Time passed by slowly, and Zhang Yuan remained motionless, curled up behind a rock.
He was like a frozen statue, with a thin layer of frost covering the surface of his clothes.
But this layer of frost was unable to fend off the encroachment of the surrounding yin energy.
At this moment, Zhang Yuan's skin was extremely cold, his breathing and heart rate had dropped to the lowest point, and his life aura was completely absent, making him look no different from a corpse.
However, beneath his skin, pure true essence flowed quietly through his meridians, forming an impregnable barrier against the invasion of yin energy.
In front of the cold pool, the corpse of the Wolf King lying on the ground was gradually freezing as well.
The lingering life aura had nearly dissipated.
This stirred a slight wavering in Zhang Yuan's confidence.
The human-faced butterfly had not appeared.
Perhaps this was its habitat, but it happened to be away at this time.
