The air inside the ancient shrine thickened, as if congealed. The serpent demon's hiss carried a foul stench, seeping into every corner, making the entire chamber tremble. Khanh's heartbeat pounded against his chest, threatening to shatter his ribs. Each breath he drew came ragged and short, as though cut apart.
Vy stood firmly before him, both hands gripping a three-section staff so tightly that her knuckles turned white. Yet, despite her resolve, the faint tremor running through her arms betrayed her fear. Both of them understood—if the serpent lunged now, there would be no path left to escape.
Then, in that suffocating instant, something changed.
A chilling presence swept across the shrine. It was not wind, nor rain, but a cold so piercing, so ancient, it felt as though it had slumbered since the dawn of time and was only now awakening.
Khanh staggered. He felt the blood in his veins turn to ice, yet at the same time, the wounds raking across his body ceased to ache. A current of pure, strange energy surged through him, as if spring water flowed through his veins—reviving, sharpening, lightening. It was as though unseen hands were both lifting him up and pouring strength back into his soul.
Above them, countless emerald specks of frost appeared, glimmering like shards of fallen stars. They drifted slowly, casting a jade-green glow across the moss-stained walls, transforming the ruined shrine into a hall of crystal and glass. Beyond the walls, branches and withered leaves froze solid at the touch of the chill, each becoming a shard of translucent emerald, glittering beneath the pale moonlight.
The serpent shrieked. Its massive tail was impaled and bound by jagged spears of ice surging upward from the ground. Silver scales cracked open with sharp, merciless sounds, like metal shattering under pressure. The more it thrashed, the faster the emerald frost spread, pinning it down, encasing it, until its colossal body began to break apart.
And from within the rupturing scales, another figure appeared.
A girl. Thin, frail, her limbs trembling violently. Sweat-matted hair clung to her pale, bloodless face as she collapsed onto the frozen floor. Her wide, tear-filled eyes lifted toward them, quivering with desperation.
"P-please… save me…" Her voice splintered with fear, fragile as glass. "The demon… it's gone… but if this cold continues… I'll die here…"
Khanh froze. In front of him was no longer a beast, but a human being—a young girl bound and twisted within a monstrous shell. His chest tightened, conviction faltered. Vy bit her lip, her grip on the three-section staff loosening as her eyes flickered with doubt.
But before either could act, the mist around them shifted.
From the depths of frost and shadow, a silhouette emerged.
It was the form of a woman—slender, graceful, moving with slow, soundless steps. She spoke no words, revealed no emotion. Around her, the mist thickened, smothering all warmth, erasing every trace of life from the air.
Khanh's breath caught. That presence was not human. Just one glance from her, and he felt the blood in his body yearn to freeze solid.
A delicate hand lifted. The mist swirled inward, condensed, and from its heart a crystalline blade was born. The sword gleamed in translucent jade, its edge fine as mist, sharp as light itself—so breathtakingly beautiful it radiated terror.
"Stop!" Khanh's voice tore out, hoarse, as if ripping his throat apart. He lurched forward. Vy's eyes widened, horror etched deep into her face.
But the blade had already descended.
A dry, final sound cracked through the silence. The sword pierced the girl's forehead.
Blood burst forth in a scarlet stream, splattering against the emerald frost. Her eyes went wide, frozen in disbelief and terror, lips trembling soundlessly as the last glimmer of life drained from her gaze.
The woman did not pause. Her wrist twisted. The crystalline blade rotated, grinding through bone and flesh. Blood, marrow, fragments of skull spilled onto the frozen floor, staining the translucent jade with a grotesque fusion of brilliance and filth.
Khanh gagged, his body convulsing. He clamped both hands over his mouth, trembling violently as his stomach threatened to heave. Vy stumbled back several steps, her face drained of all color, eyes stretched wide in disbelief.
"Why…?" Khanh's voice cracked into a desperate cry. "She was human! Why kill her?!"
The woman offered no reply. Her gaze, colder than winter itself, swept across them—distant, detached, unyielding.
And within that suffocating silence, nothing remained but the mingled stench of blood and frost.