The vast net of rules descended. The white-haired man tried to flee, but under the suppression of the world's rules, there was nowhere for him to escape.
His Stigmata Domain was compressed down to the surface of his body, reduced to nothing more than a thin shell.
He continuously drew energy from the shell to sustain himself, but the rate at which he could draw it grew slower and slower.
The Stigmata Domain could not absorb frost power in this world. Every bit of energy used was a bit less.
The suppressive force of the rule net grew stronger and stronger. His shell thinned, like a stone being sharpened by a blade.
At this rate, in less than the time it took to drink a cup of tea, his Stigmata Domain would be completely suppressed, and he himself would become meat on the chopping block.
He couldn't drag this out any longer!
The white-haired man stopped hesitating and crossed his hands before his chest.
Frost power surged from within his body, forming a thick suit of ice armor over his surface.
That was not the end. The frost power continued to intensify, and the ice armor grew thicker and thicker, from half a meter to one meter, then from one meter to two.
Before long, the ice armor had become a huge lump of ice.
The white-haired man had actually sealed himself inside the ice, like an insect trapped in amber.
The ice was transparent, and his face could be seen through it. His eyes were closed, his brows tightly furrowed, and his lips pressed into a thin line.
He was waiting—waiting for his two old companions outside to rescue him. They had worked together for more than a century. His old companions would not abandon him.
Besides, he was