The Abyss of Dead Souls. Across the desolate, inky plains, hulking masses of rock, black as funerary shrouds, swayed against the silhouette of sparse grass, resembling reefs battered by furious waves. Within a hollow pocket amidst this stone graveyard, the flickering glow of a campfire illuminated Ye Chen and Mike, casting warm light upon them and igniting twin flames within their obsidian eyes.

A fire, indeed, burned within Ye Chen’s heart.

Mike had offered to impart to him all twelve of his lifelong secret energy manuals! These twelve manuals contained supreme energy principles, and most miraculously, the twelve energies possessed a strange resonance with one another, allowing them to interweave. This synergy filtered the internal energy, refining it, making it infinitely more potent.

Though aware of Mike’s underlying agenda, Ye Chen felt a thrilling surge. He listened intently as Mike explained the synergy between the twelve energies, committing the subtleties to memory before posing questions about the points he didn't grasp. Mike smiled patiently, offering clear explanations.

They conversed there, question and answer flowing between them like master and friend. Beside them, Xiao Lin’s eyelids grew heavy with drowsiness. Due to the fundamental difference in her life-tissue structure, Mike transmitted the true essence of the twelve energies directly into Ye Chen’s mind. Thus, all Xiao Lin heard were fragmented words. If she tried to cultivate these secrets herself, she would inevitably suffer backlash and succumb to inner chaos. Consequently, she gave up listening entirely, coiling herself near the warmth of the fire. The gentle yellow light shimmered across her fine, pale-green scales, each one exquisitely carved and catching a faint, sharp gleam.

“This is the Power of Ice and Snow,” Mike said, smiling as he clenched his palm in the empty air. The surrounding temperature plummeted instantly, the very atmosphere threatening to freeze. The campfire’s light sputtered, beginning to congeal. With a delicate point of his finger, Mike erected a small barrier beside the flames before continuing his demonstration. “Ice and snow can freeze everything in existence, be it object or life! But the true might of ice and snow lies in its ability to freeze emotion, to freeze time—to halt the passage of moments, to solidify the rivers, and turn oceans into glaciers…”

Ye Chen listened with focused intensity, utterly engrossed.

Above Mike’s head, a beautiful, scroll-like phantom unfurled, illustrating the process of mountains freezing over and rivers turning to ice. As Mike spoke, the ocean depicted in the vision rapidly solidified into an endless expanse of frozen white.

“I see,” Ye Chen murmured internally, making a mental note.

The base of the Divine Mountain.

“Shhhwaaa...”

A sound like wind whipping across ice, yet also like rushing water, echoed near the edge of a dark recess. Standing there was a hulking, demonic silhouette, devoid of any light, appearing as nothing more than a shadow. Only beneath thick brows could one discern a pair of scarlet eyes, blazing with savagery and bloodlust—eyes utterly unlike those of a human.

Before him, eight envoys stood rigid. Their throats bobbed, mouths slightly agape, unable to utter a single word. Cold sweat traced paths down their faces, and an icy chill permeated their palms and spines. Fear, liquid and heavy, filled their bodies, paralyzing even their fingers.

The monstrous, muscular figure slowly emerged from the inky recess. The soft glow emanating from the crystal walls bathed his form, revealing a bronzed, darkened chest exposed to the air, radiating raw sexuality and untamed vigor. His eyes swept over the three female envoys among the eight, blazing with the most primal desire.

As those eyes passed over them, the three female envoys felt as if their clothes had been stripped away, leaving behind an unbearable, chilling sensation.

On the hulking figure’s hand, fingernails sharpened like those of an ape. Milk-white blood seeped slowly from beneath them, emitting a delicate fragrance rather than the rich, metallic scent of red blood—a scent reminiscent of the deep woods.

Behind him, near the edge of the black recess, seven or eight corpses lay sprawled. In the deeper darkness where light could not penetrate, smudges of blood and scattered limbs were vaguely visible. The entire dark cavity resembled a pathway to hell, paved with gore and bone.

“Blue Light!” the figure rumbled in a guttural tone. “You sought me out merely to deliver these puppets?”

The elderly man in the blue robe forced a strained smile. “Great Emissary, I came because we have encountered a grave problem in the Snow Domain. Our current strength is insufficient to resist it; we can only beg for your aid.”

“What is it?” The man’s blood-red eyes locked onto him.

The elder hesitated. “It is the Bronze Sovereign from the Chaos Realm. He has entered the Snow Domain. Water Light and the others went to intercept him but were slain. He is likely arriving outside the Divine Mountain soon.”

“What!” A sharp, cold glint flashed in the muscular man’s pupils. “Who allowed you to provoke the Bronze Sovereign?”

The blue-robed elder offered a wry smile. “We did not provoke him; he tore open a spatial passage himself. Someone in the Snow Domain—I do not know who—broke through a cultivation realm and opened a channel to the Chaos Realm, and then he descended. I know this sounds bizarre, unbelievable, but that is the truth.”

