The air in the Underground Palace reeked of blood and decay. Dense, dark-red carvings covered the rock walls around the altar, and a bitter chill seeped through the cracks.
The head severed moments earlier rolled across the cold stone floor, while the torso slumped in the center of the altar. A closer look revealed black tendrils as fine as hair sprouting from the ragged wound at the neck, silently writhing outward like living things.
Huo Yuhao tightened his grip on the Blood War Scythe. The blood-red glow flowing along its blade trembled faintly.
On the other side of the altar, Ghost Nana had yet to recover from the bizarre sight before her.
What she had always known was deeply ingrained: once a Soul Master's head was severed, survival was impossible.
Nana took an instinctive step forward, her translucent form wavering. Her eyes stayed fixed on the separated head and torso as she asked in a low voice, bewilderment thick in her words, "His head's already been cut off. How can he still be alive?"
Huo Yuhao did not turn to look at her. His gaze remained locked on the two pieces of the body atop the altar. "Destroying only part of the vessel that holds his flesh won't kill him," he said, his low voice carrying through the deathly silent palace.
Before his words had faded, the eyelids of the head on the floor twitched without warning.
The tightly shut lids slowly lifted. Small, triangular eyes brimming with venom snapped open and fixed on Huo Yuhao at the center of the altar, hatred and savagery surging in their depths.
More slick black tendrils gushed from the severed neck. They twisted and spread like venomous snakes, straining to join the fallen head to the torso once more.
At that moment, the