The Icy Hell lived up to its name, perpetually sealed in eternal frost. Apart from the secluded paradises carved out by those with great divine powers, the rest of the territory was truly a living hell—a place where even iron chains would shatter into fragments, and steel refined would be ground to dust by the savage gales.

It was a brutal place, and a merciless one.

Any creature that managed to survive here was an immensely powerful, savagely primal, and bloodthirsty powerhouse. Weaker beings faced only two possible fates: being swallowed whole to satisfy hunger, or having their vital essence entirely drained to serve as sustenance for others.

Iron Ridge Mountain was a range spanning over thirty thousand li within the Icy Hell, yet it was considered only a minor formation.

Black Wind Valley, covering over two thousand li, consisted of a complex network of more than thirty ravines. Black winds perpetually raged within, swirling white snow into the air. This area possessed the most severe natural conditions, the poorest resources, and the lowest density of life in the entire Iron Ridge.

Centered within one of these valleys, beneath a thicket of iron-branched shrubs, lay a small opening barely large enough for a child of seven or eight to squeeze through. Below this tiny entrance stretched an earth cavern about five or six zhang wide.

The temperature inside the small cavern was barely better than the outside, only just managing to ward off the agony of the cutting cold winds. In a corner of the burrow, a tiny spring bubbled—a murky pool perhaps the size of a water vat, only a foot or so deep. Occasionally, bubbles would rise to the surface, carrying a faint wisp of warm vapor. It was because of this spring eye that this particular corner held a slightly higher temperature.

Several small figures lay listlessly near the spring, weak wolf cubs colored a dusky greenish-black, their fur matted and ragged. They were perhaps four or five chi long, each one emaciated to the bone, their sickly green eyes blazing only with desperate hunger.

One cub, too weak from hunger to stand, was gnawing frantically at its own foreleg, tearing off tufts of fur in its desperate attempt to chew. Saliva dripped audibly from its mouth. This cub was utterly starved; its body occasionally shuddered, letting out low, mournful groans.

Standing guard at the mouth of the cave was a small wolf demon, standing upright on two legs, measuring less than five chi tall, yet retaining its wolf's head and claws. He cautiously inspected the poorly made, lowest-grade immortal artifact flying dagger strapped to his waist, and a similarly shoddy, lowest-grade immortal artifact snare coiled nearby.

This little wolf demon possessed only the cultivation of the Great Perfection stage of Golden Core. Because his cultivation technique was mediocre, he had failed to achieve a complete human transformation during his shape-shifting. In the burrow, he was the only one among them still capable of movement.

Glancing back at his five younger brothers struggling by the spring, the wolf demon named Red Fang, his eyes bloodshot, fished out half a shaggy wolf paw from his pouch. He began gnawing on it mouthful by mouthful, slowly grinding and swallowing the flesh and bone together.

Though at the Great Perfection of Golden Core, in the Icy Hell, the biting winds and blizzards rapidly drained the stamina and energy of Golden Core cultivators. Without constant, massive food replenishment, Red Fang could only remain outside for about an hour before freezing into a walking corpse.

The wolf paw in his hand was the last remnant left by the mother of Red Fang and his five brothers—it was a portion of their mother's forearm.

In the Icy Hell, consuming the flesh of deceased elders to sustain the young was the unavoidable choice for all weak beings. Though seemingly cruel, it was the only path to survival in this realm.

After devouring the last scrap of flesh from his mother, Red Fang turned back to look at his brothers, all fading toward death. He then deftly slipped out of the earth-hole and vanished into the swirling snow and wind outside. One of the wolf cubs suddenly forced its eyes open, whimpering weakly, "Red Fang, don't go out! You'll die! You’ll die!" The blizzard, whipped up by the gale, howled past. Red Fang couldn't hear his brother's cry.

Even if he had heard, what then? Red Fang gritted his pale teeth, sticking close to the valley wall as he darted forward.

If he didn't find food, they would all perish.

Five years prior, Red Fang's family lived moderately well. Their father had been a formidable Heavenly Immortal-ranked Demon Immortal residing on a peak of Iron Ridge; their family had at least been secure in food and clothing. But when their father answered the summons of the Iron Ridge Demon King to battle the neighboring Blood Soul Ridge Demon King and was killed, the family instantly plummeted into an abyss.

