"Name?"
"Nangong Wan."
"Is there anyone else here besides you?"
"...Do you think there are any survivors?
...Uh... No, no! I'm the only one who made it out!"
Nangong Wan knelt on the freezing floor, his old face twisted in pain, prostrating himself.
Just for slightly displeasing the Ice Empress, the thumb on his left hand had been frozen solid.
But the cold hadn't numbed his nerves. If anything, the pain had doubled. It felt as though his finger bones had been crushed, then pierced by a thousand freezing needles. The sensation was excruciating.
They said the fingers were connected to the heart. He'd nearly passed out from the pain.
Sensing something was wrong, he and the Seventh Elder, along with a group of Evil Soul Masters, had hidden in a small room beneath the underground arena—a room within a room, so to speak. It was made of specially crafted rare metal at great expense, and could block even a Limit Douluo's perceptions. It was perfectly safe.
Who could have guessed that the Ice Empress would defy all expectations and unleash an attack across the entire area? Fortunately, he'd been more afraid—or rather, more cautious—and come out ahead of time. Otherwise, he'd have become an ice sculpture along with everyone still inside.
It could only block perceptions. Though it was fairly sturdy, it couldn't withstand an attack that monstrous.
Even now, he was still shaken. He'd come this close to dying.
The Ice Empress looked down at Nangong Wan, who had been kneeling ever since he came out. His spine was surprisingly soft; he answered every question.
She said coldly, "What plans do you have with Xu Tianran? Tell me everything, or else..."
"Xu Tianran?"
Nangong Wan froze. He even forgot the pain in his thumb for a moment, and