The north wind howled over a world blanketed in snow and ice.
A figure stood beside the Blood Lake, thick as a mire, silently watching the enormous blood cocoon at its center.
The Three Great Rogue Cultivators had once stood at the pinnacle of the Northern Sea's unaffiliated cultivators, looking down on their peers.
But with Blood Rogue missing and Moon Rogue enslaved, their glory had long since vanished.
As the "Desolate Rogue," once counted among them, Luo Chen had never expected to meet the last of the three, Mad Rogue, under such circumstances.
Yet the two had not exchanged even the simplest words. They had shared only a glance, and everything had passed in silence.
Looking at the thick blood cocoon now, Luo Chen knew Mad Rogue had reached the most critical juncture. If he survived it, a new opportunity awaited him. If he failed, only one fate remained: death!
"Good luck, fellow Daoist!"
After watching for a long while, Luo Chen spoke those words, then turned and left.
Once he was gone, the Blood Lake began to stir unnaturally.
Great quantities of blood and black mist surged toward the cocoon. A vigorous heartbeat sounded from within—thump, thump, thump—as though heralding the birth of a new life.
In a Buddhist hall in Raging Sea City, Kong Chan sat cross-legged on a cushion, chanting scriptures. The atmosphere around him was peaceful and serene, without a trace of foul-smelling Demon Qi.
Suddenly!
The prayer beads in Kong Chan's hand stopped. He opened his eyes by instinct and saw a black-clad figure standing silently before the Wisdom King Buddha Statue.
For some reason, Kong Chan felt the black-robed Daoist bore a faint resemblance to the statue at that moment, though the man was clearly no Buddhist.
"Master, you've emerged from seclusion?"
Kong