Chapter: Snow Against Flames
The chill of the Frozen Mist Valley was not the kind born of mere weather. It clung to the soul, sinking into the bones. A land untouched by the sun for centuries, it was said to devour even the bravest cultivators who stepped too deep into its heart.
Here, beneath a pale-blue sky veiled in mist, Lin Feng and Lan Xue found a moment of peace.
Or so they thought.
A low rumble echoed through the valley—like the groan of an ancient beast awakening.
Then the sky split.
A jagged rift tore through the clouds, spilling out a piercing light tinged with blue and silver. Figures descended upon the land like celestial hawks. Clad in flowing robes embroidered with frost phoenixes, a dozen cultivators hovered above the lake. At their head stood a tall man whose presence chilled the world around him far more than the air ever could.
Yan Mo, Flame-Ice Elder of the Eternal Frost Palace, looked down with cold contempt.
> "So it's true," he said, voice smooth and venomous. "The Empress has awoken. And she's chosen... this?"
His eyes settled on Lin Feng, who stood calmly before the still-frozen lotus where Lan Xue had once been sealed.
> "You came for her," Lin Feng said evenly, his body tense but his voice composed. "You'll leave disappointed."
Yan Mo smirked. "Bold. And foolish."
Lan Xue stepped forward, her expression unreadable. Her pale robes swirled with residual frost qi, her long hair like a silken stream of moonlight.
> "Leave, Yan Mo. I owe the Palace nothing. The throne, the chains, the silence—they are yours to keep."
Her words, so simple, struck like lightning.
The disciples behind Yan Mo stirred in disbelief. To speak such words—publicly, after thousands of years of reverence—was tantamount to betrayal.
Yan Mo's gaze darkened. "You were forged by the Palace, molded from divine frost. You belong to us. Not to yourself. And certainly not to a stray mutt like this one."
That did it.
In a flash of silver and black, Lin Feng vanished.
The wind cracked as his Void Traversing Step activated, his body flickering in and out of sight. Yan Mo's reaction was instant—his palm lashed out, engulfed in swirling Icefire Qi, a hybrid flame that froze as it burned.
They clashed mid-air with a thunderous boom. Lin Feng's Heavenly Demon Fist met Yan Mo's strike head-on, sending a shockwave through the valley that cracked glaciers and split trees in half.
Yan Mo sneered. "Foundation Realm? You overestimate yourself!"
But Lin Feng's aura surged, far denser than any Foundation cultivator should possess. The Heaven-Crushing Scripture pulsed within him, devouring the ambient energy, refining it in real time.
He twisted mid-air, landing a spinning backfist that cracked Yan Mo's shoulder guard.
Blood spilled.
Silence.
The Eternal Frost disciples gawked. One of them whispered, "He injured Elder Yan...?"
Yan Mo's expression froze, then twisted with rage. He extended both hands. The air shimmered and twisted, and behind him, a spectral icefire lotus the size of a mountain began to form.
> "You dare bleed me?" he hissed. "Then burn in eternal frost."
The technique was legendary—Frozen Hellfire Blossom, a palace secret art that burned the soul while freezing the body, leaving nothing behind but ash-coated ice.
Before Lin Feng could react, Lan Xue's voice echoed in his mind.
> "Draw on my essence. I permit it—just once."
Time slowed.
Frost surged into Lin Feng's core—not cold and cruel like Yan Mo's, but pure, ancient, and divine. It was her qi, a piece of the Ice Lotus Empress herself.
His body howled in protest as the frost flooded his veins. Bones cracked. Skin split. But his spirit roared louder.
He lifted both hands into a strange, elegant mudra—one Lan Xue had shown him only once.
> "Lotus Blooming in Winter's Heart."
A lotus of pure light and frost formed around him, small and silent—but pulsing with a pressure that made even the palace disciples fall to their knees.
Yan Mo laughed, not understanding.
Until the lotus bloomed.
The explosion was not fire nor ice, but something transcendent—stillness. A perfect moment of silence that consumed Yan Mo's technique mid-cast and encased him in a prison of mirrored frost. Every movement he made echoed in infinite reflection, every attack lost in a maze of frozen time.
Then, with a soft sound like shattering crystal—
He was gone.
Not a scream. Not even a mark on the snow.
Just silence.
Lan Xue stepped beside Lin Feng, who now knelt on the cracked ice, panting, blood dripping from his lips.
He looked up at her, smiling faintly despite the pain.
> "Told you I'd protect you."
She stared at him for a long moment, her expression unreadable as ever. But then she knelt too, brushing his cheek with a single cold hand.
> "You've walked a thousand steps for me," she whispered. "Let me walk beside you from now on."
Above them, the mist began to fall like snow.
Not cold this time—but soft.
And somewhere, far above, the Eternal Frost Palace watched.
And planned.