You

Xuanyuan rose to his feet and lightly nudged Old Man Ying's corpse with his toe. The body rolled over like a torn sack, its bulging eyes still staring fixedly, as if trying to etch Xuanyuan's appearance into the void of reincarnation.

"Tsk. He died with his eyes open."

Xuanyuan curled his lip. There wasn't a trace of sympathy on his face; instead, he regarded the corpse with the scrutiny of someone examining prey. "Staring at me won't help. When you're reincarnated, remember not to be a dog for such a weak master."

The stench of blood mingled with resentment in the room, forming a nauseating odor.

Xuanyuan acted as if he couldn't smell it. He was more interested in the changes in his sea of consciousness.

The energy of the Soul Devouring Infant he had absorbed had now been fully digested, becoming a pool of clear, pure Divine Soul power that merged with his existing sea of mental energy.

If his mental energy had previously been a vast but tranquil lake, now a hot spring seemed to have welled up from its depths, warming the entire body of water and filling it with vitality and life.

At the slightest thought, he could mobilize his mental energy far faster than before, and it was more condensed as well.

"So... this is another way to use the soul."

Xuanyuan murmured, excitement glinting in his eyes. "This is way more thrilling than sitting in meditation or whatever."

He crouched down and searched Old Man Ying's black robe without the slightest courtesy.

For a proper transmigrator, looting the spoils was a sacred post-battle ritual, the final "respect" paid to the dead.

Before long, he found a cloth pouch in Old Man Ying's robes. It felt cold and gloomy to the touch.

A special soul-thread