The night before tournament opened, camp quiet under moon. Students slept restless, adrenaline burning. Tang San trained slow, whispering vows. Mubai cleaned claws silent. Rongrong gazed at pagoda nervously.
Leng Xue sat at edge, carving stone piece with frost fingers, inscribing quietly lines destined for Frost Codex: We came mocked, we leave with roots deeper than gold pier. Fingers bleeding, cold flaring, but words etched steady.
Yan came behind, worried. "Brother Xue, will frost truly endure against them? So many geniuses." He looked up, expression calm, gaze endless sky. "Geniuses burn bright. Frost lingers when fire gone. We may lose glory, but not root."
Steps neared—Tang San himself, eyes gleam earnest. He looked over inscription silently before whispering, "Tomorrow, they'll see what frost means. Stand with me—we root and frost together."
Leng Xue's throat thickened. "Yes. Together."
When Tang San left, he bowed toward moon. Ancestor Tian within heart whispered back—his own first life etched eternal. You did not die useless. You stand again before continent.
The Eternal Tome glowed brilliance within frost veins: Continental Tournament Arc Initiated. Major Heritage Fork Approaches. Survival or Extinction of Frost Creed exposed to continent.
Sleep finally stole him, frost veil cocoon protecting camp, cool and steady. Tomorrow crowds would roar and sneer. Tomorrow monsters would prove. And tomorrow Leng Xue would carry Leng Clan's eternal snow onto greatest stage world knew.