Book One, Chapter 43: The Ice God’s Legacy, Suppressing the Ice Maiden

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Just then.

High above the sky, a vast expanse of white radiance descended like white flames. Within Ye Wuchen’s field of vision, an enormous silver phantom slowly emerged. Illusory and towering a hundred meters high, it vaguely resembled a human clad in silver armor.

The dazzling silver light was filled with an overwhelming majesty. Armor covered the entire figure except for its face, yet even the face was completely indistinct and impossible to see clearly.

“Your sword is powerful, but a mortal sword is still a mortal sword in the end. It can never ascend to the Heavenly Realm.” The figure cloaked in white and silver light seemed to see straight through Ye Wuchen.

“My sword is called One Thought Eternal. It is the pinnacle of ice...”

......

Should these men fail to hold Taiyuan, then in the future the Kuizhou Army would find itself caught between enemies on both sides. Surrounding the enemy stronghold while waiting for reinforcements would become nothing more than the foolish act of building its own prison.

Ye Huan’s tone was mild, but his attitude was extremely firm. Jin Qiaoqiao actually felt unable to breathe in his presence.

The two ran back and complained bitterly. That very night, twenty or thirty men from the Carbon Gang came to settle the score, only to “coincidentally” encounter another group of unidentified people on the road. They were beaten into disarray, and their leader had one ear sliced off before fleeing amid shrieks of agony.

These coffins were exceedingly strange. They were not the sharply angular kind one usually saw, but cylindrical coffins, each resembling a section of an enormous tree that had been cut down and hollowed out. Their surfaces were covered in brilliantly colored paintings.

At last, a change appeared on Dorgon’s expressionless face. His complexion first turned pale, then flushed crimson. His vision blurred, and he toppled from his horse.

Everyone present had eyes that gleamed with excitement, as though they had witnessed a glorious moment. A splendid future seemed to stretch before them like a red carpet unfurled across the earth, leading straight toward wealth, honor, and prosperity.

The fierce force of the palm transformed into a gigantic black serpent, carrying immense power as it struck directly downward. Then, seeing that the middle-aged man in the Daoist robe had already attacked, the other six cultivators also launched their attacks in succession.

Huo Ying’er glanced at Chen Yang. Seeing the lazy smile on his face, she could not imagine him becoming a man of promise. She thought that perhaps a quiet, ordinary life would be better for Chen Yang.

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As soon as these words were spoken, many cultivators felt that the other party’s face was truly thick-skinned beyond belief.

Just then, outside the Blackrock Mine, an assassin player stared excitedly at the mine entrance before him and immediately sent a message to his team leader.

Yang Tian seized the traitor chief by the chest. With every sentence, he drove in another knife, and only after the traitor chief had breathed his last did he viciously throw the body to the ground.

Upon hearing this, Shen Zihao immediately waved his arm excitedly. He knew that his side had won the fourth round. In other words, his side and Li Tianyi’s side were now tied.

The icy river water sent both men shivering, clearing their minds and sharpening their thoughts. Yet what happened next left them pale with astonishment. They looked at each other blankly, utterly at a loss.

“What proof do you have that you are who you claim to be?” Guye Duoxi’s withered left eye twitched. Deep down, he seemed to have vaguely sensed that Mo Xiaosheng and the others were setting a trap for the warden.

He had begun by casually flipping through the first volume, but had gradually become absorbed in the story. He could not help sighing inwardly: It seemed that yet another great master was about to emerge onto the stage. Well, perhaps not the kind of earth-shaking, spectacular emergence that stunned the world.

“Even if I lose, I’ll make sure you don’t win!” Su Yan glanced at the strange black flames below, then charged coldly toward the Soul Flame.

Qian Guokun and Director Li both stared fixedly at Zhao Tiegang, waiting for his answer. Although Cai Ruihu had already stated that Zhao Tiegang had acted under the instructions of Zhai Qianyi and Dong Zhilin, Qian Guokun and Director Li still wanted to hear Zhao Tiegang admit it with his own mouth.

However, this “temporary base” of the Ice Soul Group was still some distance from the location marked on the map.

There was no denying that the Dark Council was powerful, nor that Satan was formidable. But Jiang Fei was not yet so frightened that he would panic and seek refuge with the Vatican Church.

Soybean Film Network was a relatively professional movie-review website and a gathering place for film enthusiasts.

That was why he had initially refused the marriage to Su Qingyu. But Old Madam Bo had agreed to it forcefully nonetheless. It was the first time in all these years that Bo Jingchen had openly opposed her. That night, Old Madam Bo’s blood pressure rose so high that she was nearly sent to the hospital again.

“That might work, but the prophet’s place is unsuitable. And once we get there, what if you change your mind?” the team leader said with a frown.

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The prophet had already drained the fresh blood in the bowl in a single breath. Thin traces of blood still clung to the corners of his mouth. Even from so far away, Xiao Fan felt an eerie chill and found the prophet thoroughly sinister. He was certain that the man was no good.

Mu Xian threw away the long blade in her hand and tried to press down on her bleeding wound. Ling Weichu pushed her dagger forward, and its sharp edge opened a cut across Mu Xian’s neck, frightening her into complete stillness.

Today, however, was different. Ke Huan’s father was also there that evening. He had come to visit Nie Zhaozhong, who had spent a long time in the hospital and had only just returned home. Several of the older generation had gathered together to chat.

Suisui was indeed much like Ziniu, possessing an extraordinarily powerful and complex inner world along with intense personal needs. Given such an upbringing, it was only natural that she would be difficult and awkward.

It was just that Ye Lixin had never learned to behave properly. Heaven knew what she had done with her hands; they were rough and bristly rather than smooth.

“You miss me.” Bo Jingchen suddenly blurted out those words. Su Qingyu’s entire face flushed crimson. He was not even beside her—it was only a phone call—yet she still felt intensely embarrassed.

Chen Zheng hovered in the void, throwing back his head and laughing excitedly without end. With the Immortal-Prisoning Cord in his grasp, he was filled with confidence. With such power, who could possibly withstand him?

Pink flames rose into the air as the materials were refined one by one. The artifact refiner was meticulous yet composed, showing not the slightest discomfort at refining the lowest-grade material.

Below, Long Jiu hurriedly controlled two Heavenly Demon Apostles and sent them flying downward. He had the apostles raise both hands and restrain the space below as well. Although Long Jiu did not know what power the torrential rain pouring from the sky might possess, the words of one’s elders were usually never wrong.

Once the power within the skull had been completely collected, Ling Yan’s divine sense rushed without pause toward Lan Ying’er’s sacrificial offering. In Ling Yan’s eyes, the power there was simply the finest delicacy in the world—a substance utterly addictive.

“Lord Ling Yan, your emergence from seclusion could not have come at a better time. The explanation you wanted has arrived.” Xiao Yuxin’s beautiful eyes rippled with light, and the corners of her lips curved slightly. She had expected Ling Yan to react, but to her surprise, he did not move at all in his chair. His expression did not change in the slightest.

Watching that approaching figure, Yi Renjian’s expression was frenzied. The treasured sword in his hand slashed repeatedly through the air before him, as though doing so could bring him some sense of security.

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