A gale whipped past his ears. Even in the full fury of his sprint, He Yiming’s movements remained methodical, betraying no hint of panic.

The moment he drew the Grand Blade into his hands, an absolute, profound confidence flared in his eyes. This certainty was a gift from the Grand Blade itself; it felt as though with this weapon in hand, he feared nothing and was capable of anything.

With a nimble flip of his wrists, the Grand Blade separated into three segments. He Yiming drew a deep breath, finally gripping the last section, channeling his immense Zhenqi into it.

Then, with a shake of his hand, this final steel rod shot out like a comet chasing the moon, arcing toward the back of the sprinting figure. A massive sonic boom echoed through the air.

Saturated with He Yiming’s Zhenqi, the steel rod moved with lightning speed, seeming to arrive at the black-clad man’s heart the very instant it left his hand. The man’s heart seized with dread.

He flicked his wrist, and a soft sword sprang forth, stabbing with surgical precision at the end of the rod, as if guided by an unseen pair of eyes on his back. The rod, carrying an unparalleled momentum, paused mid-air.

It seemed that this single thrust had nullified all its power, and it tumbled to the ground with a heavy thud. However, the man, still moving at high speed, stumbled awkwardly, nearly pitching forward onto the earth.

He braced himself, barely regaining his footing. But as he took his next step, a horrifying sensation struck his back once more.

Under intense pressure, this man proved he was indeed one of the Innate experts. Without hesitation, he thrust his sword out again, striking the tip of the second flying rod with the same unerring accuracy.

Yet, his ill fortune did not abate. Just as he managed to parry the second rod, the third, most potent wave of terror rapidly expanded within his senses.

He had never felt such an overwhelming sense of horror, not even when Yu Jinglei had appeared and displayed the power of the Heaven-Piercing realm. Feeling that absolute, soul-chilling dread radiating from behind him, a sudden, profound calm settled over his heart.

His rigorous, ingrained training asserted itself at this critical juncture. His soft sword whipped back in a reverse thrust for the third time.

Clang… A sharp sound rang out. The Grand Blade flew high into the air, and almost simultaneously, the soft sword in the man’s grasp could no longer withstand the massive impact, snapping cleanly in two.

What terrified the black-clad man even more was that during these three swift attacks by the hidden projectiles, He Yiming had completely closed the distance. He Yiming stomped, closing the gap, and appeared directly behind the man.

He calmly extended both hands, forming an arcane hand seal in mid-air. A red light flashed in his palms, beating twice like a muffled drum.

His recently recovered Zhenqi condensed into a single point, finally releasing a small, needle-like red beam of Zhenqi. It pierced the distance between them swiftly, aimed directly at the man’s back.

The man gave a wry smile, leaped lightly, spun halfway around in the air, and launched a fist straight into his chest, successfully blocking the sudden, covert attack. His gaze then fell upon He Yiming, confusion clouding his features.

Why, after running alongside this man for such a long time, did He Yiming still appear so vibrant, as if he had just slept for a full seventeen or eighteen hours? Could this person possess a tonic superior even to the Sacred Water?

Indeed, even an Innate expert would be overcome with extreme exhaustion after such a sustained, near-limit run. Even if he possessed the supreme Sacred Water to restore his fatigued spirit, the Zhenqi consumed still severely impacted his vitality.

In sharp contrast, He Yiming now radiated vigor, appearing robust and full of life—a sight guaranteed to arouse suspicion. He Yiming leisurely dusted his hands.

Since the opponent’s soft sword was broken, he had abandoned any thought of retrieving the Grand Blade. Instead, he strode forward with long, purposeful steps toward the man.

At this moment, He Yiming’s spirit and essence were intensely focused; his powerful aura had completely locked onto the man. Before the man could break free of He Yiming’s spiritual lock, escape was impossible.

Of course, if the man’s body-lightening technique were twice as fast, He Yiming’s acute sensory perception would be useless. But for anyone, doubling the speed of one’s movement art in an instant was practically impossible.

The man let out a bitter chuckle and suddenly spoke, “Esteemed Sir, I believe there has been some misunderstanding between us.” Though his tone remained as rigid as before, He Yiming clearly understood the intent behind his words. He Yiming let out a cold laugh.

“Misunderstanding? Is it also a misunderstanding that the three of you conspired to ambush and kill an Elder of my Hengshan lineage?” He paused, suddenly recalling something Yu Xichen had said, and a killing intent flashed across his face.

“Stealing Elder Yu Xichen’s Innate Inner Core—that was your doing too, wasn't it?” A look of extreme fury instantly contorted the man’s face. “That is untrue!

