The faces of the ice sculptures were lifelike—old and young, men and women alike.
Frozen solid for this reason, they still retained the expressions they had worn in their final moments.
Some were filled with panic, brimming with fear of death.
Some looked grief-stricken and indignant. Though their eyes were dull and lifeless, their faces were written all over with unwillingness.
Others remained calm, their expressions unchanged even with mountains collapsing before them.
"Hm? These... could they all be...?"
His gaze sweeping over the figures, Su Shi'er immediately cast another questioning look at Zhong Shenxiu.
Though he asked aloud, he already had a guess—and an answer—in his heart.
"That is right. These were all former true disciples and numerous elders of Tiandao Palace."
"They were plotted against by the Holy Son of Tiandao Palace, their cultivation went awry, and they were then hunted down."
"Unable to leave Tiandao Palace, they had no choice but to flee here, activate the Myriad Year Profound Ice Cold Qi, and choose this way to end their own lives!"
Zhong Shenxiu's face was full of sorrow, and her voice carried a sobbing tremor.
In truth, she had never had the slightest interaction with any of these people.
Yet from her master's accounts, she had long heard countless stories of their deeds.
And within the illusion, she had clearly seen every face present.
With one glance, she could even tell a thing or two about the character of each figure sealed within the solid ice, now devoid of the slightest breath of life.
"What a Holy Son of Tiandao Palace. What a dove occupying a magpie's nest. What ruthless Descendants of Gods!
The dead cannot return to life. Miss Zhong, please restrain your grief."
Su Shi'er sighed softly, then spoke.
He too felt saddened by