The wind and snow howled; heaven and earth were frozen solid.
Huang Zhao and the Silver-haired Man crouched in a snow pit to shelter from the storm. They neither dared charge through the horde of zombies nor retreat, for who knew whether the white flood dragon was waiting for them? They could only dig a pit and hide where the zombies dared not approach.
In another direction, a group from the Central Plains had finally left the chaotic battlefield and were waiting for news on the outskirts.
The ice-and-snow creatures were still desperately wiping out the zombies crawling from the frozen earth. Spell light flickered amid the blizzard, and the zombies' numbers rapidly dwindled...
The elderly monk glared at the Chunyang Purple Void group with a dark expression.
They had suffered grievous losses and did not dare rashly clash with the other side. Yet whenever he thought of that Flood Dragon Maiden killing one expert after another from their sect, his teeth itched with hatred. They had likely never suffered such devastating losses in the past century or two. Fine—Chunyang Palace would not be jumping around for many more days anyway. Once they seized the dragon bones, he would see how that white flood dragon could keep acting so arrogantly!
All three groups waited. The Western Teachings had considerable confidence in the Golden-Winged Great Peng; the old man's group hoped to pick up bargains amid the chaos; Purple Void and the others believed their fellow sect member, the white flood dragon, would come out on top.
The elderly monk sneered.
"True Persons, that demon is afraid to disappoint you. The eagle is her natural enemy. She cannot defeat it."
Faced with the mockery, the Purple Void Sword Cultivators continued discussing sword techniques with their fellow sect members. They even used