While Tian Wentao was inwardly sighing that it was a pity, Chai Zhihong beside him had not given up entirely. His Divine Sense shrouded the four directions and eight sides, and even the Bronze Mirror outside the Secret Realm remained locked onto this area.
The yearning to live should have been the most basic instinct of every living being. Chai Zhihong did not believe that a cultivator who had cultivated to the twelfth order would burn his own life completely away for the sake of other living beings.
If the cultivators of Cold Mountain Domain had previously been in a state of fleeing for their lives, then with righteousness in their hearts, perhaps there might have been the faintest possibility.
But in the situation just now, the cultivators' side would most likely have won as well. At most, the number of cultivators they lost might have been somewhat greater.
Under such circumstances, suddenly burning himself like that looked wrong no matter how one looked at it.
Yet no matter how Chai Zhihong searched the surroundings, he still gained nothing greater. That cultivator truly had burned himself to nothing, leaving absolutely nothing behind.
Even the treasure they had guessed at before was likewise nowhere to be seen, as if it too had been burned along with him.
"Tian Wentao, tell me, could the one who died just now have only been a clone?" Chai Zhihong suddenly raised his head and looked at Tian Wentao.
"A clone?"
Tian Wentao's brow shifted slightly. If he thought of it from this angle, then completely burning himself away without leaving the slightest leeway seemed to make sense.
After all, while a clone was precious, even if it was lost, it would not affect the true body. And as long as there were suitable conditions, it