Cold snow swirled all around.
Nothing grew on the endless frozen earth. Steep mountain ranges stretched on like black stone, with only scattered bursts of magical light flaring and spreading nearby.
The cries of battle seemed to come from beyond the heavens, distant and unreal.
Just then, a bright moon suddenly rose overhead, drawing the entire surrounding area out of the darkness. Nearby Wu Soldiers and monks fell with almost no ability to resist; few managed to struggle free.
The face beneath the hood immediately tilted upward, surprise showing on Lu Ji's features.
"What magical lineage does this Zheng Kingdom cultivator practice? I've never seen it in our Xianyu Kingdom."
That immortal foundation resembled a clear moon, its light making the cold snow even more biting. The woman within it seemed beyond mortal with every gesture, naturally drawing his attention.
Northern Di was the name the Zheng Kingdom gave them. The Di people did not call themselves Di. Though their territory was small, they had established a kingdom of their own, named Xianyu.
Throughout the ages, many outsiders had come here to spread their teachings, leaving the Dao lineages hopelessly intermingled. After so many years, they often could no longer distinguish which lineage belonged to which tradition, so they generally called them magical lineages, rarely making finer distinctions.
"This..."
At first glance, its cold was more than mere cold, and its yin was not entirely yin. It possessed both, making it rather strange.
The people on the mountain exchanged glances. All were lacking in learning and experience; they could only see its ancient grandeur, not recognize its orthodox immortal lineage.
In the end, the monk beside them, dressed in dark red robes, stepped forward. Clutching a strand of chicken-fat-yellow prayer beads, he lowered his eyes and said:
"Bitter wind and