The wind and snow had eased.
A sliver of light filtered in through the mouth of the ice cave, falling at Chen Wuya's feet. He stood where he was, one hand still pressed to the wall, the lingering warmth in his palm already gone. That support had steadied him just now, but his legs were still weak, every bone feeling as though it had been ground beneath a millstone.
The old man knelt on the ground with both hands pressed against the ice, saying nothing more.
Chen Wuya looked down at him. This man, who had just moments ago raised a spear to kill him, now hung his head, frost clinging to his white beard, his shoulders trembling faintly. Not from fear, but from the reaction of waking up. He knew what he had just done, and he knew who had made him do it.
Footsteps came from afar, orderly and steady. A squad of Snow Demon warriors emerged from the passage, clad in animal hides and gripping weapons that they did not raise. They stopped ten paces from the stone platform, forming two rows and lowering their heads.
No one called out. No one moved.
The old man slowly lifted his head and glanced at Chen Wuya. There was probing in his gaze, but also confirmation. He rose slowly, walked to the front of the formation, turned around, and raised his right hand. His palm lay open, holding a grayish-white stone engraved with dense patterns like cracks spreading through ice.
"This is the token of the Law Elder," he said. "From today onward, you have the right to take part in deliberations and the right to veto any sacrifice or alliance that has not been examined."
Chen Wuya did not reach out to take it.
He looked at the