Down by the lake, the ambient Ink began to violently swirl. Only Yang Lujia and Qin Tou noticed this abnormal phenomenon. All the other disciples just passed by and continued their daily lives, proving how formidable Yang Lujia's Grand Script was.
'This kid…'
He turned his gaze to Lin Diyu. The boy was no longer sitting still. Lin Diyu was shivering, his entire face coated in sweat. He clenched his fists so tightly that his knuckles turned stark white.
'This boy was rushing to cultivate the Crimson Battlefield Chronicle I gave him.'
Lin Diyu was attempting to take his first step into the scripture.
To cultivate this level of scripture, the boy found it hard to proceed—even on the first step. However, Yang Lujia knew that to cultivate such a scripture successfully, he did not need anything else but the raw essence of conflict and malice. Seated beside an almost peaceful lake, Lin Diyu had no external conflict to draw upon, so he searched within himself.
