The Wudang Sword Saint was renowned throughout the world. However, he spent his life in extreme paranoia, always feeling that the world owed him far too much. Perhaps even at the moment of his death, he never understood what he truly wanted. Was a thousand years of evasion really worth it?
However, he would no longer ponder these questions, for he was already a dead man.
Ye Fan now held his Wudang Sword. As for the Sword Saint, he had plunged forever into Clear Lake. In the dark, icy depths, he would be tormented by cold and solitude, atoning for all the lives he had taken.
As for Ye Fan, his heart was undisturbed, without even a flicker of pity. He wouldn't feel the slightest unease even if an extremist like that died a hundred times. On the contrary, he found it deeply satisfying.
