Without any support, chunks of ice of varying sizes... no, they could not be called chunks of ice... they were icebergs.
Each ranged from hundreds of meters to several kilometers across. They floated in this bitterly cold space, unevenly spaced and scattered at different heights.
Some had surfaces so smooth they looked as though someone had cut them, while others were jagged, their sharp tips reflecting a frigid gleam.
There were... holes in the sides of some of the floating ice islands.
The entrances were round, with smooth edges. They did not look naturally formed.
"Something lives inside," Chen Siyao concluded immediately.
No sooner had she spoken...
Than Yang Wanqing saw it.
Out of the entrance in the nearest ice island flew a...
Moth.
No. It could not be called a moth. That name was far too cheap.
It was a flying creature with a wingspan of over ten meters. Its shape did indeed resemble a moth... two pairs of broad wings, a slender body, and feathery antennae on its head.
But its color... it was icy white all over. The entire moth looked carved from crystal, its wings so thin they were almost translucent.
The intricate vein patterns inside were visible. But what made it impossible to look away was the layer of shimmering light.
Multicolored.
It flowed from the roots of the wings to their tips, as though an aurora had been sealed inside them.
With every beat of its wings, the shimmering light changed color: blue, purple, cyan, gold, cycling endlessly.
After the first emerged, another followed. Then two. Five. More than a dozen.
They poured out of different entrances in that ice island and scattered through the air. The shimmering light on their wings reflected off the surrounding ice crystals, scattering fragments of color across the