Their mother, merely a First Grade Heavenly Immortal, had managed to protect the six cubs for five years, only to be killed unjustly over some trivial matter. In her final moments, she expended every ounce of her remaining power to help Red Fang successfully complete his transformation, barely granting him the cultivation of Great Perfection Golden Core.

Relying on this negligible strength, Red Fang guided his brothers to hide in this remote valley, surviving three months solely on their mother's remains. But now, even the last claw of their mother had been consumed. If no food was found soon, all six wolf cubs would starve to death, becoming the next meal for the scavenging insects.

He could not let his brothers die; Red Fang himself had no desire to perish. He still dreamed of becoming a powerful entity like the Iron Ridge Demon King—he yearned for meat every day, wine every night, and to live without the shadow of death looming overhead.

Meat! Wine!

A droplet of saliva slid from Red Fang's mouth, instantly vaporized into ice shards by the biting wind and blown far away. A fierce, predatory glint flashed in his eyes. He recalled a jar of fine wine his father had once brought home—a reward from the Iron Ridge Demon King after their father achieved some merit. That had been a truly marvelous thing, warming the body and making one forget the terror of the Icy Hell.

Letting out a few low, dry chuckles, Red Fang tightly gripped the flying dagger and the snare, slowly making his way toward the hunting spot he had scouted days before.

It was a pool fed by a subterranean hot spring at the valley's end. The air hung thick with the scent of sulfur, and the water was scalding hot—perfect for cooking meat. Emerald water grasses drifted in the pool, and water-dwelling Demon Fish swam to and fro. Occasionally, several of these Demon Fish broke the surface, casting suspicious glances around. Their long, dark backs sliced through the water like legendary flood dragons.

These Demon Fish were not easy prey. Though their inherent low intelligence meant they rarely achieved human form, their cultivation was genuine. The strongest among them were rumored to have reached Nascent Soul stage; even un-transformed, they could easily dispatch Red Fang.

Red Fang’s target was the "Snow Rabbits" that appeared precisely at noon every day to drink from the small streams flowing out of the pool. These rabbit demons were two sizes larger than Red Fang, their fur brilliantly white like untouched snow. Each one was enough sustenance to keep the six brothers alive for half a year.

However, these Snow Rabbits were incredibly fast runners. Though they possessed little magical cultivation, their brute strength was immense; a single kick from their hind legs often resulted in broken bones for ordinary demons. Furthermore, Snow Rabbit meat was highly prized, attracting stronger demons to hunt here as well. A single misstep, and a small demon like Red Fang could easily end up as someone else's meal. A Great Perfection Golden Core demon core was quite the valuable tonic.

Clutching his dagger and snare, Red Fang cautiously skirted the main hot spring pool at the valley's edge. By a tributary stream flowing from the pool, he dug a snow pit and slowly buried himself within it. Based on his previous observations, this was the most ideal ambush location; the Snow Rabbits were guaranteed to pass this spot when coming to drink.

He had only one chance to strike. If the first attempt failed, he had to seize the prey immediately and flee, or Red Fang would certainly die.

Hoping he could run faster than those damned rabbits, Red Fang squinted, silently praying.

He didn't know how long he’d been buried in the snow pit when the ground suddenly began to tremble faintly. A dull thudding of running echoed from the distance. A tide of Snow Rabbits, each as large as a calf, were racing toward the stream—nearly ten thousand strong, surging like a tidal wave. The sheer force generated by nearly ten thousand running rabbits was something no demon below the Nascent Soul stage dared to confront. These accursed rabbits had delicious meat, certainly, but their fur was incredibly tough, and their strength formidable. Even a Nascent Soul demon could suffer broken bones if struck carelessly; being trampled to death by a herd of plump, sturdy rabbits would be an ignominious end.

Black Wind Valley was too cold. The hot spring hidden deep underground harbored a strange source of heat, requiring all life forms to constantly replenish their internal reserves with the spring water to harness this energy for perpetuation. For the Snow Rabbits, the most populous species in the valley, obtaining the hot spring water regularly was vital.

