Still Trashed

He felt something fundamentally in his body. It was like he was immortal. He could feel all of his flesh wounds heal in an instant, at the expense of the little Qi that was gathered into his body from the cycle of the Heaven Devouring Art. 

Inside his body itself, among all the sparks and runes of lightning, that little man was sitting cross legged, as if meditating. 

Liu Feng needed no explanation. This was the soul that he had formed during this tribulation. No wonder it was called the Soul Formation Realm. 

But one thing was certain, this soul had more significance than just shape. The face that it took, a combination of Liu Feng, and Gray, meant that it was a combination of both. A soul represented him as a person.

But he was still solemn, and looked at Long Xian, who was approaching him slowly.