While Dustin and the others explored the ruins within the mountain, the region at the foot of Mount Aethermoor had already descended into chaos beneath the golden barrier. Tens of thousands of people had been randomly transported onto platforms scattered around the mountain’s base.
With no leadership and no order to restrain them, the only law that remained was survival of the fittest. The strong killed the weak, while those unable to resist became servants or even food.
On the largest platform at the mountain’s base, Evander stood with his hands clasped behind his back, observing the chaotic slaughter unfolding below with cold detachment. Beside him, Elowen idly toyed with a wildflower she had picked somewhere nearby.
“These insects are so noisy,” she said, frowning. “They won’t be noisy for long,” he replied calmly. “This place runs on survival of the fittest. Most of them will be gone soon.”
“But we’re trapped here as well,” Elowen complained with mild irritation. “We had planned to sit back and reap the rewards afterward, yet now we have been dragged into this ridiculous game as well.”
“A game?” Evander responded with a faint smile. “You can say that. But a change in the rules isn’t necessarily a bad thing. There are far more opportunities on this mountain.”
His gaze swept across the platform before settling on Anders, who was not far away, gathering the remnants of his scattered troops. He went on, “And besides… Some people should finally begin to serve their purpose.
At that moment, Anders was leading a group of elite troops from the Mosey mansion along the edge of a platform, gathering survivors who had been scattered by the chaos. Wearing a gentle and reassuring smile, he spoke calmly to the frightened civilians and wandering cultivators who had taken refuge nearby.
“Join my party. If we stay together, everyone will have a better chance of surviving,” he said.
In less than half a day, he had already gathered nearly 100 people, greatly strengthening his force. However, beneath the warmth of his expression, a cold calculation lingered deep in his eyes.
Occasionally, his gaze drifted toward the direction where Evander was said to be advancing, and a complicated mixture of emotions flashed across his face. There was caution, respect, and also a trace of resentment.
“My godfather ordered me to follow the Quinton family’s command,” Anders thought silently, his expression remaining composed while the thought sharpened in his mind.
“But I wasn’t born to live forever beneath another man’s shadow. Once I obtain enough opportunities on Mount Aethermoor, the situation may not remain the same.”
Deep within the Glacial Abyss, the Frost siblings were advancing with the few remaining members of their family. The route through the ravine had always been treacherous.
After the forced teleportation scattered their people, many had disappeared along the way. Now fewer than ten remained at their side.
“Your injury hasn’t healed yet,” Albus said, glancing at Blanche with clear concern as they moved carefully across the frozen terrain. “You should rest for a moment.”
She shook her head and continued forward without slowing down.
“I’m fine,” she said. “There’s a glacial cave ahead, and I can feel that the cold energy inside is extremely pure. There may be something there that suits our cultivation.”
He nodded and stayed close beside her, quietly shielding her as they pressed onward. When they finally reached the cave, they found the entrance sealed behind a thick wall of dark ice.
Raising a sword finger, Albus released a tightly compressed stream of frost sword aura, and the barrier of dark ice split apart with a sharp crack.
Inside the cave, the cold was overwhelming. At the center stood an icy platform, and resting upon it was a crystalline longsword. Its transparent blade shimmered faintly as currents of light flowed within it. When he stepped closer, the sword gave a bright, eager hum before lifting from the platform and flying directly into his hand.
“Has… Has it acknowledged you as its master?” Blanche asked, her voice bright with surprise. Albus held the longsword in his hand and felt the faint sense of affinity flowing from the blade into his palm. A flicker of excitement passed through his eyes.
This sword was far stronger than the one he had carried before. Within it, he could also sense what appeared to be a complete sword technique sealed inside the weapon itself.
He had just begun to calm his mind in preparation to study the technique when a sudden commotion erupted outside the cave. Several figures rushed inside, and at their head stood none other than the Jornell family elder, Zephyrin.
“Brats of the Frost family, you weren’t easy to track down,” he said with a vicious grin. “Hand over whatever treasures you obtained here. Do that, and I might grant you a cleaner death.”
Albus stepped forward with the sword in hand and met him with a cold gaze. “Scum of the Jornell family, did you not learn your lesson last time?” he snapped.
Zephyrin’s face darkened instantly as the humiliation from Storm Ridge resurfaced in his mind. The memory of being badly wounded by a single strike from Albus filled him with rage.
“You bastard!” he spat. “Last time I was careless. This time, I brought enough men with me. Let’s see how arrogant you can still be.”
At his signal, more than a dozen Jornell family experts surged forward together. Albus let out a cold snort. He drew the newly acquired sword in a single motion and swept it outward as a blade of bone-chilling sword light burst from the edge.
Where the light passed, the air itself froze and crystallized. Three Jornell family experts failed to dodge in time. The instant the sword light struck them, their bodies locked in place and froze solid, turning into lifeless ice statues.
