The Divided Body Bai Ye opened his eyes, his expression indifferent and his gaze lacking vitality.
When Hong Yuan had last entered Great Xuan, he had split off thirty or forty percent of his consciousness under the influence of the [Karmic Calamity Dao Seed]. Now, the consciousness inhabiting his Divided Body amounted to less than one percent of his own.
It was hardly surprising that controlling such a powerful vessel with so little consciousness left something lacking.
A fine radiance blossomed between Hong Yuan's brows. Threads of consciousness flowed like electric arcs into Bai Ye's vessel, and the latter's expression gradually came alive.
Bai Ye smiled faintly and cupped his hands. "Greetings, fellow Daoist!"
Hong Yuan chuckled. He had indulged his mischievous streak a little: some novels from his previous life had featured scenes of originals and their clones exchanging awkward pleasantries.
His consciousness sank into the Divided Body. Under the Dao Seed's influence, Hong Yuan could scarcely sense any difference between it and his original self. They were practically one person.
The connection between the Divided Body's fleshly vessel and Hong Yuan's consciousness was utterly seamless: spirit and flesh unity.
At a thought, Bai Ye extended his hand and flicked a finger. Seething true qi condensed into a single point and shot skyward, blasting through dozens of yards of air. A tremendous explosion followed, whipping up howling gales across the sky.
Was using this kind of power to oversee the world not a colossal waste of talent?
This was not merely slaughtering a chicken with an ox-cleaving blade; it was shooting a mosquito with an anti-aircraft cannon.
In truth, Hong Yuan had plenty of easy, effortless ways to oversee the world. A moment's thought would yield at least nine.
For instance, he could subjugate a group of Grandmasters with