Purple Lotus nodded. She tilted her head to look at Bodhisattva Guangli, as though she saw a fine steed springing up and galloping away.
This fellow was exceptionally shrewd, and he was the leader of this group.
Yet his eyes were filled with sorrow, regret, helplessness, and even despair.
This made Purple Lotus all the more curious. Just what sort of being was this Holy Monk before her?
Why had he been able to make these people follow him unto death?
Judging by the Holy Monk's remains, his cultivation did not seem high, nor had he been particularly powerful.
For someone like him to have caused even a Quasi-Saint to fall was terrifying beyond measure.
"Is the Holy Monk truly dead?"
"Why can't I see his soul?"
Suddenly, Purple Lotus asked these questions in surprise.
She had intended to gather the Holy Monk's soul. After all, a soul would emerge when a person died.
Yet she had failed.
Only then did everyone realize that no soul had emerged from the Holy Monk.
It was too strange. They exchanged glances, not knowing what to say.
Suddenly, a female soldier stepped forward and whispered something into Purple Lotus's ear. Upon hearing it, Purple Lotus was greatly shocked.
She stepped forward, looked at the Holy Monk's remains, and suddenly pulled down his clothes.
Everyone was aghast. Bodhisattva Guangli flew into a rage. "Wicked woman, how dare you desecrate the Holy Monk's remains!"
Purple Lotus did not reply. Instead, she looked at the Holy Monk through tear-filled eyes. "No wonder. No wonder he seemed so familiar, so close to me, as though he were family."
No wonder her heart had stirred. It had not truly been romantic affection, but the mutual pull between family members.
"The Holy Monk is actually my elder brother."
"We