The two Innate Spirit Beasts were undeniably killed by the three of us, while that Elder from your sect hid in the shadows, meticulously waiting for us to let our guard down before stealing one of them. He is a despicable bandit and a common thief, nothing like an honorable Paladin, Sir.” He Yiming paused, regarding him with newfound interest.

Though they were trading accusations, He Yiming naturally chose to believe his own people. Just as he was about to mock them, the man bowed slightly.

“My name is Romia, and I come from the distant West. I have no wish to foster enmity with your sect.

I implore you, Sir, to cease your pursuit. Romia will reward you handsomely.” He Yiming’s heart stirred, and he glanced toward the West in surprise.

“You came from the other side of the mountain range?” Romia nodded. “Precisely.

The three of us endured untold hardships, traversing the entire mountain range to reach this place.” A swift glimmer of admiration crossed He Yiming’s eyes. No one truly knew the immense scale or exact length of that mountain range spanning the entire northwest corridor.

Yet, this man had crossed it from the other side. It was truly unimaginable.

The perils and difficulties were beyond description; the sheer length of the journey alone was enough to make He Yiming retreat three paces in apprehension. Romia seemed to sense He Yiming’s astonishment.

He reached into his robe and produced a translucent, emerald-green vial. He Yiming looked up.

Inside the vial were some white, viscous droplets, but he had no idea what they were for. Romia’s expression grew grave.

“This is Sacred Water, a specialty of the Temple of the Gods. When used to treat the body, it can easily boost one’s strength.

If consumed after a major battle, it instantly restores one’s spirit with no side effects. If you are willing to resolve this grievance here and now, I offer this Sacred Water to you.” He Yiming laughed softly.

“Ro… Romia, is it? I suspect your two companions are already facing mortal danger.

If they perish, will you still be willing to resolve this enmity?” Romia’s expression remained blank. “They were both Paladins, cultivated by the sacred and magnificent Almighty Lord.

Their return to the Lord’s embrace is an unparalleled honor. How could I possibly hold a grudge against you?” He Yiming was momentarily stunned speechless.

He genuinely began to doubt whether these three men were even allies. Seeing the astonishment and uncertainty on He Yiming’s face, Romia stepped forward, gently setting the green vial on a nearby stone, then slowly retreated a few paces.

His movements were cautious and deliberate; his aura remained placid, showing no intent to attack He Yiming. Likewise, He Yiming made no immediate move.

His gaze swept over the vial on the ground, and He Yiming felt a powerful pull in his heart. If the Sacred Water inside this bottle was as exaggerated as Romia claimed, wouldn't it be even more potent than a Spirit-Enhancing Golden Pill?

He extended a hand forward, palm concave inward. The vial, not far away, was immediately pulled by an invisible force toward his waiting palm.

However, at that instant, He Yiming mentally compared his action to Yu Jinglei’s abilities and promptly felt a sense of defeat. Though both involved moving objects remotely, the difficulty between the two was worlds apart.

The vial was finally drawn into He Yiming’s palm, but at that very moment, his expression abruptly shifted. As his skin touched the glass, he felt an intensely cold power radiating from it—a coldness he had never before encountered or even imagined.

The icy energy surged, instantly spreading from his palm up his arm, reaching his chest and then his entire body. In the blink of an eye, a thin layer of white frost coated He Yiming.

He Yiming was horrified. He circulated his internal Zhenqi, intending to activate his Innate Blazing Fire Art.

But he suddenly discovered that the power of this coldness far exceeded his imagination; the moment it froze his body, it had also invaded his interior. Now, the circulation speed of his Zhenqi had dropped dramatically, and the frigid energy was spreading rapidly, seemingly even affecting his capacity to think.

A glint of malicious triumph flashed in Romia’s eyes. He abruptly opened his mouth and shouted a word he had been holding in reserve: “Giri Gulu…” After uttering this phrase, Romia’s posture immediately slumped, as if he hadn't rested for three days and nights.

All the energy restored moments before by the Sacred Water was utterly depleted. Yet, without hesitation, he charged forward like a striking leopard.

The dense killing intent rising from him was almost tangible, revealing the extent of his murderous desire toward He Yiming. Though he did not understand the meaning of the word, He Yiming felt a sudden, sharp pain in his head, as if countless needle tips were piercing his skull from the outside, threatening to split it open.

The bone-chilling cold emanating from his hand, combined with the agonizing pain in his head, rendered He Yiming immobile in an instant. Simultaneously, Romia’s fierce counterattack was imminent, leaving him with the feeling that he could only close his eyes and await death.

However, just as despair washed over He Yiming’s mind, a miraculous energy suddenly surged from his internal Dantian. This power moved with incredible speed, spreading to every part of He Yiming’s body virtually the moment it emerged.

