Within the sweep of the blade’s light, the temperature plummeted. Even these powerful Totem Envoys felt waves of chilling cold wash over them.

It was as if, in the next instant, crystalline powder began to dance within that specific area, much like the abundant, scattered petals of a pear blossom tree in spring.

The expressions of everyone present shifted; these were snowflakes, an intense chill born directly from nature itself.

Yet, what filled them with disbelief was that these snowflakes did not descend from the distant clouds high above, but were confined strictly within the boundary enveloped by the great broadsword. He Yiming’s ice-elemental technique was astonishingly potent, actually influencing the very force of nature, compelling the moisture in the air to freeze into snow and ice.

In a daze, the area transformed into a vast expanse of white. The snowflakes suspended in the air floated gently, like white butterflies fluttering their wings, settling on the heads and bodies of the onlookers, and sinking deep into the hearts of all the Totem Envoys, making them profoundly aware of their opponent’s might and filling them with dread.

Halin and the others immediately sensed the immense power contained within. Their True Qi circulation began to stagnate, their bodies grew subtly numb, and even their hearing and sight were severely impacted by the snow and ice, robbing them of their characteristic sharpness.

Every one of them understood clearly: if this situation persisted, they would likely struggle to hold out until the arrival of Ambassador Suoge.

A shrill howl erupted from Halin’s throat, immediately followed by the other seven. The cries issuing from their mouths were desolate and mournful, akin to eight dying wolves emitting their final calls.

Then, Halin lunged forward. The wolf claws in her hands carved curves of exquisite precision in the air at an almost unimaginable speed, aimed directly at He Yiming in a desperate, life-risking assault.

Beneath her, another Totem Envoy materialized with an eerie swiftness. His wolf claws swept out continuously, seemingly erecting a sudden wall formed entirely of claws right in front of He Yiming.

A flash of white light suddenly burst from behind this wall of claws. The curved saber hurtled forward through the minuscule gap between the two attackers, rushing in with reckless abandon.

Skimming the ground, a soft whip slithered like a venomous snake. Just as it neared He Yiming, it suddenly straightened out, resembling the tail of a massive wolf, and lashed out fiercely.

After unleashing those piercing screeches, everyone instantly altered their fighting style. They abandoned their defensive posture and counter-attacked with the momentum of a rushing river.

The first four attackers showed no sign of defense whatsoever; they had cast their very lives aside. In that moment, in their eyes and minds, it seemed the only objective was to strike down He Yiming right then and there.

He Yiming’s heart tensed. Such formidable Totem Envoys, and not just one of them. The Wolf Totem Clan was truly terrifying in its ferocity. However, precisely because of this, the killing intent in He Yiming’s eyes intensified, becoming utterly unshakeable.

These people possessed resolute willpower; once they made an enemy of you, they would never relent. Clashing with them meant either you died, or they did—there was no room for compromise. He had underestimated the wolf nature before, leading to the tragedy of Shui Xuanjin’s death. Now, he would never repeat the same mistake.

He abruptly pulled back the greatsword in his hand, and the surrounding mist instantly vanished. Although the several Totem Envoys couldn't fathom his true intention, the momentum of their charge abruptly swelled by a full thirty percent. As they committed to their desperate attack, the wolf nature hidden within their bodies erupted completely.

He Yiming smiled coldly. Just as the wolf claws, the curved saber, and the long whip were about to make contact, his body suddenly blurred. In an instant, he vanished from his position. The long whip swept through the space where He Yiming had just stood, striking only a faint afterimage, achieving nothing else.

Halin and the others’ expressions immediately darkened, their hearts sinking heavily. This divine technique—they had seen it before on Shui Xuanjin. Among the Totem Clans, this was a supreme skill only achievable by Wind Element Saints. Perhaps certain thousand-year mutated Wind Spirit Beasts could employ it, but it was absolutely beyond the grasp of those at the level of Totem Envoys or Great Envoys. Yet, among the Outsiders, two had already displayed it. A thought flashed through their minds simultaneously: could the talent of the Outsiders actually surpass their own?

A piercing scream cut through the dead silence. By the time the numerous Totem Envoys reacted, they witnessed a sight they would never forget.

※※※※

The view within He Yiming’s eyes underwent an incredibly subtle transformation; all the wind seemed to warp and twist. Then, that strange line connecting two points with a single line appeared before him.

Taking one step, he seemed to transform into the wind itself—the omnipresent wind. In an instant, he traversed the distance between the two points, moving from one end of the group to the other. When he halted, the first thing he saw was a back.

It was the figure of a tall, powerfully built middle-aged man. In the Wolf Totem Clan, few possessed such a physique, making him exceptionally conspicuous. A mocking smile touched the corner of He Yiming’s mouth. Before he had advanced to the First Heaven realm, he could challenge seven innate masters simultaneously. Now that he had reached the First Heaven and wielded the great broadsword, why would he genuinely regard these Totem Envoys as a serious threat?

