A spectral form slowly materialized above the woman's decaying remains, quickly coalescing into her living likeness.
Yang An watched silently from the side, afraid to even breathe, let alone make a move.
Although he was merely a bystander, and they couldn't sense his presence, the figures before him were likely from the highest echelons of two great Celestial Sects—he could tell from the tone of their conversation.
In the presence of such beings, even if this was just a memory fragment, he felt an overwhelming pressure.
'Is that the soul of the Bow Lady's original self?'
Yang An just watched the spectral form above the woman's remains in silence.
But what he found strange was that the crescent-shaped mark that had been on the woman's right eye was now gone.
"We're too late. A part of her soul is missing."
The other figure said, a note of dissatisfaction in their voice.
