Chapter 115.1: Slate of Fate
White Snail described, according to her memory, "He was dashingly handsome, dressed in a blood-red robe."
The old man froze for a moment, then grunted. "Hmph, must be one of those old fools beyond the thousand ranks. Those geezers are far from the Blood Master's side. Hence, they often imitate his attire to appear close to him."
Black Feather suddenly recalled something. "He also said that he was the Blood Master."
"What?!" The old man's clouded eyes burst into light. His frail body erupted with frightening strength as he grabbed Black Feather by the collar. "He said he's the Blood Master?!"
Everyone who had once listened to the Blood Master's sermons revered him deeply, acknowledging him as both father and master. No one dared to impersonate him.
The old man pressed urgently, "What did he look like?"
White Snail and Black Feather had never seen their master so anxious before. White Snail waved her hand, conjuring a water curtain of water. An image began to form, then shattered just as it resurfaced. Some unknown power had prevented her from showing Qi Yuan's face.
The old man's eyes widened. "Could it be... could it truly be my teacher?"
The Blood Master was born sacred. No painting could capture his visage, and no spell could reproduce his appearance.
White Snail froze as well. She remembered as a child, she had admired the Blood Master deeply, and asked her master to show his image. It had been impossible back then as well.
"Is he really the Blood Master?" White Snail said, trembling with excitement. "But the Slate of Fate declared the Blood Master had fallen!"
As one of the supreme treasures, the Slate of Fate was absolute.