Chapter Thirty-Four: The Frozen Cavern

Before them stretched a hill blanketed in ice and snow. The two men halted in unison, exchanging a glance filled with dread. Upon the hill, layers upon layers of glaciers overlapped, their cerulean brilliance dazzling and painful to the eye beneath the winter sun. Below these glaciers, a vast and shadowy cavern gaped like the maw of some ferocious beast, its entrance rimmed with jagged icicles hanging like fangs. The darkness within was unfathomable, its depths unknown, and from time to time shouts and roars echoed out, lending the place an even greater sense of fear.

A bitter wind gusted past, and Lin Feng shivered involuntarily. He frowned and said, “This must be the Ice Cavern. Brother Mingxin, we must be extremely cautious inside.”

Mingxin shot him a look, his expression growing grave. He nodded, and together they stepped into the cave, one behind the other. Within, the chill was bone-deep, the cold seeping through their boots. Overhead, thick ice stalactites loomed menacingly—one falling would skewer a man like a candied hawthorn.

The monk Mingxin raised his prayer bowl, and a sudden burst of golden light illuminated the cave as if it were daylight, banishing some of the cold. They had not gone a hundred paces before the sound of clashing metal and the unending roars of beasts reached them from deep within the cave, draining the color from their faces.

The cavern seemed to descend endlessly into the earth, the permafrost and ice growing thicker and denser. Who could say what monstrous creatures lurked in its depths?

Lin Feng hesitated, uncertain whether to proceed, when Mingxin suddenly cried out, “Brother Lin, look!”

Startled, Lin Feng peered ahead. There, deep within the cave, stood countless human-shaped ice sculptures—some standing, some reclining, all lifelike in their postures. Their faces were frozen in expressions of terror, preserved at the moment of their doom. At closer range, the sight was even more chilling, and the air seemed to grow colder.

“Brother Mingxin, what do you think caused this?” Lin Feng recognized a few familiar faces among the frozen forms—warriors they had seen just yesterday in Willow Town.

The monk’s face was grim, but he only shook his head.

The two advanced even more cautiously, but the more careful one is, the more trouble finds them. With a clang, Lin Feng tripped over something hard, his brow striking a cold object. There was a crack, and whatever he had hit snapped in two. Clutching his head, he looked down to see that he had broken a frozen man in half, spilling entrails and blood all over him.

His stomach heaved, but he forced himself to steady his mind. He realized that what had tripped him was a spear, frozen solid. Overjoyed, he hacked the ice away and seized the weapon. Ordinary iron though it was, it was far better than empty hands, and his courage swelled.

They pressed onward for no more than the time it takes for a stick of incense to burn, when the sight ahead filled them with renewed terror. The cave was filled with light as a group of people wielding magical treasures beset a four-legged beast clad in silvery scales. The creature was massive, with antlers like a stag, the build of a qilin, and a tail three or four fathoms long—somewhat like a dragon, yet not quite.

“Ice Chi Beast!” they gasped in unison. Legend had it that in places of utmost cold, there dwelt strange beasts called Chi, who could breathe ice and command the elements. Though these were exaggerated tales, the Compendium of Monsters and Beasts recorded that an adult Ice Chi Beast was a formidable sixth-tier monster, rarely seen, and every part of it—from scales and horns to hide and bone—was a priceless treasure.

The ones attacking the beast were the three mysterious, black-clad figures from the previous night. Blades and swords flashed as they battled the monster, both sides bearing wounds. Judging by their techniques, all three were above the Foundation Building stage, moving with perfect coordination. Without such skill, they would have been slain and frozen in an instant. The beast’s icy breath formed massive ice blocks all around, and surely it was responsible for the frozen statues in the cave. Though grievously wounded, the beast fought with savage fury, its gigantic tail sweeping through the cavern, threatening to bring the entire place down and kill them at any moment.

As Lin Feng and Mingxin hesitated, unsure whether to intervene, a piercing whistle cut through the air behind them. Before they could turn, a tremendous force swept overhead, and for the briefest instant, Lin Feng thought the cold air carried a hint of sweetness.

