Chen Ye raised an eyebrow.
Hungry?
The word came from the mouth of a "corpse puppet" made of resentment, death energy, and fragments of laws. It sounded incredibly eerie.
His first reaction wasn't horror, but extreme calm and analysis.
The ability to speak meant it had developed the most basic intelligence. This was beyond his expectations, and it made things more complicated—or, rather... more interesting.
A killing tool that only followed orders and a weapon with self-awareness that could express its needs were of completely different value.
The vortex in Chen Ye's deep black right eye paused slightly.
There was an absolute master-servant bond between him and Ling Feiyan, one that stemmed from the source of death. He could clearly sense that the intelligence she had just begun to develop was like a guttering candle in the wind, with only one thought at its core—hunger.
An extreme craving for energy, one that sprang from her very existence.
"What are you hungry for?" Chen Ye asked. His voice was calm, as if he were asking the most ordinary question.
Ling Feiyan's body couldn't make complex expressions. She simply raised her withered hand and pointed first at the vigorous Life Aura left behind in the valley when Zhao Gan used his Blood Escape Technique, then at the dense, lingering death energy that surrounded her.
Her movements were slow and stiff, but her meaning was perfectly clear.
She wanted both.
Chen Ye understood.
She was no longer a mere dead thing, no longer hungry only to devour life. After merging with the source of death through her bond with him, an "anomaly" of a host, she had become a special being that needed "yin and yang in balance."
Life was her "food," and death was her "foundation." She needed both.
This was practically...