"My lord, can Mo Wan sense it?" asked the blind man.
Zheng Fan nodded. The next moment, his left eye began to be covered in black and white hues. It was an eye reflecting a different emotion, one carrying a kind of indifference towards all living beings.
"It's not far from here. Follow me."
Zheng Fan mounted his horse and rode west, taking the lead, with the others following closely behind.
In fact, Zheng Fan's current perspective was quite peculiar. In his sight, everything was rendered in shades of gray, the only trace of color being a hint of red floating before him.
Is this the residual aura of that soul body?
Soul bodies were likely rare in this world, far rarer than so-called spiritual mages. It was just a stroke of luck; like the proverbial 'bastard' turtle finding its green bean, they were a perfect, if fated, match.
No one could have imagined that Zheng Fan carried a soul body with him—one possessing independent thought, complete self-awareness, and its own skillset.