The man’s crimson pupils fixed coldly on the elder. After a long moment, he turned, gazing back toward the inky recess. “I sensed you earlier—hiding there all this time. Come out!”

The eight envoys started, looking toward the black opening, confusion clouding their minds. Had another Snow Slave managed to infiltrate the compound?

They recalled that long age ago, one peerless Snow Slave had accidentally slipped in here during a routine inspection, discovered a monumental secret, and ultimately turned traitorous...

As the eight envoys frowned and focused their gaze, no one noticed the slight, almost ignoble smile that touched the corner of the blue-robed elder’s mouth.

In the silence where even breath seemed suspended, the black recess remained still. Just as the tension became unbearable, a light, crisp, and mocking sound of footsteps arose, slowly growing louder. Step by measured step, a vague white shape emerged, gradually becoming clearer. “It’s her!” The eight envoys recognized the newcomer and gasped, their pupils contracting sharply.

Only the muscular man’s expression remained unchanged. His blood-red eyes fixed upon the approaching white shadow—a woman like a pale lotus, clad in immaculate white robes, holding a silvery-white longsword. Her light, exquisitely crafted boots tapped softly against the floor as she stepped fully out.

The peak of the Divine Mountain.

“CRASH!”

A colossal sound of tumbling rock erupted beside the palace carved from ice crystals. The guardian stone before the magnificent structure was struck violently by a white figure, shattering into fragments with a deafening boom. Through the gap in the debris, Sefilan’s figure lay slumped, coated in thick, viscous blood. Her hair, matted as if soaked in a bloodbath, clung together, revealing one gaping hole where a part of her body was visible outside the stone shrapnel.

Her face was utterly drained of color, her lips pale as twin knife edges. She gasped for breath, her life flickering weakly, while delicate, multi-hued runes pulsed along her arm.

“Sister...” Zero floated next to the Bronze Sovereign, his body held fast as if grasped by an invisible hand, kicking and struggling uselessly. Seeing Sefilan flung away, he cried out involuntarily.

The Bronze Sovereign watched him with amusement. “If you beg me now, offer yourself up to be consumed, I will release your sister.”

Zero’s body convulsed, and his struggles ceased. He turned his head—or rather, glared fiercely—at the Sovereign, his expression a mixture of searing anger and profound sorrow. He spoke with grim seriousness, “You swear you will keep your word?”

“Absolutely,” the Bronze Sovereign’s smile widened.

“Fine, I agree,” Zero replied without hesitation.

The Bronze Sovereign chuckled. “You asked for it?”

“Yes!” Zero ground his teeth, clenching his fist in humiliated assent.

“Very well then.” The Bronze Sovereign placed a hand on his forehead. “A compassionate soul such as myself never takes a life. But since you have pleaded so desperately, I shall do one good deed. Ah, it is so hard to be a good person.” His expression was one of immense, feigned sighing and helplessness.

Zero turned away, fearing he might vomit if he watched any longer.

“It is too early to say that!” A chilling, elegant, yet icy voice rang out from within the shattered stones. Immediately, vibrant, rainbow-colored markings flared across the broken rock, spreading like fire. Then, space warped, and countless needle-like beams of white light erupted from the debris, forming a vast, luminous white sphere.

The light was almost blinding. As it dimmed slightly, a tall, graceful silhouette slowly materialized within. Her silver-white robes were pristine, unsoiled. The silver-white hood was raised, revealing eyes as cold as frost, staring fixedly at the Bronze Sovereign.

“Oh? Time Reversal, quite impressive. You were practically dead, yet you reversed time back to the moment just before the injury, making yourself whole again.” The Bronze Sovereign smiled, observing the perfectly intact guardian stone and Sefilan. “The envoys of the Time Realm certainly have robust lives.”

“Release him!” Sefilan hissed through clenched teeth.

The Bronze Sovereign looked down at her, a sinister aura flickering across his handsome features. “Do you think that grants you the capital to speak before me? A mere Time Reversal—if I were to thoroughly muddle the entire temporal segment here, how would you revive yourself then?”

He gestured sharply, and the surrounding sky emitted a cracking sound, like stretched silk snapping taut, followed by tearing noises. Streaks of rainbow light appeared overhead. Countless bands of seven-colored light crisscrossed the sky and space above and around the entire Divine Mountain, resembling wounds torn across reality itself.

“Chaos Return Hand!” The Bronze Sovereign’s eyes turned ruthless. He slammed his palm downward, unleashing a torrent of grey-white energy that rapidly coalesced into a gigantic hand, which he brought smashing down toward Sefilan.

Sefilan’s pupils constricted violently. She retreated rapidly, but in her struggle, she discovered in terror that her body was fixed by some mysterious energy, utterly immobile. Her feet felt sunk deep in mud, offering no purchase.

“Time Shift.” She gritted her teeth and formed a seal with her fingers. (To be continued)