That soft sigh faded, and the entire void fell into utter dead silence.
Qin He froze in midair, inwardly crying that things did not look good.
A familiar scene suddenly surged into his mind—the Moth Ancestor's corpse had not yet been burned, yet it had begun to whisper and escaped. Every detail remained vivid before his eyes.
After going to such lengths to sort out the remains, just when everything seemed ready to settle, this cooked duck might well be showing signs of flying away again.
Qin He's fingertips tensed slightly, Lotus Flame quietly gathering strength in his palm, yet he did not dare activate it rashly.
He could clearly sense that the cold restraint blanketing the surrounding Void Domain had completely withdrawn, replaced by a gentle, ancient gaze carrying a trace of bewilderment.
It had no form or substance, yet it precisely locked onto him.
"Burial warrior?"
That low, hoarse ancient voice rang out again. It did not sound like a living creature speaking, but more like the windsand of eternity grinding across a broken stele—slow and weighty, every word laden with the sluggishness of time.
Qin He suppressed the turmoil in his heart and slowly relaxed his taut body before replying softly, "Me?"
The void remained silent for a long time, so long that Qin He thought this lingering remnant thought had already dissipated, before that voice came again.
As though it had not spoken for far too long, every word carried a faint hitch, unfamiliar and slow.
"Yes."
Qin He carefully chose his words. His tone was respectful but not self-abasing as he probed, "Forgive my presumption, Senior, but do you still retain consciousness, or are you... merely a remnant thought left behind?"
This pause lasted even longer, as though it crossed the cracks of a thousand