Jiuxiao Continent, the far north, ten thousand miles of snowy plains.
The wind and snow here are hundreds of times more brutal than in Qinglan City. Gale-force winds whip up ice shards like countless razor-sharp scrapers, capable of effortlessly stripping the fur and skin from wild beasts. As far as the eye can see, it is a vast expanse of white—a world of snow. The temperature is terrifyingly low; ordinary Body Tempering cultivators would have their blood congeal and turn into ice sculptures within moments of exposure here.
Deep within this lifeless禁区, stands a magnificent cluster of ice and snow structures—the Snowstorm Tower.
The Snowstorm Tower, a top-tier force in the north, controls resources across thousands of miles and boasts numerous disciples. All of them cultivate ice attribute martial arts and act with such ferocity that they inspire dread in others.
The tower's leader, "Frost Palm" Han Lie, is a Mid-Sea of Divine Power cultivator. In this frigid land, his Frost Palm true energy becomes even more potent, deterring peers of the same cultivation stage.
However, today, outside the fortress of the Snowstorm Tower, built from ten-thousand-year-old glacial ice, an unexpected visitor arrives.
A black figure walks slowly across the boundless snowy plains. His gait is composed, as if the bone-chilling cold that could crack metal and stone were nothing more than a spring breeze to him. Snowflakes whipped up by the gales melt and vanish mysteriously three feet away from his body, unable to touch him in the slightest.
He wears a simple black robe and has an ordinary appearance—the kind that would instantly fade from memory in a crowd. Yet his eyes are deep like the starry sky and cold like the heart of the ancient snowy plains, without a ripple.
He is Shen Mo, alias "Mr. Mo."
He stops before the ruins of a small, destroyed tribe. Several frozen corpses are half-buried in the snow, their faces frozen in expressions of terror and despair. An elderly survivor, trembling and crawling out from an ice cave, sobs piteously as he speaks of the Snowstorm Tower's atrocities.
"...They... they massacred everyone for the tribe's 'Ten-Thousand-Year Snow Crystal Core'... My father, my mother, and Little Ya... they're all dead..."
The Ten-Thousand-Year Snow Crystal Core is an extremely valuable material for forging ice-type magical treasures and breaking through cultivation bottlenecks.
Shen Mo listens quietly, his face expressionless, as if hearing a story unrelated to him. Only after the old man finishes speaking does he speak up in a calm voice, steady yet with a strange penetrating power that overcomes the howling wind and snow:
"Which direction is the Snowstorm Tower?"
The old man trembles as he points toward the distant, towering ice structures.
Shen Mo nods, says nothing more, and strides toward the death zone.
"Sir! You mustn't!" The old man cries out in horror, "That's the Snowstorm Tower! There are Great Cultivators at the Sea of Divine Power stage! You're walking into death!"
Shen Mo doesn't pause. His figure appears exceptionally lonely in the snowstorm yet carries an unwavering determination to press forward.
...
In front of the Snowstorm Tower fortress, four disciples clad in white fur robes and exuding formidable aura are on guard. Seeing the black-robed youth approaching alone, one of them barks loudly:
"Stop! This is the Snowstorm Tower's restricted area.闲杂人等, begone!"
Shen Mo acts as if he hasn't heard a word and keeps walking.
"Looking for death!" The disciple, enraged, draws a curved saber from his waist and slashes down with a cutting cold aura, revealing his Early Stage Body Tempering cultivation.
Without even sparing him a glance, Shen Mo merely raises his hand and snaps his finger casually.
A barely perceptible streak of black finger wind flashes by. The disciple's movements freeze instantly, the curved saber clatters to the ground, a tiny red dot appears between his eyebrows, the light in his eyes dims rapidly, and he collapses backward, breathless.
The other three disciples are horrified and draw their weapons while triggering the alarm.
A shrill bell tolls instantly throughout the entire Snowstorm Tower fortress!
"Enemy attack——!"
Numerous figures surge out from the fortress—most are Body Tempering disciples, along with several Sea of Divine Power executives and elders. Seeing the fallen disciple at the entrance and the leisurely strolling black-robed youth, the crowd is filled with shock and fury.
"What reckless fool dares to cause a disturbance at the Snowstorm Tower!" An early-stage Sea of Divine Power elder steps forward, hair and beard bristling, cold energy billowing around him. The ground instantly freezes into a thick layer of ice. With a roar, he claps his palms, unleashing two exceptionally condensed ice dragons that roar toward Shen Mo, freezing the air in their path.
Shen Mo doesn't pause for a moment. He simply raises his hand, palm forward, and a minuscule, light-devouring black vortex quietly materializes.
The two ferocious ice dragons crash into the vortex and vanish without a trace, like mud into the sea, not even rippling the surface. The violent cold energy is swallowed up completely.
The elder's pupils shrink abruptly, his face etched with disbelief.
Shen Mo strikes back with a reverse palm. No earth-shattering force, just an extremely condensed black palm print that arrives before the others, landing on the elder's chest.
A spray of blood erupts as the elder is sent flying backward, crashing through an ice wall and collapsing, motionless. His dantian and qi sea are shattered, his cultivation utterly destroyed.
"Form the array! Quickly activate the Mystic Ice Great Array!" a executive screams in terror.
