“Watch out!” Aveline warned as she drew her twin daggers and charged forward. Blanche followed closely behind, drawing her longsword rimed with frost.
The Frost family members quickly formed ranks and unleashed their techniques in unison. Intersecting arcs of icy spells and sword aura crisscrossed the gorge.
The glacial wraiths were formidable foes, especially within their native terrain. Their translucent forms flickered through the frozen air, and the ice blades in their hands were razor-sharp, each strike freezing the target.
One of the Frost family members was slashed across the arm. Frost raced along the wound, and within seconds, his limb went numb.
Albus’ eyes sharpened at the sight. Without drawing his longsword, he raised two fingers and gestured toward the injured man’s arm. A thread of icy sword aura, nearly visible yet refined to an extreme degree, shot forward and sank into the wound.
The spreading frost met something colder and purer than itself and was instantly driven back. The superior chill consumed the invading energy completely.
The injured Frost family member finally regained sensation in his arm. The wound remained, but the invading energy had been entirely dispelled. Aveline stared at Albus, stunned.
“Has his sword aura already reached such a level?” she thought. By countering the frostbite with an even purer cold energy, Albus displayed a mastery in his sword aura that exceeded anything she had anticipated.
He didn’t pause to explain. With a slight motion of his fingers, the crystalline longsword hovering at his side gave a low hum before transforming into a streak of azure light that wove through the horde of glacial wraiths.
Wherever the blade passed, wraiths froze solid and shattered, dissolving into drifting frost energy. Before the others could finish a single exchange, half the enemies had already fallen.
With Albus anchoring the formation, the team’s advance accelerated. Yet, the trials of the Glacial Abyss were far from over.
As they ventured deeper, a silent current of Soul-Freezing Astral Wind began to stir within the ravine. It didn’t affect the physical body, striking instead at one’s spiritual consciousness.
Those caught in its current felt their minds grow sluggish, their thoughts slowing as if encased in ice. Soon after, terrifying visions of freezing to death overwhelmed them.
The white pendant around Blanche’s neck released a gentle warmth at that moment. A steady current flowed through her, guarding the clarity of her inner sanctums.
Aveline and the others relied on their own techniques or artifacts to steady their minds. But one weaker Frost family member faltered.
The astral wind swept over him. His eyes turned vacant, and his movements stiffened. He nearly stumbled into the bottomless icy abyss beside the path, but a strand of Albus’ sword aura lashed out and pulled him back to safety.
At a bend in the ravine, they came upon the preserved remains of a long-deceased cultivator sealed within a massive block of dark ice.
The body remained seated in meditation, its features lifelike despite the passage of years. It wore archaic robes, and beside it lay an ice-blue emerald ruler. Spiritual light shimmered faintly within the artifact. Though tempered by countless seasons, it hadn’t lost its extraordinary energy waves.
“This is the preserved remains of a long-deceased cultivator,” Aveline said as she examined the ice and the ruler more closely.
She went on, “This dark ice is no ordinary substance. It was likely formed from the cultivator’s own cold essence at the moment of death. It serves as both a seal and a form of protection.
“As for this emerald ruler, it appears to be a high-grade auxiliary artifact of the ice element, suitable for establishing formations and amplifying ice-aligned techniques.”
To retrieve the treasure, they would need to break through the dark ice without damaging either the remains or the artifact within. The task would not be simple.
Albus stepped forward and placed his right palm lightly against the surface of the ice. He closed his eyes and concentrated. The crystalline longsword rose above his head as threads of exceedingly pure icy sword aura flowed from both his palm and the blade, seeping gradually into the dark ice.
He was using his sword aura to resonate with the preserved remains of the cultivator’s cold essence sealed inside. Moments later, a faint cracking sound echoed from within. Hairline fractures spread across the surface in a web of fine lines.
With a crisp shatter, the dark ice broke apart evenly, revealing the corpse and the emerald ruler within, both completely intact. Aveline carefully picked up the ruler and examined it. Her face lit up with joy.
“It is indeed a rare treasure,” she said. ” This is the Glacial Sky Measurer. It can establish ice formations and greatly amplify the power of ice-aligned techniques. It will be invaluable to us.”
The unexpected gain lifted the group’s spirits. During the earlier resonance, Albus appeared to have gained a deeper insight into his icy sword aura. His energy waves now felt steadier, more integrated than before.
After a short rest, the group continued upward. At the end of the Glacial Abyss stood a towering waterfall of dark ice, nearly 300 feet high and smooth as polished glass. Behind it, the faint outline of a cavern entrance could be seen.
That would be their next trial.
Meanwhile, the Jornell family had chosen Storm Ridge in the west. The route was infamous for its danger. The mountainside rose almost vertically, its exposed rock face devoid of vegetation, polished smooth by year-round astral winds and lightning.
The climb was brutal. One had to withstand violent gusts capable of hurling a person from the cliff, as well as golden celestial lightning that struck down from the skies without warning. The Jornell family had dispatched an impressive force this time.
An elder in the early stage of the Core-Forged realm, Zephyrin Jornell, led the expedition personally. More than 30 members accompanied him, the weakest among them already at mid-stage Adept, with several experts at their peak-stage Adept.
Alarion didn’t go with them. His injuries hadn’t healed, and he was required to oversee the family’s affairs. Yet, his resentment toward the Frost family had been passed on in full to those making this journey.
Zephyrin was tall and broad-shouldered, with a stern, ruddy face and a bristling beard. Faint arcs of lightning coursed around him, and his presence carried an unmistakable dominance.
He gazed at the sheer cliff before him, where wind and thunder roared without cease. Not only did he show no fear, but he also threw back his head and laughed.
“Storm Ridge suits the temperament of our Violet Firmament Thunder Art. Everyone, follow me upward. Let these winds and thunder temper our bodies and refine our souls.”
The rest of the Jornells responded in unison, their momentum rising like a surging tide.