These damned rabbits fed on the omnipresent iron-branched shrubs throughout Black Wind Valley, thus facing no survival pressure. They also lacked aptitude for cultivation; their greatest daily pastime was reproduction. A single competent pair of Snow Rabbits could birth a litter every half-month. Consequently, despite the constant hunting pressure from the demons of Black Wind Valley, the Snow Rabbit population remained robust.

Red Fang gripped his flying dagger tightly. While hunting Snow Rabbits was easy for other demons, for him, it was extremely precarious.

The ground beside him shook violently. Great masses of silver-white shapes streaked past the edge of his snow pit. A few nearly stepped directly on Red Fang.

With eyes turning crimson, Red Fang stared fixedly at the plump, lovely rabbits, drool pouring from his mouth. He held the dagger tight, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. His ears swiveled rapidly left and right, listening intently to the surroundings; his nose twitched spasmodically, nervously sniffing the air.

Every few breaths, some demon might come hunting the Snow Rabbits for a quick meal. Red Fang hoped he wouldn't be unlucky enough to encounter them.

In less than two or three breaths, the great herd reached the stream bank. Nearly ten thousand white, plump, and adorable rabbits lined up uniformly along the water's edge, dipping their heads neatly to drink. Their long ears twitched left and right in unison, cautiously listening to the movements around them.

"Gurgle, little gurgle," sounds echoed from the full bellies of the rabbits. Satisfied, they lifted their heads, shaking their massive bodies vigorously. The ripples of flesh could be seen visibly rolling across their plump haunches.

This was it. Red Fang shrieked, his small body erupting from the snow pit. The flying dagger cut a ghastly green arc toward a Snow Rabbit barely within striking distance. The sharp blade pierced the throat of the foolish rabbit effortlessly.

The snare shot out like a striking snake, tightly binding the rabbit that had instantly lost its life.

Red Fang let out a joyous, heaven-piercing howl. He sprang off the dead rabbit's body, gripped the snare in both hands, and began dragging the creature—weighing at least five hundred jin—back the way he came.

Heaven itself seemed to be aiding Red Fang. A sudden, localized tornado swept across the ground, lifting vast clouds of fine, powdery snow particles. Visibility near the stream instantly dropped to zero. Red Fang was incredibly fast; in a few breaths, he had dragged the now-stiffening carcass nearly three li away from the scene.

Everything was going smoothly. Red Fang, grinning with relief, dropped his dagger to drag the snare forward at full speed.

What a pity that his cultivation was insufficient to control an immortal-grade flying dagger for aerial travel. If he had just an ordinary magical artifact or a spirit artifact, it would have been perfect. With artifact flight, he would already be twenty or thirty li away.

But this was enough. Those dead rabbits wouldn't care about the fate of one companion. He was safe; his five brothers would live!

While celebrating his success and sprinting forward at top speed, Red Fang was abruptly struck by a violent force swooping down from above. A searing pain tore through both shoulders, and great sprays of blood erupted from the gashes. A pair of razor-sharp steel claws had ripped open his shoulders, crushing the scapulae into powder.

Both arms instantly went limp. The snare slipped from his grasp with a snap. Red Fang screamed, stumbling forward a couple of paces before losing balance entirely, tumbling over and over for more than ten zhang.

The harsh wind struck his face, sweeping away the heavy snow. Red Fang crashed heavily onto the ground, taking a long moment to regain the meager strength to lift his head. His heart plummeted, sinking deep into despair.

Before him stood nine demons. They wore uniform black iron armor, and the markings on their chests identified them all as subordinates of the Iron Ridge Demon King. In the sky above, a massive black eagle with a wingspan exceeding ten zhang circled—nine demons on the ground plus the eagle made ten, the standard configuration for an Iron Ridge patrol squad.

Red Fang's torn shoulders were instantly frozen solid, forming bright crimson ice chunks hanging grotesquely from the wounds.

Wind, intense cold, and severe injury rapidly consumed Red Fang's stamina and spiritual power. His body trembled, and his vision darkened in patches.