The freezing sensation in his hand vanished, and even the headache disappeared. He raised his eyebrows slightly, instantly grasping the transformation in his internal Zhenqi.

He could still feel the intensely cold force emanating from his palm. But unlike before, this power could no longer freeze him, because this energy had integrated itself into his Dantian, seemingly becoming one of the capabilities he commanded.

It was like the Innate Blazing Fire Art or the Wave Ripple Technique. Although he hadn't learned any peculiar martial arts or mastered any strange pathways for circulating Zhenqi, he possessed the sensation that this ultimate cold energy could now be wielded at his will.

Furthermore, his mind was perfectly clear; the piercing pain from moments before had entirely vanished. His only minor regret was that while he had been attacked by that strange sound, he had failed to master the associated power.

The energy unleashed from his Dantian had merely dissolved the multitude of needles in his mind. He looked up slightly and saw a hand enlarging infinitely before him—it was Romia’s full-force strike, intended to kill him instantly.

A faint smirk touched the corner of He Yiming’s mouth. Though internally he was completely restored, his exterior was still covered in a layer of white frost.

The slight twitch of his lips made the expression appear unnervingly strange. Romia’s heart tightened.

He wondered if his eyes were deceiving him—could a person frozen by Ten Thousand Year Ice Marrow still move? This thought flashed through his mind like lightning, and then he saw a hand.

The hand that had been frozen was raised high, meeting his own with a heavy impact. Instantly, Romia shuddered, and all his movements ceased.

From He Yiming’s palm, an intense cold emanated—one that Romia knew intimately. It was the power of the Ten Thousand Year Ice Marrow, which he and his companions had acquired through sheer chance.

The three of them had traveled from the distant West, passing through a cave where they found this miraculous, semi-transparent green vial. The vial looked completely ordinary on the outside.

If touched while wearing gloves—even the crudest straw weave—there would be no ill effect whatsoever. However, if the vial contacted bare skin, it immediately released a massive, unbearable wave of frigid energy, sufficient to freeze a person to death.

When they discovered the bizarre vial in the cave, the luckiest thing was that there were three of them. After one was afflicted, the other two immediately provided aid, allowing them to survive.

Had there been only one, certain death would have followed. After narrowly escaping death, they confirmed that this was the legendary Ten Thousand Year Ice Marrow, as only such a substance could possess the power to freeze even an Innate expert.

Admittedly, the cold energy of the Ice Marrow in this jade bottle seemed to exceed the limit of ‘ten thousand years,’ but they could not discern the exact age. Moreover, the bottle itself was an unknown treasure.

After all, even Romia did not know what kind of vessel could contain the extreme cold of the Ten Thousand Year Ice Marrow and successfully isolate that chill from the outside world. This strange artifact was Romia’s greatest gain from the journey; compared to it, the Innate Inner Core seemed slightly less valuable.

Now, facing utter desperation, Romia had placed his only hope in this vial. As he had wished, He Yiming had indeed fallen for the same trap as his companions.

But he never anticipated that even after being frozen and subjected to a sonic attack, He Yiming would emerge unscathed, instead channeling the very cold energy he dreaded directly back onto him. In an instant, countless thoughts flooded Romia’s mind.

Under the assault of this pervasive cold, although he desperately tried to move, his actions were sluggish, like those of an elderly person, devoid of any threat. In a haze, his consciousness slipped into a strange state.

He seemed to see his entire life unfold: from birth, to achieving mastery, journeying with his two good friends to this distant land, right up to the sight of his present self... His lips seemed to move, but no sound emerged.

He gradually became completely rigid. He Yiming’s body trembled slightly.

The white frost covering him receded entirely, and wisps of steam rose from his form—the effect of He Yiming using the Blazing Fire Art to dry his damp clothes. Under his precise control, the temperature of the Blazing Fire Art was perfectly regulated.

Soon, his clothes were dry, albeit slightly wrinkled, as if he had worn them for a long time. Withdrawing his hand, He Yiming looked at Romia, who now resembled an ice sculpture, and remained inwardly vigilant.

He had no idea what power he had just utilized, but the formidable might displayed after his Dantian’s Zhenqi transformed into this energy was almost unbelievable, even to himself. When his cold Zhenqi contacted Romia’s, that ultimate icy chill erupted, completely freezing Romia’s body, blood, muscle, and even his Zhenqi.

Were it not for this, he could not have so effortlessly slain this Innate expert. Glancing at the small green vial clutched in his hand, He Yiming was filled with profound emotion.

Romia had intended to use this object to strike him down, but he failed to foresee that the intense cold within the jade bottle would ultimately become the instrument of his own demise.