Fang Zhen looked toward the source of the voice.
As footsteps sounded, a man emerged from a corridor deep within the hall. He wore elaborate red noble attire and carried himself with exceptional grace, his expression a mask of faint, reserved arrogance.
As the man entered the hall, Fang Zhen got a clear look at his face.
Fang Zhen was taken aback.
The newcomer was very tall, nearly the same height as the Ellick who had just died. His build, posture, appearance, expression, and even his style of dress were as if cast from the same mold.
Even his blood-red hair, with its natural waves and curls, was styled identically.
The only difference was that the Ellick who had died, despite his astonishing regenerative abilities, possessed an unnatural aura of decay and decrepitude. Even though he had been agile, he still exuded the withered, deathly air of a man on the verge of his grave.
But this man before them was different.
