A Hall of Flowers Intoxicated Three Thousand Guests, One Sword's Frost Chilled Fourteen Provinces

The instant the blade left its sheath, the air abruptly stilled.

The ice-blue longsword flew from his hand, tracing a crisp arc through the air. The seven streams of light twining around its blade all receded at that moment, leaving only the utmost cold.

Wherever the blade passed, the air frosted over inch by inch. Fine ice crystals spread like mist, refracting a frigid halo beneath the multicolored light of the Soul Guidance Lamps.

The first Evil Soul Master had only just raised his blood mantis scythe, its edge still stained with blood from Ye Guyi's shoulder, when the ice-blue blade pierced straight through his chest. His eyes widened sharply, and he looked down at his chest.

Before the wound could open or blood could gush out, a cluster of ice blossoms bloomed outward from his heart, their petals layered upon one another, translucent and gleaming, their beauty enough to make the heart tremble.

The ice blossoms spread along his blood vessels, from his heart to his limbs, from his skin to his marrow. His blood instantly congealed into dark red ice crystals, and his muscle fibers froze into rigid permafrost.

His expression froze in that final instant, the vicious grin still hanging at the corners of his mouth, yet his entire face was already covered in a thin layer of white frost. He resembled an ice sculpture forgotten for a thousand years, gleaming with an eerie blue chill beneath the moonlight.

The black soul-puppet thread of another Evil Soul Master was still wrapped around Ye Guyi's right leg. Formed from Soul Power, that thread should have moved as nimbly as a snake, but now ice flowed back up it from the other end.

Terrified, he tried to sever the Soul Power connection, but the cold came too quickly. It climbed along his fingers, wrists, and forearms, freezing both hands before him so that he could not even bend or straighten them.

He opened his mouth to scream, but only a brief rasp escaped his throat. His exhaled white breath congealed into ice shards beside his lips, and his entire face began turning white around his mouth and nose, swiftly spreading to his eyes. The last traces of terror still lingered in those eyes, but they could no longer see anything.

His body remained in a retreating posture, one foot suspended in midair, like a puppet put on pause. From head to toe, the ice was smooth and even, with even the folds of his robes frozen perfectly in place.

Another Evil Soul Master reacted quickly, holding his blood scythe across his body to block. The instant the ice-blue blade struck it, the blood-colored Soul Power coating the scythe froze and cracked beneath the cold, spiderweb fractures bursting outward from the point of impact.

He released his grip to throw the scythe away, but both hands were already stuck to its shaft. Ice spread from his palms into the gaps between his fingers, freezing all ten, one by one, into transparent icicles, even his fingernails clearly visible.

His Martial Soul was suppressed by the ice. Evil Soul Power struggled within his meridians, trying to surge outward, only to be sealed inside his body by the ice, like a flame encased in amber, flickering in vain.

He fell to his knees, the sound of them striking the flagstones as crisp as snapping icicles. His body pitched forward, his forehead touched the ground, and his whole form curled into an ice sculpture. Even the loose lock of hair at the nape of his neck froze into a bent strand of ice.

The fourth and fifth Evil Soul Masters stood closest together. After passing through the previous man's body, the ice-blue blade still had momentum to spare, and cold erupted in a ring of ice around it.

The ring struck both men at once, instantly freezing their legs to the ground. The flesh below their calves was replaced by ice. They struggled to pull their legs free, but the ice did not budge.

One raised his hand to unleash a Soul Skill. Dark purple Soul Power had only just gathered in his palm when ice poured backward through his fingertips, freezing that mass of Soul Power into a purple bead of ice in his palm.

He watched helplessly as his fingers stiffened one by one. His five splayed fingers were encased in ice, like a withered flower sealed in frost.

The other turned his head to flee, but the muscles around his waist had already frozen solid, and he only managed half a turn.

Ice then spread from his lumbar vertebrae along his spine, fixing his entire body in a bent posture. One hand still reached behind him, trying to grasp something, and his pose beneath the moonlight resembled a comical pantomime.

Beneath the feet of the man with the highest cultivation among them, the light of Soul Emperor-level Soul Rings faintly shone. He roared, evil Soul Power exploding around him as he tried to withstand the cold with sheer Soul Power.

But a faint, elusive aura of destruction mingled with the cold of the ice-blue blade. The instant his evil Soul Power touched the ice, it vanished like a clay ox entering the sea, devoured entirely by that faint purple light.

Ice rose from beneath his feet and encased his legs. He swung his fist into it, only for his fist to freeze to the surface on contact, his knuckles giving off crisp creaks.

He raised his head toward the Imperial Carriage, his eyes filled with disbelief. His mouth opened slightly, but all he exhaled was a breath of white mist, which congealed into a small ice cloud before him.

Then the ice swallowed his entire body, leaving only his eyes moving beneath its surface. His gaze shifted from shock to terror, before finally sinking into deathly stillness.

The one at the very back was also the only one who reacted by trying to flee.

He turned and sprinted, driving his evil Soul Power to its limit as the Soul Rings beneath his feet flashed wildly. Yet the ice-blue blade did not pursue him; the ground beneath his feet simply became an ice field in an instant.

He had barely taken one step when ice spread along his sole to his ankle. He staggered another step, and the ice had already encased his knees.

At the third step, he toppled to the ground. Bracing both hands against the ice, he tried to crawl, his ten fingers scraping shallow marks across its surface, only to turn white from the cold.

He lay prone, his face pressed against the ice, staring at the alley entrance so close before him. Muffled whimpers escaped his mouth. Then ice spread over him from his back, sealing those whimpers inside its shell.

Seven Evil Soul Masters, seven ice sculptures in different poses, seven clusters of Soul Power light frozen within the ice.

After accomplishing all this, the ice-blue longsword slowly dissipated, turning into fine ice crystals that scattered through the air, like a miniature snowfall.

From the moment the blade left its sheath until all seven were sealed in ice, only three breaths had passed.

Ye Guyi had slumped to the ground, her golden longsword still clutched in her hand. Its tip rested against the ground, supporting her half-kneeling body.

The wound on her shoulder was still seeping blood, the stains gleaming faintly gold beneath the holy light. Yet her eyes remained fixed on the seven ice sculptures before her, their pupils reflecting the cold light refracted through the ice. Her lips were slightly parted and did not close for a long time.

She knew her Angel Martial Soul countered Evil Soul Masters, but that was in one-on-one battles against opponents of similar cultivation.

Of these seven Evil Soul Masters before her, even the weakest was a Soul King. As for that Soul Emperor, she had never truly managed to hurt him in the slightest from beginning to end.

Yet that youth seated in the Imperial Carriage, that youth who looked so much younger than her, had turned all seven of them into seven ice sculptures with just a casual sweep of sword light.

She had not even seen clearly how that sword light had shot out.

Such terrifying strength!

Truly, a hall of flowers intoxicated three thousand guests, and one sword's frost chilled fourteen provinces!

Xu Jingyao set his fan down on the table and rose to his feet.

An attendant lifted the Imperial Carriage's door curtain, and he descended step by step using the footboard. His Silver Moon White royal robes shone with a gentle luster beneath the Soul Guidance Lamps, his long black hair falling loose behind his shoulders. A smile lingered in those eyes where violet and emerald green intertwined as he looked at Ye Guyi, slumped on the ground.