Scattered across the snow-covered expanse were sparse clusters of dense forest, resembling dead trees. In the very center of this wide, white field stood four figures. Leading them was a girl dressed in snow-white robes, appearing no older than eighteen or nineteen, with a cascade of black hair billowing in the wind. Her eyes were like a lake washed clean by rain—pure, clear, and bright enough to reflect every speck of defilement in the world. Yet, her youthful face held an air of mature composure and coolness, her body positioned just so, shielding the three behind her.

These three comprised an old man and a stunningly handsome pair—a man and a woman. Each of them radiated a terrifying aura, yet they were compelled to hide behind the white-clad girl, linking their energies together to form a sturdy barrier.

This barrier, however, felt as illusory as mere air; it offered no real protection, providing only a fragile comfort to their hearts.

Outside this quartet, scattered across the sloping hillside, stood seventy or eighty figures. Some clustered together, others spread out. Though they held the absolute advantage in numbers, their faces were etched with grimness and stark terror. Their gazes bypassed the three figures protected behind the girl entirely, instead focusing like sharp needles solely upon her—or, perhaps more accurately, upon her hand.

In her grasp, she held an exquisite, snow-white longsword. The scabbard, frost-like and pure as snow, was adorned with intricate carvings that traced delicate, fine patterns. At its center rested a tear-shaped, milky-white gemstone, reflecting a pure, soft white light. The stone’s deep contours made it resemble a cold, solitary pupil.

Though the blade remained sheathed, a biting sword energy swept across the heavens and earth with untamed ferocity. It felt as if every person present had such a sword hanging three feet above their head!

This white sword exuded a vast, righteous presence, its chilling, sharp radiance making everything worldly seem small and humble beneath its cool, aloof, yet gently piercing cold light.

The seventy or eighty figures remained rooted to the spot, daring not to move. The very atmosphere across the snowy slope seemed to have solidified into ice.

The three figures behind the girl also appeared to hold their breath.

“You,” Ye Zhuzi said, wielding the blade belonging to the Goddess of Light, her snow-white attire seeming to emanate an endless, gentle glow as she swept her gaze across them with cold indifference. “Move aside.”

Those two softly spoken, aloof words struck like the massive arms pushing open a giant gate, carrying a mountain-toppling momentum that sent a wave of coldness surging into every heart, making the hairs on their spines stand up like porcupine quills.

From the scattered groups in the surroundings, a figure slowly walked forward from the position directly opposite Ye Zhu. He was a tall, handsome man whose soaring blue eyebrows were sharp as daggers. His classically beautiful, almost feminine features held an expression of cold detachment, and even his typically gentle eyes now flashed with sharp, icy light.

“Stop!” His voice was resonant and cold. “Behind me lies the Divine Mountain. It is not something you can profane. Though your power is great, breaking through our blockade is utterly impossible! I do not wish to cause unnecessary casualties; pressing this to the end will not benefit you. If the Emissary Lord is alerted, you won’t even have a chance to leave!”

Ye Zhu stared at him for a moment, then slowly lowered her gaze to the sword in her hand. “I said it again… Move aside!” Her voice was slow, as if each syllable were being deliberately pronounced. From her delicate frame, a surging energy began to release—a torrent as vast and immense as the starry cosmos. The scabbard of the sword in her hand emitted an even more potent, soft radiance.

Everyone, including the handsome man, showed a flicker of alarm, their hearts sinking.

Ye Zhu’s clear eyes glinted with an indifference that regarded all things as insignificant. She swept her gaze over the crowd, then tilted her head back, looking at the three behind her, and whispered, “Come in.”

Her slender hand grasped at empty air, and a swirling, pitch-black vortex materialized.

The stooped old man, Suoxi, and Xuena all paused, exchanging a glance with Ye Zhu as if debating, before finally sighing deeply in their hearts. They swiftly darted into the vortex, drawn into the personal space Ye Zhu carried close to her body.

“Arrow of Time!”

Suddenly, a sharp cry echoed. A figure materialized out of thin air, appearing ghost-like right behind Ye Zhu. She held a snow-white longbow. It lacked a physical string, but as her hand pulled back, two straight beams of white light shot from the bow’s nocking point, joining to form a string, which her long, slender fingers drew tautly backward.

The space before her twisted like ripples on water. From this distortion, several streams of transparent energy flowed out, spiraling rapidly towards the space between her fingers. The moment she released the tension, several sharp, translucent arrows shot toward the center of Ye Zhu’s back.

This process sounded protracted, but in reality, it happened in the instant after the black-robed woman appeared—too fast for anyone to react.

