.

He looked up at the sky, at the sun he hadn't seen in a long time, a complex light flashing in his eyes.

Six thousand years.

He had finally come out.

Ji Family.

Ye Fan lay in bed for three days before finally waking up.

His right hand had mostly recovered, and the deep palm print on his chest had faded significantly. The power of those four drops of essence blood was indeed astonishing; not only had it healed his injuries, but his cultivation also showed signs of an imminent Breakthrough.

He sat up, moved his arm, and felt the surging Qi within his body, a smile appearing on his face.

Wang Teng was dead.

He had won.

Although the process was difficult and he had almost lost his life, he had won.

"Ye Fan, you're awake?"

Ji Ziyue's voice came from outside the door, tinged with a hint of surprise.

Ye Fan turned to look and saw Ji Ziyue carrying a bowl of medicinal soup as she pushed the door open and walked in. Her face was smiling, but there was still a trace of undried tears in her eyes.

"Were you crying?" Ye Fan asked.

Ji Ziyue's face turned slightly red, and she turned away. "Who's crying? I didn't cry."

Seeing her like that, Ye Fan couldn't help but laugh.

"Thank you."

Ji Ziyue placed the medicinal soup by the bed and looked at him. "Thank you for what?"

"Thank you for watching over me," Ye Fan said.

Ji Ziyue's face turned even redder. She opened her mouth to say something but found she couldn't say anything at all. She could only stomp her foot and run out.

Ye Fan watched her back, the smile on his face deepening.

Just then, Ji Haoyue's voice came from outside the door.

"Ye Fan, get up. A guest has arrived."

Ye Fan was slightly taken aback. "A guest? Who?"

Ji Haoyue pushed the door open and looked at him, a trace of complexity in his eyes.

"An old man. He says he's from the Tianxuan Holy Land."

Ye Fan was stunned.

Tianxuan Holy Land? The Tianxuan Holy Land that was destroyed six thousand years ago?

He quickly got up and followed Ji Haoyue out of the room.

In the Ji Family main hall, a white-haired old man was sitting in a guest seat, holding a cup of tea, his expression calm.

He wore a faded white Daoist robe, his face was withered, but his eyes were exceptionally clear. He emitted no aura at all, appearing just like an ordinary old man.

But Ye Fan could tell at a glance that this old man was not simple.

The feeling was strange and inexplicable, but he could sense that an extremely terrifying power was hidden within this old man's body.

The Holy Lord of the Ji Family sat in the main seat, looking at the old man with a hint of solemnity in his eyes.

He recognized this person.

A survivor of the Tianxuan Holy Land, the peerless Genius who had gone mad six thousand years ago.

Now, he was awake.

"You are Ye Fan?" The old man looked up at Ye Fan as he entered the hall.

Ye Fan nodded. "Junior Ye Fan greets Senior."

The old man looked at him, sizing him up, and then nodded.

"Not bad. Ancient Desolate Saint Body, Peak of the Dragon Transformation Realm, solid Foundation, and impressive combat strength. To be able to kill Wang Teng, you indeed have some skill."

Ye Fan did not speak, simply watching him quietly.

The old man put down his teacup and stood up.

"From today on, I will teach you."

Ye Fan was stunned. "Teach what?"

"Teach you how to fight," the old man said. "Your Heavenly Emperor Fist is good, but it's too crude. You need better Cultivation Technique and stronger explosive power. I will teach you the Secret Technique of the Tianxuan Holy Land, allowing you to go further on the imperial road."

Ye Fan looked at him, fell silent for a moment, and then asked, "Why?"

The old man looked at him, a trace of complexity in his eyes.

"Because someone asked me to."

Ye Fan's brow furrowed slightly. "Who?"

The old man did not answer. He simply turned and walked out of the hall.

"Starting tomorrow, meet me at the Martial Arts Arena."

With that, he disappeared outside the hall.

Ye Fan stood in place, watching the disappearing figure, a complex set of emotions rising in his heart.

Someone asked this Senior to come and teach him?

Who?

The existence behind that mirror? Or those great figures he had never met?

He didn't know.

But he knew that his path had only just begun.