Ye Zhong's gauntleted hands tightened around the crumpled can as confusion and clarity clashed in his eyes. It was as if Lin Mo's question had stirred a buried ember within his fragmented memories.
The foreign energy cloaking him pulsed erratically, like a heartbeat caught between life and death.
"Him…" Ye Zhong's voice faltered, each word a struggle against the Tower's binding. "No… challenger. He… forged… paths. Gave… power. Then… war came… chasing after him. Martial World… shattered. I… fell."
His pale lips twisted, baring a hint of teeth.
