Wind and snow howled.
Bai Yuanze gradually woke.
But he could not move at all.
He had already been injured, and this time he had pushed himself far too hard. He could not recover right away.
Snow pellets struck his face one by one, slowly melting into water that ran down his cheeks.
He stared blankly at the dark sky, his eyes full of confusion.
Everything that had just happened replayed in his mind.
What...
What had happened?
He had burned the power of his Bloodline and cast off every restraint.
He had drawn on the vast Imago of the contest for President, driving the mask's power to its limit.
He had been—
Just about to drag that Crown Prince into the Ninefold Nether!
So why had he failed at the last moment?
Why had he been thrown here?
Could it be...
That the Mortal Realm's Imperial Family still had a trump card, something he knew nothing about?
Very likely!
The Imperial Family was a towering giant that gathered treasures and secret arts from across the land. Of course it had something hidden at the bottom of its chest.
Bai Yuanze breathed out a long plume of white mist, weariness rising in his eyes.
He had accomplished nothing.
He had missed the contest for President entirely.
This assassination had failed, and some secret art had thrown him into this desolate place.
So—
Were they going to execute him next?
Amid the wind and snow,
he seemed to hear voices.
Bai Yuanze tensed and tried to sit up at once, only to find he could not muster an ounce of strength.
He shook his head, relaxed, and looked almost relieved.
He had done all he could.
Now,
he would meet his final fate.
"Over there!"
Someone shouted.
"I see him! I