Though the chill was fierce, Lu Xiaotian's magical power had long since grown incomparably pure. After being repeatedly tempered in his battles with Xiang Kuang, it was already no weaker than that of a Nascent Soul Middle Stage Cultivator. What was more, he had Fanluo Truefire protecting him, and he was a body cultivator to boot. The Zhuohe chill that made ordinary cultivators tremble in fear could not harm Lu Xiaotian in the slightest.
Meng Yuanguang, by contrast, wielded a Frostlight Ruler that unfurled through the air like a blue-black ribbon, lashing again and again at the five Demon-Suppressing Towers surrounding him. Each time the Frostlight Ruler collided with the towers, their spiritual light flashing, it was like striking a massive mountain. The Zhuohe chill within the ruler tried to creep along the towers and seep inside to damage them, but the spiritfire within drove it back.
Meng Yuanguang's pale, delicate face darkened further. The Zhuohe chill in his Frostlight Ruler had no effect on this man at all. Whether it was the several treasured towers or Lu Xiaotian himself, they were like walls of bronze and iron, impervious to the slightest attack. His abilities had been reduced by half.
Just as the two were locked in battle, two Nascent Soul Cultivators clad in silver armor arrived, leading several hundred Xiangdu Imperial Guards. They rose through a vast bank of gray-white clouds. The man at the head had sword-shaped brows and bright, starry eyes, and wore a jade crown shaped like a flying flood dragon. A silver plume trailed from the back of his head to his shoulder, and he was dressed in white finery. Eight ninth-rank Wind Lions pulled his carriage, while two child attendants served at either side of the spirit carriage. What an impressive sight.
But when