The Profound Ice Sect Master felt an immense force surge from Hong Yuan, like a mountain torrent bursting its banks or magma erupting, a mighty tide of force crashing toward her.
The force surrounding her instantly collapsed, and her body shuddered violently as she fell.
Yu Linfeng fell alongside her. Yet both were supreme experts who stood at the pinnacle. The instant they landed, their clothes brushing the snow, they sprang up again with astonishing speed.
They hurtled backward.
In a flash, their feet tapped the ground repeatedly, their auras faintly linking together. Only after retreating over a hundred feet did they stare across at him in shock and disbelief, their vigilance stretched to its utmost.
Hong Yuan did not pursue them. Seemingly lighter than a snowflake, he drifted gently down onto the snow.
Just then, Hua Xiangrong let out a scream. Flames gushed from within her like ghostly fire from hell, instantly setting her entire body ablaze from the inside out. Within a few breaths, that beautiful body had burned down to a skeleton.
A gust swept past, and the bones crumbled with a brittle crack, scattering as powder.
With a soft thud, the wine-cup-shaped earring rolled onto the snow, seemingly undamaged.
Some martial artists who had recovered their senses recoiled at the sight, terror written across their faces.
A trace of sorrow flashed through the Profound Ice Sect Master's eyes, but she made no move. She did not even retrieve the earring Spirit Vessel, merely watching Hong Yuan gravely, not daring to relax for an instant.
Yu Linfeng swept his gaze around. Bei Mingzi, Yuan Nutao, and the others had suffered devastating casualties. Even the survivors' auras were feeble and listless; clearly, they could no longer fight.
And all this devastation had come from a single palm strike