“The boss is here!” one of the swordsmen cried out joyfully. Lin Feng recognized the voice—it was the second brother from yesterday.

In the blink of an eye, the tide of battle shifted. Now it was four against one. The newly arrived black-clad figure brandished a blade that gleamed coldly. Before anyone could react, the Ice Chi Beast let out a thunderous, agonized roar, spewing clouds of icy mist as its eyes flashed with murderous light. In a desperate leap, it vanished into a nearby abyss.

Only then did Lin Feng see the aftermath: a severed, blood-dripping tail still writhed on the cave floor, sliced cleanly by the boss’s blade—a display of frightening skill.

A sixth-tier monster, dispatched with a single blow! Was this newcomer truly at the Core Formation stage?

“Boss! Thank goodness you arrived—we were nearly done for,” the burly swordsman exclaimed, passing out pills from a bottle for the others to swallow.

“Enough. Come with me, and retrieve the treasure at all costs,” the boss said with a wave. To Lin Feng’s surprise, the melodious voice belonged to a woman. His curiosity piqued, he could not help but steal a few glances.

The woman was tall and slender, seemingly quite young. Her black attire only accentuated her graceful figure, and her skin was as pale as snow.

The three men answered in unison. One picked up the severed tail and shot Lin Feng and Mingxin a cold glance before leaping into the abyss in a flash of sword-light. The others followed, and the female leader glanced back at Lin Feng before plunging after them.

That single look struck Lin Feng like a bolt of lightning. Such peerless beauty—delicate features, a face fair as fresh snow, a celestial grace rivaling any goddess descending from heaven. Her dark eyes seemed to pierce one’s soul, cold and misty, leaving him lost as in a dream.

“Brother Lin…” Mingxin called softly at his side, repeating himself before Lin Feng finally returned to his senses.

“Ah, Brother Mingxin. What is it?” He started, seeing Mingxin’s gaze upon him, and hurriedly said, “Shall we… shall we go down as well?”

“Amitabha, Brother Lin, have you not noticed?” Mingxin sighed quietly, pressing his palms together.

“Noticed what?” Lin Feng asked, baffled.

The monk shook his head. “Those four—by their dress and demeanor—are certainly not of our kind. Their methods are ruthless and deadly. Brother Lin, you must be fully prepared for whatever may come.”

Mingxin’s meaning was clear: these people were surely of the demonic path. If they were to meet again, it would likely be a fight to the death.

“This…” Lin Feng fell silent. With his strength, he was no match for them, let alone the Ice Chi Beast. With those four present, going down would be futile.

“Brother Lin, perhaps you should wait outside and make sure no innocents enter. I will go on alone to investigate,” Mingxin offered, seeing Lin Feng’s hesitation. Smiling, he stepped forward, his prayer bowl flying to carry him into the depths of the abyss.

Lin Feng realized the wisdom in this. He could not fly on a sword as they could, and forcing his way down would only hinder the monk. Resigned, he decided to remain by the cliff, on the lookout for any surprises.

Standing at the edge of the icy chasm, he peered downward, glimpsing only a faint glimmer—the monk’s sandalwood bowl far below. As Mingxin took the last light with him, the cave grew dim. Remembering the hairpin Caiyi had given him, he took it out for illumination.

Before him loomed the immense cliff, the abyss plunging unimaginably deep. A chill draft from below sent a shiver through his soul. Thunderous crashes echoed from the depths, mingled with flashes of lightning and bestial roars—they must be locked in battle already.

“If only I could ride a sword,” he thought wistfully, “at least I could see what’s below…” He looked at the jade hairpin in his hand, recalling the words spoken close to his ear: “At the very least, one must be able to come and go freely, no?”

Indeed, without true ability, one cannot take even a single step.

As he pondered, a new sound reached him from outside—the whistling rush of air. In this land of bitter cold and peril, another visitor had arrived.