The Rimewinter Snowfield.
Amid the swirling snow, Jiang Cheng carried the Tyrant Sword on his back as he and Xia Sheng pressed into the blizzard.
The broad plain before them was swallowed by endless white. The wind swept past with a beastlike howl, its shrill cries hissing in their ears.
White stretched as far as the eye could see. After staring at the monotonous color for so long, Jiang Cheng began to feel waves of visual fatigue.
Compared to the Colorful Mist Coast and the Senluo Forest Realm Region, the only sights worth admiring in the Rimewinter Snowfield were its star-studded night sky and ethereal, colorful auroras.
Along the way, the Tyrant Sword kept asking about their past.
Jiang Cheng had prepared for this.
Before coming, he had already made up their identities and backstories.
"So, only three of you remain from your entire race?" The Tyrant Sword's hoarse voice sounded beside their ears.
Jiang Cheng's steps faltered slightly, the snow crunching beneath his feet. Fighting back a laugh, he took a deep breath and nodded.
"Our Heavenly Fire Clan was once a race of gods in a Minor World. We wielded the power of skyfire and ruled over hundreds of races-but now, after descending into Monster World, persecution by outside forces has left us-" Jiang Cheng's voice gradually sank.
A trace of pain appeared in his eyes.
The Pain Life Soul in his Star Meridian Slot activated as well, allowing the Tyrant Sword to sense the extreme repression deep within Jiang Cheng's heart.
But since it had not generated this negative emotion itself, it could not draw power from it, which left it somewhat disappointed.
In its eyes, Jiang Cheng was now an almost perfect host.
A blood feud, a thirst for strength, and an unshakable will-especially that unshakable