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Meanwhile, Chen Mu's gaze settled on the last boy.
The boy looked about thirteen or fourteen, slightly taller than Chen Xiaojun. He was lean but stood unusually straight, with a gravity that belied his age.
His short, gray-white hair stood up in a messy tangle, like shards of ice. His skin had the pallor of someone long deprived of sunlight, and his face was stern, with a high nose bridge and thin lips pressed tightly together.
Most striking were his eyes, whose irises were a rare ice blue. His wrists were bound by a pair of soul power shackles that were noticeably heavier and covered in more intricate runes.
"What's your name? Why aren't you manifesting your martial soul?" Chen Mu asked calmly.
The boy did not answer. He merely swept a cold, emotionless gaze over everyone. There was neither fear nor ingratiation in his eyes, only unfathomable indifference and distance, like a lone wolf held captive.
Chen Mu smiled. "Quite a personality you've got."
Just then, the former steward of the Bone-Digging Corps was brought over by the guards, trembling with fear.
At the sight of Chen Xiaojun and the others, he immediately put on a fawning smile, nodding and bowing. "Young masters, honored sirs, what are your instructions?"
Chen Mu walked back over and pointed at the gray-haired boy. "Where did this kid come from? Why the special treatment? What's his name?"
The steward hastily bowed. "Fifth Young Master, his name is Winter. We don't know what he was called before. We just picked a name based on his appearance."
"We got him from the Black Market on the northern border three years ago. He was ten then. He'd already awakened his martial soul when we bought him, and his