Damn, this guy was crazy. This lock has ten thousand layers, why even bother leaving this sword art to his descendants? Tianming complained to himself. Although he had yet to try, he knew his chances were really small. He understood, of course—this ancestor didn’t want outsiders to obtain his legacy through destruction or artificial means. It was meant only for descendants of the Lin Clan that could comprehend his sword. Because of that, the lock he put in place was aimed at the strong, or even those at the same level as him to prevent it from being stolen.

"Who could be good enough?" Tianming didn’t dare try for the time being. Withdrawing his black arm, he turned and asked Lin Xiaogui, who was still excited, "Who left this stele? What were his or her unique qualities and weaknesses?" He wanted to...