Several translucent jellyfish-like demon beasts, their forms flickering in and out of view, advanced through the snowy expanse under the relentless blizzard.
These creatures, known as “Frost Specters,” were born from the frigid energies of heaven and earth. Though only fifth or sixth-grade demon beasts, they thrived in the bone-chilling winds and snow, their spirits undaunted by the freezing conditions.
Suddenly, the leading sixth-grade Frost Specter halted, its multiple pairs of crimson eyes—positioned along its body—locking onto an area where the snowstorm seemed unusually dense. The other fifth-grade Frost Specters also paused, turning their gazes in the same direction.
A sharp whistling sound pierced the air, followed by several crimson threads shooting through the blizzard with blinding speed. In an instant, they pierced through the Frost Specters’ bodies, cleanly splitting their demon cores in half.
With a series of *thuds*, the Frost Specters shattered like ice, their remains scattering across the snow.
A figure emerged from the storm—a female cultivator from the Small Extreme Palace, clad in a white hooded cloak. Though her face remained obscured, her cold eyes swept over the shattered ice fragments before she vanished back into the blizzard without a word.
—
Hundreds of miles away, a towering, two-zhang-tall bull-headed demon beast trudged alone across a shimmering ice lake. Its curved black horns gleamed, its fur radiating a faint blue glow, while a massive blade—half the size of a wagon wheel—rested on its shoulder. Its lumbering gait made it appear clumsy and almost comical.
Yet any human cultivator who spotted this beast would find no humor in the sight.
This was a seventh-grade demon beast, on the verge of transformation. Due to the flight restrictions imposed by the North Nether Island’s formations, only eighth-grade or higher demon beasts could ignore the suppression and continue flying toward the Small Extreme Palace. The rest had no choice but to proceed on foot.
Thus, this particular beast, evidently unskilled in movement techniques, had no option but to plod forward step by step.
Suddenly, the massive blade on its shoulder twitched—something had vanished in a flash.
A thunderous *boom* echoed from the side of the lake, followed by a shrill scream from beneath the ice.
A razor-sharp gash, several feet wide and two zhang long, appeared on the frozen surface, its depth unfathomable.
The bull-headed demon beast slowly turned its gaze toward the wound in the ice.
Moments later, a surge of blood gushed forth, carrying with it half of a corpse. Judging by the attire, it was a male disciple of the Small Extreme Palace.
The man had likely been hiding beneath the ice using a water-escape technique, intending to ambush passing demon beasts. Instead, the seemingly dull-witted seventh-grade beast had seen through his concealment and struck him down with a single slash.
A cruel glint flashed in the demon beast’s eyes as it reached out with one hand, pulling the severed corpse toward itself.
With a grin, it began devouring the remains.
Within the time it took to drink a cup of tea, the beast had consumed the entire half-corpse. Satisfied, it rubbed its belly before hoisting its blade and continuing its march.
—
Similar scenes of slaughter unfolded across North Nether Island—either low-grade demon beasts fell to ambushes, or Small Extreme Palace disciples were slain and devoured in retaliation.
Yet all the combatants were low-grade demon beasts or cultivators below the Core Formation stage. Nascent Soul cultivators and eighth-grade demon beasts seemed indifferent to these skirmishes. The former remained holed up within the ice city, while the latter soared overhead, ignoring the bloodshed below.
This wasn’t because the high-grade demon beasts lacked the desire to eliminate the Small Extreme Palace’s weaker members. Rather, under the flight restrictions, tracking down cultivators skilled in various escape techniques amidst the blizzard was no easy task.
Some disciples even carried artifacts capable of masking their auras, making detection even harder.
Moreover, even if they occasionally killed a few cultivators, it would have negligible impact on the larger conflict. Conserving their strength for the impending decisive battle was far more prudent—every ounce of energy would be precious when the time came for life-or-death struggles.
—
As the demon horde drew closer to the ice city, within a grand hall of the Frost Mare Secret Realm, the beautiful Madam Liu sat upon a jade throne. Before her, two rows of Nascent Soul elders listened silently as a white-robed disciple reported on the skirmishes against the demon beasts.
“Of the hundred elite disciples dispatched, thirty-seven have perished. Confirmed kills include one hundred twenty-eight demon beasts, mostly from the Ice Sea. The second squad has already been deployed and should rendezvous with the first within an hour,” the disciple reported respectfully.
