How could Old Chen not feel disgusted? How had he managed all these years? He had been relentlessly subjected to a ceaseless barrage of sword energy. Every time he blinked, he saw only swords. It felt like he had been under this onslaught for an eternity!0

For now, the thought of practicing with a sword was not simply just off the table; even its mere sight rattled him. The trauma he endured was immense. He had, for the time being, gotten sick of swords.0

When Wang Xuan tried to check Old Chen's pulse, he was instantly pushed back with a force that would've injured any ordinary man.1

"Old Chen," Wang Xuan asked, "when you say you're 'almost there', are you hinting at a breakthrough?"0

"I'm still not quite there," Old Chen replied with a shake of his head.0

Qing Mu was taken aback. His master had been teetering on the edge of death not long ago, and now he was on the cusp of a breakthrough. Upon a thorough examination, Wang Xuan found that while many of Old Chen's wounds had started healing, the damage to his internal organs had not fully mended.0

Still, he was no longer in mortal peril.0

Bemused, Wang Xuan asked, "Old Chen, as a Grandmaster, what on earth have you been up to all these years? Were you so bent on achieving a breakthrough that you overlooked your own injuries?"0

Old Chen looked at him, his eyes deep and filled with...0