The Demon Emperor's palm hovered above White Snow's head, his five fingers spread like a black hole.
She knelt on the ground, her left wing bent at a grotesque angle, most of the feathers on her right wing scorched.
Blood ran from her forehead into her eyes, staining the whole world red.
The divine soul lights on the dome were still going out in swathes. With every light extinguished, Qing Feng's breathing grew a little weaker.
Was she going to die?
White Snow closed her eyes.
Old Ironhead's smiling face flickered before her eyes, Tie Xiaoqi's tears splashing onto his face.
Mo Huaigu's long, gray-white eyebrows drooped over his deathly still cheeks.
The Storage Ring dug into her claw. The Purple Cauldron Fragment glimmered with faint purple light that could go out at any moment.
Three days. Ye Han said three days.
She couldn't wait that long.
Black fog seeped between the Demon Emperor's fingers, writhing into her feathers. Cold. Bone-piercing cold. It was not a temperature, but something older than a river of ice, intent on chewing her divine soul to pieces, bit by bit.
White Snow trembled all over.
She wasn't afraid of dying. She was afraid of dying here, before everyone else, without accomplishing anything. The breach Old Ironhead had blasted open with his life still hadn't been closed. Tie Xiaoqi was still behind her, trembling with her toolbox in her arms. Mistress Qing Feng...
Qing Feng.
On the stone pillar, Qing Feng's fingers twitched. The movement was slight, almost invisible. But White Snow saw it. The woman who always smoothed her feathers, who always called her "Little White," was using the last of her strength to try to lift her head and look at her.
The black fog had already burrowed into her bone marrow.
White