Yet, he forced a weak smile onto his face. Miserably, he managed to stand up from the snow, then deliberately knelt heavily before the nine demons.

Humbly pressing his forehead to the frozen earth, Red Fang offered a fawning smile, "Esteemed seniors, where have I offended you? I beg you, seeing my youth and ignorance, treat me as nothing more than a passing fart and let me go!"

As he spoke these words, droplets of blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. He had bitten his own tongue until it bled, and the blood continued to drip down.

In the crushing environment of the Icy Hell, sheer power dictated everything. To survive in this damnable place, one must either be stronger than everyone else or debase oneself completely, begging for the mercy of the strong.

The nine patrolling demons were likely at the early Nascent Soul stage. The black eagle hovering overhead, radiating a terrifying aura, was at least at the mid-Nascent Soul stage. If Red Fang's parents were still alive, these ten demons wouldn't even be qualified to lick the boots of the Iron Ridge Demon King. But without their protection, Red Fang could only accept his fate, kneeling on the ground to beg these lesser demons for his life.

All ten demons burst into laughter, especially the black eagle overhead, whose cackling grew increasingly unrestrained.

"Brothers, this is the little mongrel of our former Captain! Wonder if his meat tastes good?"

The other demons began drooling. A Tiger Demon grabbed Red Fang, leaning in to lick his face heavily. The Tiger Demon’s tongue was lined with sharp barbs, and as it scraped across Red Fang's cheek, a layer of skin peeled away, weeping fresh blood.

"Don't know about the meat, but the blood tastes fine!" the Tiger Demon grinned greedily at Red Fang. "Brothers, how much meat can this skinny thing offer? We should get his brothers too. We can roast them all! Ha! Back when their bastard father was Captain, he used to beat and scold us daily!"

The black eagle swooped down, letting out a piercing screech as it transformed into a thin, dark middle-aged man.

He seized Red Fang by the throat and roared, "Where are your other brothers?" The black eagle paused, then sneered, "Tell us where your brothers are, and I'll let you go!"

Red Fang stared back, panting raggedly, "Hoo-shh, hoo-shh."

The black eagle grew impatient and slapped Red Fang hard across the face, shouting fiercely, "Where are your brothers? Tell me! I'll let you live! We’ll eat your brothers, and you can survive. Didn't you hear me?"

Red Fang gasped for air a few times, then suddenly said in a low voice, "Put me down, and I'll lead you to my brothers!"

The black eagle and the other demons erupted in booming laughter. The black eagle smugly released Red Fang, immediately kicking him hard in the rear.

Red Fang snatched up the captured Snow Rabbit and the flying dagger he had dropped with his mouth, lowered his head, and led the way.

The ten demons followed gleefully behind Red Fang, happily plotting how best to savor his brothers.

After a grueling hour of trekking, Red Fang silently guided the ten demons to the entrance of the burrow where his brothers were hidden. He first lowered his head to push the Snow Rabbit he had killed into the hole, then slowly straightened up, offering the ten demons a strange, unsettling smile.

"What are you smiling at?" the black eagle asked suspiciously. "Your brothers are inside?"

Red Fang suddenly spat out a massive gout of blood. A terrifying power, one that struck the black eagle and the nine demons with dread, erupted from within his body.

Opening his mouth wide, a pillar of blood mixed with a fist-sized demon core shot out. That core was enveloped in dazzling firelight and was expanding rapidly. Red Fang directed the core toward the black eagle and the other demons, roaring fiercely, "If I die, we all die together! Heh heh, my brothers can live!"

A self-detonating demon core. At such close range, the explosion of a Great Perfection Golden Core would be devastating even to Nascent Soul cultivators.

The demons were terrified out of their wits; they stared blankly at the core, their minds a void. Didn't they agree to let the wolf go? Why is he fighting to the death? Self-destructing his core? Has he gone mad?

Just as the Golden Core was about to detonate, a hand faintly trailing moisture reached in from the side and grasped Red Fang's core.

A gentle aura enveloped the core, instantly smoothing out the chaotic spiritual power within.

"You little demon, not bad! Worth my effort to save you!"

A figure clad in a pale green Daoist robe, Gu Xiecun, materialized out of the swirling snow.