With a flick of his wrist, the great broadsword, weighing three hundred and sixty jin, floated effortlessly in his grasp. It moved like a cloud drifting in the sky, soft as the sash of a celestial maiden, drifting until it reached the very last Totem Envoy in line.

This Envoy was facing forward, his wolf claws bearing points of cold light, his body slightly crouched, readying himself for the second wave of attack. But he never anticipated that He Yiming would use such a method to suddenly appear behind him.

He was, after all, a master of the Innate realm. When He Yiming’s great broadsword drifted toward his waist, he reacted instantly. Life-or-death experiences in the jungle triggered an automatic response: he savagely brought his wolf claws down while arching his body with boneless flexibility. Only after completing this series of actions did the sudden thought strike him: Who is attacking me from behind?

His eyes widened abruptly, and he immediately thought of He Yiming, who had only left behind an afterimage before him. As these three names, like devils, surfaced in his mind, he felt a sharp pain in his fingers, followed by a chilling sensation at his waist. Unbearable agony instantly flooded his entire body, forcing an involuntary, wild howl from him.

He Yiming’s strike appeared ethereal and weak, but upon first contact with the opponent’s wolf claws, golden light erupted, shattering the specialized treasured weapon of the Totem Clan clean in two. Not only that, the powerful blade energy sliced off several of the man’s fingers that he hadn't managed to retract in time.

The force of the blade did not cease but pressed forward. Even though the Totem Envoy had already twisted his body to evade, how could he possibly escape He Yiming’s fully charged strike? The blade light was like snow; where the blade passed, blood sprayed... The man’s waist was lightly swept by the great broadsword, severing him clean in half.

The air filled with a strong, pungent smell of blood, and countless internal organs spilled out from the upper half of his body. His screams were utterly tragic, capable of stripping listeners of their resolve and leaving them distraught.

The eyes of the remaining seven Totem Envoys showed intense horror. After launching a full-force counter-attack, they had achieved no success, only to see one of their own fall in an instant. This reality dealt them a devastating blow. Unconsciously, a sharp howl rose again from the mouths of the seven, though compared to the first, the spirit in this cry had plummeted. Gone was the courage of a moment ago, where they had cast everything aside for a desperate strike.

Subsequently, the seven curled back into a circle, seemingly intending to rely on their bizarre wolf formation to withstand this formidable enemy. He Yiming flicked his greatsword, once again turning it into a vast cloud of mist that spread outwards. Simultaneously, that intense chilling aura permeated every single person, penetrating directly from their skin into their very core, suppressing every single will to resist that had begun to rise within them.

Waves of intense freezing energy crashed against them. Under the assault of such intense cold, the movements of the Envoys slowed involuntarily. Faint traces of blood began to seep from the corners of Halin and the others’ mouths. While struggling to resist, they had bitten their lips until they bled, allowing the scorching blood to flow into their stomachs to keep the vitality in their bodies circulating as much as possible.

All the Totem Envoys made the same choice; their inner wolf nature had been fully stimulated. However, from beginning to end, none of them were foolish enough to directly clash with the great broadsword in He Yiming’s hands. They leaped flexibly within their small circle, coordinating their movements. They were like seven wolves trapped in despair, desperately trying to prolong their time alive.

In the distance, a powerful aura was rapidly approaching. He Yiming finally let out a long sigh. His great broadsword spun once in mid-air and then halted suspended, like lightning striking down—he brought the blade down in one resolute chop. This strike condensed powerful Metal Element energy; it was the nineteenth form of the Thirty-Six Forms of Mountain Splitting. While it lacked the power to solidify the surrounding space, it was more than enough to deal with these Totem Envoys.

Halin and the others’ pupils contracted sharply. They instinctively retreated to either side, and the profound and mysterious wolf formation was shattered by this single, exceedingly simple strike. Breaking subtlety with brute force—this was the greatest demonstration of the power of the Thirty-Six Forms of Mountain Splitting.

The moment the seven scattered, He Yiming was already upon them, moving like a shadow. He raised his left hand, his palm slightly concave, and suddenly propelled it forward. A strange, needle-like True Qi shot out from his palm like lightning, piercing the arm of one Totem Envoy. The Hidden Needle Seal—a technique originally requiring two hand seals—had been simplified by He Yiming to a single-handed execution. Although its concealment was significantly reduced, now that he was a First Heaven expert, even such an overt True Qi attack could not be underestimated.

The Envoy, suspended in mid-air, had no time to dodge this sudden needle-like True Qi. He let out an angry grunt, concentrating his power in his left arm, intending to block the strike head-on. However, the moment this needle of True Qi penetrated his arm, his body instantly entered a state of rigidity. Although the amount of invading True Qi from He Yiming was small, this paralysis lasted only for the duration of one breath. But just as this Envoy was frantically circulating his True Qi to dispel the numbness, a sudden pain struck his neck, and he knew no more.