Ye Zhu was still turned, watching Suoxi and the others enter her personal space. However, as the cluster of transparent arrows hurtled toward her, the sword in her hand suddenly swept upward. Ripples disturbed the very air, as if countless invisible restraints had been severed. Those transparent arrows were instantly cleaved, shattering into streams of clear energy that vanished without a trace.

At that moment, the black vortex slowly contracted, shrinking into a single black dot before disappearing entirely.

Ye Zhu slowly turned around, facing the suddenly appearing black-robed woman. Her snow-like complexion seemed even whiter against the backdrop of the dark robe. Her delicate face was exquisite, but now it was covered in shock. “How is this possible? My Arrow of Time—no one can withstand it! It is absolutely impossible to block, because it is Time itself! How could it be resisted!”

Indeed, no one could resist Time.

Time was the most terrifying weapon in the world.

It could bring forth life, and it could extinguish it. It could even toy with existence, leaving life merely an empty shell while stripping away affections, hatreds, joys, and sorrows under the torment of endless duration.

The final result was a serene detachment born from seeing through everything.

In truth, it was the despair and sorrow of comprehending the terror of time and the inability to alter it.

Yet, those arrows of time had just been countered.

Could it be that only the eternal light could overcome the torment of time?

A soft, white luminescence clung to the sword’s scabbard, resembling a clump of downy white cotton wrapping around it. Ye Zhu’s slender fingers tightened their grip; the sword hilt seemed about to merge into her palm. Then, she slowly took a single step forward.

The entire vast sky seemed to suddenly dim.

“Die,” a light, cold voice echoed through the air, falling like raindrops on a lake.

On the chest of the black-robed woman, a pinpoint of light appeared, compressed to its absolute extreme. This spot instantly expanded, radiating a terrifying, dazzling light that engulfed her body amidst a scream of utter terror.

She fell like a brilliant, blazing sun.

No one had seen how Ye Zhu drew her sword, nor had they witnessed any other movement from her. Yet, the black-robed woman was inexplicably, dead.

“Die.”

Ye Zhu held her sword, her hair—soft as black jade—whipping in the wind. Her long robes snapped loudly in the icy air. She murmured the word again softly, then took another step.

To her immediate side, closest in the front direction, a man in a silver-white robe suddenly clutched his chest, crying out in agony. Brilliant white light erupted from within his body, as if countless sharp swords were piercing and tearing him apart, ripping through his scalp, until he was completely swallowed by the radiance.

Then, with a loud bang, he exploded.

Countless fragments of bloody tissue sprayed onto the snow like raindrops, still emitting wisps of rising heat.

“Die!”

Ye Zhu took another step.

Bang!

Another one perished.

“Die!”

Another step, another death.

She moved like a demonic maiden stepping out of hell, wielding the purest blade of the Goddess of Light. With every step she took, the nearest person would suddenly detonate, dying instantly without the slightest chance to resist.

One step, one death.

Dim light pierced through the thick clouds, illuminating the snowscape. The once wide, white expanse was now speckled with shattered white flesh, blood clots, and the intestines and organs that had been expelled from human bodies—a spectacle of indescribable gore and terror.

Those who had been tightly surrounding them were now dispersed as if by an invisible flood, arranging themselves in a loose semi-circle around Ye Zhu. Fear and disbelief filled every face. They could not comprehend looking at this delicate girl and the scattered remains of their comrades. A person standing beside them one moment would explode into a pile of minced flesh the next!

Deep terror struck their hearts like the beat of massive drums. Ye Zhu’s measured footsteps were like a butcher’s cleaver. With every step she took, the onlookers couldn't help but flinch. Of the original seventy or eighty people, more than ten perished in the blink of an eye.

No one dared to attack!

No one was willing to launch an assault against a monster of unknown depth—it was equivalent to a suicide mission!

Even when faced with death under such duress, humans possess a strange quality: the persistent belief that a miracle or stroke of luck might occur.

This hopeful thought often brought consequences of devastating magnitude.

Even the cost of life itself.

What was most despairing was that since her appearance, Ye Zhu had not truly swung the sheathed sword for close combat. Usually, a mere wave of her hand would unleash an immeasurable force, shattering all attacks and defenses, striking the enemy directly.

And…

This sword remained sheathed.

As everyone retreated in terror, as if facing a primeval beast, a rolling thunder suddenly sounded in the distant, dim sky. The thunder was so immense it felt as if the entire sky had been shattered apart.

Even those present, individuals capable of shattering worlds with a mere stomp, couldn't help but change expression and involuntarily look up toward the heavens.

Ye Zhu, who had been advancing steadily, paused slightly, her brow furrowing faintly as she, too, looked skyward. (To be continued)