Theso-called“technique”wasjustatattered,yellowedscrapofpaper,withnotextatall.
Yet,strangely,Ifeltasenseofdeepfamiliarity.Withoutthinking,Ireachedouttotouchthepaper.
Suddenly,afloodofstrangecharacterssurgedintomymind.Butjustasquickly,theytranslatedintomodern,readabletext:
"TheSolarSparrowBattleTechnique,createdbymyself,isaNinth-TierCultivationArt.
Sinceyoucanreadthesewords,fatehasbroughtustogether.
Fromnowon,thistechniqueshallbecomeyourLife-BoundTechnique."
Life-BoundTechnique?
What’sthat?
Butnooneexplained.Thewordscontinuedtoflashacrossthepagelikeaflowingstream.
Thistime,somethingcriticalappeared:theactualtechnique.
Aminiaturefigureappearedinmymind,demonstratingamartialsequence.Meanwhile,newtextappeared:
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