Under the gazes of Zacian and Zamazenta, Su Hao left the unknown Sleeping Courtyard of the heroes.
Watching Su Hao walk away with the ruins of Sword and Shield on his back, Zamazenta exchanged a glance with Zacian. Their forms grew increasingly ethereal as they prepared to continue recovering their strength through sleep.
As long as they had the fire Su Hao had first kindled with Wave Power, they could consciously restore their strength in slumber. At the very least, they would no longer be like they had been for the past three thousand years—muddled and barely maintaining their own existence, trapped in dreams from which they could never awaken.
With all their strength, Zacian and Zamazenta's Howls echoed throughout Slumbering Weald.
Their meaning was—
May your martial fortunes flourish.
In the distance.
Su Hao, who had left the Sleeping Courtyard, paused before quickening his pace.
Two days later.
Across an endless snowfield, a Blizzard raged like an enraged beast. It seemed that nothing remained between heaven and earth but chaos and the howling wind.
Snowflakes had become razor-sharp blades, mercilessly slicing through the air. Every uniquely beautiful flake carried a cold that would make ordinary people tremble.
The sky was blanketed by heavy, leaden-gray clouds. Even sunlight could not pierce that thick barrier, leaving only a hazy, oppressive glow.
The wind roared violently, carrying biting cold as it swept over every inch of land, churning the snowfield into a surging sea.
Yet within such an environment, a figure who should not have appeared at such a time pressed forward with determination.
The thick cold-weather clothing ordinary people needed to wear upon entering the snowfield was nothing but a burden to him.
Even heavy winter clothing and scarves could not completely ward off the biting cold, but separated by