At this moment, the fragmented soul was in a miserable state. The black robe was filled with tattered holes, and even the spiritual power in him was in chaos.
Under his hands, two identical replicas were gritting their teeth.
They were on the verge of madness, living for a millennium, only to encounter such absurdity where they had to kill themselves.
Especially since they, considering themselves the originals, were being completely suppressed by the traitor.
They could no longer sense the other's memories or even thoughts.
Yet the other could still receive their memories and knew their movements at any time.
What's more terrifying is that the traitor was using these advantages to hunt them down.
"Do you think you can counterattack me just by grouping your replicas together? Too naive."
