The moment Shangguan Xiyue's words fell.
A surge of cold, purple radiance gradually spread through the air.
"Purple Martial Soul," Xiao Yi murmured to himself, frowning.
He frowned because, in that instant when the purple radiance emerged, an inexplicable feeling arose in his heart.
Yes, inexplicable.
He couldn't describe what the feeling was—whether it was melancholic, desolate, or... an irresistible urge to...
And then there was that burst of purple radiance.
Logically speaking, although the purple radiance had gradually appeared, the Martial Soul had not truly condensed yet and should not have given off such an icy sensation.
Yet, the first thing that came to Xiao Yi's mind was 'icy cold.'
This 'cold' was not related to a physical sensation of heat and cold.
It emanated from his heart, from the deepest part of his own being.
This 'cold' seemed to be because his eyes, gazing at the purple radiance, felt cold.
Nothing more.
Several seconds later.
