Chapter 26: The Glacial Power of the Moon Palace Unleashed

Who is this man, to have frightened Black Hunter so thoroughly? A powerful unease gnawed at Wan Xudong’s heart. Had they truly provoked some great figure? There were five top masters from Pinglong Fortress present, yet Black Hunter insisted that this would bring doom to them all—he could hardly be speaking recklessly. They would have to tread with utmost caution.

Wan Xudong knew something of Black Hunter’s character; he was no bluffer. With this in mind, Wan Xudong pulled the short man behind him and cast a wary glance at the ever-smiling Mister Ji. Straightening his attire and making sure nothing was amiss, he stepped forward and offered a deep, respectful bow.

“I am Wan Xudong of Pinglong Fortress. Together with my brothers, I pay my respects to the elder. Just now, an ignorant youth among us offended you; on his behalf, I offer my sincerest apologies. A personage of such virtue and magnanimity would surely not trouble yourself with us.”

“Hehe, Xiaoshuang, look at this one—truly shameless! Birds of a feather indeed. Their leader has no sense of shame, and his men are all blind fools, daring even to insult Mister Ji. Even our palace master treats Mister Ji with the utmost respect,” teased Xiaomo, tugging Xiaoshuang beside her as they watched the scene unfold.

Her words were like fuel to the fire, and Wan Xudong, who had been holding back for so long, finally erupted.

“Seize those two little brats! I will personally escort them to Jin Xue Palace and ask if this is the kind of disciple they raise—ones who go about wreaking havoc!”

Though the short man was displeased at being pushed aside, now his temper flared. As soon as Wan Xudong spoke, he leapt forward, eager to be the first to act.

“Huang the Short, be careful not to bruise those fair-skinned girls! Let me warm them up a bit—it’s far too cold for such delicate things,” shouted the bald man known mockingly as Iron Black Egg, his voice carrying over to the short man. They could not fathom the depths of Mister Ji’s power, nor dare act rashly, but Pinglong Fortress had always been willful and unreasonable. To be so stifled today only made their ire burn hotter.

“No, no, if I were to wield my Gold-Cleaving Heaven-Splitting Axe, those two girls would surely become four.”

“How so?” someone asked.

“One swing splits one into two, two swings make four! Iron Black Egg, your head can’t hold a candle to mine!”

“Shut your trap! Didn’t Big Brother Wan say to capture them, not chop them up? Don’t frighten people with that big axe of yours.”

“I suppose I could manage without it. Still, being short, whatever move I use, people always think I’m aiming low. Against these two girls, that might be especially effective. If they start calling out for Big Brother Huang, how will I endure that?”

With such lewd banter, the two young women’s fair cheeks flushed crimson. Xiaoshuang shouted in rage, “Enough! I swear I’ll freeze you into ice blocks before the day is done!”

With a flick of their soft swords and a quick hand sign, two icy tails formed at the tips. The girls brandished their swords, sending a flurry of whip-like shadows lashing toward Huang the Short.

“Haha! Little ones, your faces are as tender as your skins. The girls in those big houses can’t get enough of me—they’re always begging for Big Brother Huang’s special attention!”

Despite his crude appearance, Huang the Short was a master of Essence Cultivation, with deep reserves of power and rich combat experience—otherwise, how could he serve as Wan Xudong’s right hand?

Spewing filth, Huang the Short wielded his massive axe, sweeping away the icy whip shadows with ease. Taking a deep breath, his life force surged, strengthening his veins and muscles. Bulging veins pulsed beneath his skin like worms writhing across his body.

Where once stood a squat, ridiculous figure, now, as if inflated, a giant of over two meters loomed before the girls—muscles and veins straining with power.

This sudden transformation caught Xiaoshuang and Xiaomo completely unprepared. The now towering Huang the Short swung his enormous axe, shattering the icy lashes faster than they could reform.

The girls, still inexperienced, could only panic and swing their swords frantically, pouring all their spiritual power into maintaining their spells.

Meanwhile, Iron Black Egg, who had been jeering about warming things up, now dropped his hands—having formed several intricate seals—and traced three circles with his foot, chanting:

“Sacred fire blazes, all evil is consumed!”

With a gesture toward the two girls, an enormous ring of fire, twenty meters in diameter, sprang up, encircling them. The flames, two stories high and tinged with blue, radiated intense heat.

With a change of hand seals, he called, “Shrink!” The fire ring began to contract from the outside in—and that was only the beginning. He cried out twice more, “Shrink! Shrink!” and three rings of fire appeared in succession, each closing in tighter.

The giant, too, was caught within the fire’s embrace, but with a booming laugh, he gathered his strength and leapt several meters into the air, twisting to land outside the rings.

The girls, though armed, were soul cultivators and physically unenhanced, unable to leap free. As the flames closed in, they huddled together, retracted their swords, and wove a series of rapid hand signs, conjuring walls of ice to shield themselves.

The flames coiled around the ice, burning fiercely without dying down. As each ring closed in, the fire’s intensity grew, and the ice walls began to melt away.

At last, atop the distant palanquin, Wen Yuge spoke.

“So clumsy. When we return, you two will spend half a month training in the ice caves. Understood?”