“Thirty-seven fallen… The timing is about right. They should all be within a hundred-thousand-li radius of the ice city by now. Inform Elder Ye—activate the Suppression Sea Bell in one hour. This time, we must cripple the Ice Sea’s low-grade forces. Otherwise, their cannon fodder will pose a significant nuisance during the siege,” Madam Liu commanded without batting an eye.
“As you command, Palace Master!” A white-haired elder with a youthful face immediately flicked his wrist, sending a message talisman spiraling out of the hall.
“Junior Brother Ding, activate all defensive formations. Once we deploy the bell, the Ice Sea’s high-grade beasts will likely go berserk in their grief,” Madam Liu added calmly.
“Understood!” Another elder rose and departed in a streak of light.
“Also, warn the disciples outside the city—the Suppression Sea Bell’s effects last only the time it takes an incense stick to burn, and it cannot be used again for over a century. Once the time elapses, all disciples must return immediately. Seal all hidden teleportation arrays afterward to prevent infiltration by demonic forces.”
“By your will!”
As Madam Liu issued her orders, Nascent Soul elders swiftly departed to carry out their tasks.
—
Meanwhile, several hundred li from the ice city, a large group of high-grade demon beasts had gathered atop a small iceberg, their auras oppressive.
Before them lay the Small Extreme Palace’s grand defensive formation, shrouded in a vast expanse of white mist. Every transformed beast wore a grave expression.
The group was clearly divided into two factions. One, numbering just over a dozen, clustered around an elderly man and a young boy. The other, over twenty strong, surrounded a slender woman in silver robes.
Strangely, the smaller faction was impeccably dressed, their mannerisms indistinguishable from human cultivators—save for their slightly unusual features. Their gazes toward the other group carried a hint of disdain.
In contrast, the larger faction was a motley crew of savage-looking beasts, clad in crude pelts or even bare-chested. They carried an assortment of weapons—blades, axes, and halberds—either strapped to their backs or gripped in their hands. Though they wore storage pouches made of beast hide, they inexplicably chose not to stow their weapons inside. Their eyes burned with brutality, and their regard for the other faction was far from friendly.
The two groups stood on opposite sides of the iceberg’s peak, their division stark—like fire and water.
Any unwary cultivator stumbling upon this gathering would flee in terror.
Every beast present was at least eighth-grade, transformed into humanoid forms. The elder, the child, and the silver-robed woman were all tenth-grade—a force surpassing even the mightiest of the Ten Great Sects.
The elder, clad in a black robe, exuded an imposing aura, his gray hair tinged with a faint blue glow. His piercing eyes radiated authority.
The boy, appearing no older than six or seven, had delicate features reminiscent of a celestial jade child—save for his faintly blood-red irises and the perpetual smirk playing on his lips.
As for the silver-robed woman, her beauty was ethereal, her skin like snow. Yet beneath her delicate appearance lay an overwhelming presence—her mere glance sent the surrounding ferocious beasts cowering in fear.
“Fairy Feng, I never expected the Small Extreme Palace to expend their thousand-year accumulation of frost energy in one go. How will they defend themselves against future threats now?” the elder chuckled.
“Elder Qing, why feign ignorance? We aren’t here for the Frost Marrow, but the humans don’t know that. Naturally, they’ll fight desperately, exhausting all means. What use would their stored frost energy be if we breach their defenses?” the silver-robed woman replied coolly.
“Still, I’m surprised Fairy Feng personally took action. Rumor has it you’ve secluded yourself in the Ice Abyss Island for two millennia,” the child interjected, his voice shockingly aged—utterly mismatched with his youthful appearance.
“Ordinary matters wouldn’t draw me out. But this concerns ascension to the Spirit Realm—how could I entrust it to subordinates? You, too, sent your avatar in person,” the woman countered, her gaze steady.
“Haha! I never imagined you’d agree so readily. It seems Fairy Feng has long harbored grievances against the Small Extreme Palace—eager to eradicate the legacy of the Ice Soul Fairy. In truth, you’re leveraging the might of our Ten Thousand Demons Valley for your own ends!” the child sneered, his crimson eyes glinting.
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