The hum at the end of the ice corridor still echoed as Chen Wuya raised a hand to block the cold wind rushing at them. The three emerged from the narrow passage, and the view suddenly opened wide.
A towering ice cliff, a hundred zhang high, stood before them, its face mirror-smooth as it reflected the gray-white sky. An ice bridge, barely wide enough for two people abreast, hung over the abyss, its far end swallowed by wind and snow. Before they could steady themselves, several dark figures leaped down from the cliff top, landing without a sound.
The woman at their head wore silver-scaled battle armor and a frost-patterned mask. Her right hand rested on the hilt of the saber at her waist. Her gaze settled on Chen Wuya's chest, and her voice was cold and clear. "Hand over the South Sea token."
Behind her, dozens of snow demon archers had already drawn their ice bowstrings. Frost gathered on their arrowheads as they all aimed at the three.
Chen Wuya did not move, his left hand pressing against the jade pendant in his robes. It was still burning hot, its warmth passing through the cloth into his palm. He said quietly, "She recognizes this."
Bai Zhi retreated half a step, her flexible sword sliding three inches from its sheath. Mo Feng crouched and pulled out a mechanism box. His fingers had just reached for the button when they stopped. His breathing grew heavier, and his fingertips trembled faintly.
"Don't panic." Chen Wuya glanced at him. "Do as you said."
Mo Feng gritted his teeth and slammed the button on the mechanism box. A mechanical spider shot out and latched onto the ice wall overhead. Three miniature gears appeared in the air, spinning as they unfolded and projected a shifting