His calm voice reached the girls, who answered in unison. Relief washed over them—if their master was speaking, he would surely intervene, and no number of villains could harm them then.

Wen Yuge gave a soft “Mm” and continued, “You people of Pinglong Fortress, release my maids, kneel, and kowtow three times each, then swear to avoid Jin Xue Palace’s people hereafter. Do that, and I’ll spare your lives.”

Huang the Short ground his teeth, slamming his axe into the ground and roaring, “You snot-nosed brat! A few words and you expect us to kneel to you? Who do you think you are, the king of heaven?”

“Don’t you find your words a bit too arrogant? Is this the way of Jin Xue Palace?” Wan Xudong’s face was equally furious—this elegant youth’s tone was insufferably lofty. Jin Xue Palace’s reputation was great, but none present had ever encountered them, and thus felt little awe.

“Big Brother Wan, there’s no need to waste words with him. Let me test his skill—watch my back!” The bald man strode forward, changed his hand seals, and the flames around the girls vanished.

Bringing his hands together, a deep red orb formed at his fingertips. His seals grew ever more complex, until at last he pointed at the orb and called out:

“Ten Thousand Fires Become the Sun, Blazing Radiance!”

Three flames of different colors sprang forth, weaving into the red orb. As they fused, the orb became a massive fireball, radiating a terrifying heat that drove everyone back in fear.

Wen Yuge merely watched the fireball’s formation, then at last extended his gentle hands, weaving a blur of seals faster than the eye could follow.

Such proficiency could not be gained overnight; a shuddering might poured from his body, making even those ignorant of soul arts sense his terrifying power.

Mister Ji shifted, shielding Sumu at his side, muttering, “These fools are doomed. I should be going, or else that boy may not hold up.”

No one else understood Mister Ji’s words. The bald man thrust his hands forward, sending the tricolored fireball soaring toward Wen Yuge, splitting into hundreds, thousands of flaming streams that crashed down like the sun incinerating all before it—engulfing Wen Yuge and his palanquin, the fire’s light turning half the city of Yoma as bright as day.

“Ha! Big Brother Wan, Jin Xue Palace is nothing but an empty name. Iron Black Egg was too ruthless—didn’t even give me a chance to show my skill,” laughed Huang the Short, twirling his axe and eyeing the two girls with a leering grin. “Just wait, I’ll strip those two and see if their skin is as white as their faces.”

“You think your little campfire could harm my master? Keep dreaming,” Xiaomo said, her face burning with shame and anger, yet she sneered at the terrifying flames, utterly dismissive.

The bald man grew uneasy—his spiritual power was still bound to the fire, and he could feel something inside it had not been consumed. At first, he’d thought the palanquin was unusually sturdy, but now, hearing the girl’s words, he wondered—was that young master truly unscathed?

Suddenly, everyone’s expression changed at once—a chilling spiritual power filled the air, making their skin crawl. From within the flames, a faint voice sounded:

“Moonlit Chill, Icy Court Unbound.”

As the words echoed, a shaft of moonlight broke through the clouds, bathing everyone below. The searing heat vanished, replaced by a coolness that made the air comfortable, and the crowd exchanged puzzled glances, unsure what kind of spell this was, though it felt strangely pleasant.

Without warning, Mister Ji loudly declared, “I am old and frail—this cold is too much for me. I must take my leave!” In the blink of an eye, he and Sumu were gone.

“Hmph! Lucky the old man left early. I doubt there was much to him—my axe isn’t afraid of the likes of him,” grunted Huang the Short.

“Oh, nearly forgot—before I go, I’ll settle your earlier disrespect,” came a voice. Before he’d finished, Mister Ji appeared before them again, tapped Huang the Short on the chest with a finger, laughed, and vanished once more.

“It itches! Hahaha! It itches so much! Big Brother Wan, help me!” Huang the Short howled, scratching himself bloody as he laughed and cried, even tearing out handfuls of hair—an unspeakably ghastly sight.

Wan Xudong was shaken, moving to check on him, but just then Wen Yuge’s magic revealed its true terror. Only when they tried to move did everyone realize their ankles were encased in ice—no one had even noticed, not a hint of chill.

Black Hunter, lying on the ground, saw that half his body was frozen, yet felt nothing—what fearsome sorcery was this?

Wanchongtian, who had been meditating cross-legged, found himself unable to stand—his legs buried in ice. Such silent, unfelt magic was impossible to defend against.

There was no time to react. In the span of a few breaths, Black Hunter was completely sealed in ice, followed by the tormented, writhing Huang the Short, his face twisted in agony. Wanchongtian wept and begged his brother for help.

“Big Brother, save me! I don’t want to die!”

Wan Xudong trembled in terror, finally understanding just how fearsome this seemingly gentle young master was. As his brother's cries filled his ears, his mind raced for a way to escape—the ice was already up to his chest. If he delayed any longer, it would be too late. He gathered his energy to break free, but the ice was impossibly hard, utterly unyielding. Gritting his teeth, he cried out:

“Wait! I have something to say—it's about whether your Jin Xue Palace can enter the First Snow Hall!”

At these words, Wen Yuge’s hands paused, the moonlight spell faded, and the ice stopped spreading up Wan Xudong’s neck. Tears of relief welled up—he had survived, after all.