He Yiming’s great broadsword swept across, lightly claiming another life. Then, he roared, an outburst like thunder splitting the air, heavily impacting the ears and minds of the two men beside him. The two were momentarily disoriented, their minds swimming. Although He Yiming’s shout lacked the soul-confusing sound wave ability of the old Romia, the roar from the Dantian of a First Heaven expert was certainly no trivial matter.

The two unlucky Totem Envoys had just regained a sliver of clarity when they saw a strange streak of light before them. Immediately, their bodies froze stiff. He Yiming formed a seal with his left hand while holding the saber in his right, unleashing a swing that resembled a shooting star chasing the moon, carving a dazzling path across the sky. A white light flashed before the two, followed by plumes of bloody mist soaring into the air. Two miserable cries echoed as they fell from the sky, tumbling upon the snow-covered ground.

After He Yiming’s thunderous strike shattered the wolf formation, he pressed forward without hesitation. By combining the paralyzing efficacy of the Stone King technique with the invincible power of the great broadsword, he instantly annihilated three foes. Slaying three Innate-level Totem Envoys in an instant was like a giant mountain pressing down on the heads of Harvi and the four remaining Totem Envoys. Their capacity to endure completely collapsed; they dared not linger for another moment. Unconsciously, all four let out a wolf howl, then scattered in different directions.

Only Harvi fled toward the direction of Suoge and the Red Wolf King; the other three naturally chose the closest available escape route. In an instant, they left distinct trails etched in the snow as they bolted into the distance.

He Yiming laughed loudly, a sound brimming with unconcealed exhilaration—the joy of personally executing an enemy, the satisfaction of venting pent-up emotions. Yet, within this laughter was also a thread of faint sorrow. His gaze locked onto one specific figure, and he vanished in an instant.

That man was running swiftly when suddenly several wisps of snow drifted down from above his head. His face immediately turned ashen; he had not expected He Yiming to single him out first. He half-turned, catching a fleeting glimpse of a figure out of the corner of his eye, and instinctively slashed out with his curved saber. However, a massive force transmitted through the saber, rupturing his tiger’s mouth and shattering his weapon into fragments. Under the immense pressure, every piece of the broken saber pierced his body like shrapnel. His form instantly became a sieve riddled with holes, then saturated by the gushing blood.

He Yiming turned and walked away, lacking even the interest to deliver a finishing blow. If this person, injured so grievously, could somehow survive, He Yiming wouldn't mind letting him go. But with such catastrophic wounds, survival was impossible. As He Yiming turned, the man staggered for a long moment before finally collapsing, never to rise again.

His figure flashed like lightning, reappearing behind another fleeing Totem Envoy. Perhaps this man sensed something amiss behind him, but witnessing He Yiming slay his comrades with the ease of butchering chickens had already shattered his nerve. Though the Wolf Totem Clan dwelled deep in the mountains and possessed strong wills, even the most outstanding races had both warriors and cowards. This man possessed extremely high martial skill, but when faced with imminent death, he too became a craven fleeing for his life. When his life was most threatened, his potential erupted, and his speed was suddenly thirty percent faster than normal. But to He Yiming, this slight increase in speed was insignificant.

He swung his arm, and the nearly four-meter-long great broadsword descended like lightning, slashing diagonally across the man’s spine. As the man erupted in temporary, frantic roars of intense pain, He Yiming had already moved far away, appearing behind the third target. This man was Yimaier, ranking third among the ten Wolf Totem Envoys, second only to Yishibao, who was accompanied by a thousand-year spirit wolf, and Halin.

At this moment, he heard two screams, and a fear that made his scalp tingle seemed to emanate from behind him. In this critical juncture, a wry smile touched his lips. He knew perfectly well that this opponent commanded a supreme wind skill only possessed by Wind Saints, allowing him instantaneous, long-distance bursts of movement. Yet, under intense terror, they had chosen to scatter and flee. But against this man, how could they possibly escape?

His steps paused slightly. His twin claws radiated a strong cold light. Eight of the ten Totem Envoys who had set out were now dead; Halin absolutely could not be allowed to perish... He half-turned, his gaze holding an unyielding resolve—a desperate choice to inflict mutual destruction regardless of his own life, knowing death was certain. Since there was no path to survival, he would drag the enemy down with him.

However, just as he began to unleash a blizzard of claw shadows, he saw a slash of white light before him. He Yiming’s great broadsword simply hacked forward without reason, severing his steel claws and cleaving through his body, leaving only a shower of blood mist drifting in the air. He Yiming did not linger on him for even a second; his gaze had already shifted into the distance.

There, a man and a wolf were racing close to the snow, closing in with lightning speed. Before them, the sole remaining Totem Envoy, Halin, ran desperately, seeing Suoge as her only savior.