Dozens of disciples swiftly move into position, their true energy intertwining to form a chillingly radiant array that instantly engulfs Shen Mo. The cold energy transforms into countless ice spears and swords, raining down like a storm!
The Annihilation Energy naturally flows around Shen Mo, forming an invisible force field. All ice weapons nearing him silently melt and disintegrate, their essence absorbed by him.
He points his fingers like a sword and slashes at the array's core.
With a tearing sound, a black blade of annihilation rips through the air, slicing the Mystic Ice Great Array's light barrier as if it were paper. The dozens of disciples controlling the array scream in unison, spitting blood and collapsing as the array shatters.
Unstoppable and overwhelming!
Shen Mo's advance never halts. In his path, Snowstorm Tower disciples are either killed or wounded, none able to withstand a single move. His footwork is bizarre and unpredictable, leaving trails of afterimages.
"You're too arrogant!"
A roar like thunder echoes. The Snowstorm Tower's deputy leader, a short and stocky man at the early-stage Sea of Divine Power realm, plunges from the sky wielding a massive ice crystal battle axe the size of a door panel. With the might to split mountains and crack rocks, he strikes down at Shen Mo's head! This is the Snowstorm Tower's signature technique—Ice Soul Mountain-Cleaving Axe!
Shen Mo finally stops. He looks up at the axe that seems capable of splitting mountains, yet his gaze remains calm. He extends two fingers to meet the blade, which carries a force of ten thousand pounds.
A deafening clang reverberates, piercing the eardrums.
The anticipated scene of Shen Mo being split in two does not unfold. Those seemingly slender fingers firmly pinch the massive ice crystal battle axe! Despite the deputy leader's best efforts to channel true energy, the axe cannot be pressed down another inch!
The deputy leader's face drains of color, his eyes brimming with horror.
Shen Mo applies a slight pressure with his fingers.
With a crack, the high-grade ice crystal battle axe begins to splinter from the blade, swiftly shattering into countless pieces and exploding into a shower of ice crystals!
Seizing the moment, Shen Mo strikes the deputy leader's chest with a palm. Annihilation Energy penetrates his body. The deputy leader lets out a cry of agony, flying backward like a broken sack and crashing into the depths of the fortress, his fate unknown.
The front courtyard of the Snowstorm Tower falls into a deathly silence. Only the howling wind and snow and Shen Mo's steady, clear footsteps remain.
"Enough!"
A voice filled with authority and rage erupts from the deepest part of the fortress. Accompanying the sound, a terrifying aura, far surpassing that of the deputy leader, sweeps out, revitalizing the spirits of all Snowstorm Tower disciples.
The tower leader, Han Lie, finally makes his appearance!
He is tall and imposing, with a sinister face surrounded by substantial blue cold energy. With each step, spiderweb-like cracks spread across the ice beneath his feet. The mid-stage Sea of Divine Power pressure is unleashed without restraint, attempting to intimidate the mysterious black-clothed youth before him.
"Who are you? What grudge do you bear against the Snowstorm Tower to resort to such brutality?" Han Lie stares at Shen Mo, his heart filled with shock and fury. He can barely discern the other's depth.
Shen Mo finally speaks, his voice calm and unrippled: "Taking money to settle others' disasters. Someone has bought the lives of the entire Snowstorm Tower."
Naturally, this is a pretext. His annihilation of the Snowstorm Tower is partly to seek justice for the massacred tribe, partly to test his own strength, and partly to announce to the world the existence of "Mr. Mo"!
"Arrogant!" Han Lie laughs in fury, "Do you think you can kill me? Die now!"
Wasting no more words and aware of the threat before him, Han Lie quickly channels his cold energy into a lifelike, hundred-foot ice dragon with formidable scales! This ice dragon is tens of times more powerful than the one the elder had summoned earlier! Its dragon might is overwhelming, as if capable of freezing souls!
"Ultimate Ice Dragon Kill!"
Roaring, Han Lie controls the hundred-foot ice dragon, which opens its gigantic maw and engulfs Shen Mo with a destructive cold intent! This is his signature move, once used to critically injure a peer cultivator!
Faced with this earth-shattering attack, Shen Mo's eyes narrow slightly. He senses the power of this move, enough to threaten an average late-stage Sea of Divine Power cultivator.
But he does not retreat. Instead, he confronts it head-on. The *Annihilation Swallowing Heaven Art* within him operates at full capacity, every pore on his body transforming into a tiny vortex.
"Swallow the Heavens!"
With a low growl, he spreads his arms wide, neither dodging nor avoiding, and directly faces the ice dragon's gaping maw!
To the horror of Han Lie and all Snowstorm Tower disciples, the hundred-foot ice dragon, capable of freezing entire cities, begins to collapse and dissolve upon contact with Shen Mo's body! The endless cold energy is absorbed into Shen Mo's body like rivers into the sea.
Within a few breaths, the formidable ice dragon is nearly half swallowed by Shen Mo!
Han Lie is shaken to the core. Connected to the ice dragon's energy, he spits out a mouthful of blood, his energy withering instantly. He feels his very life force being siphoned uncontrollably toward the other!
"What... what kind of devil art is this?!" Han Lie is terrified, as if encountering a ghost.
Shen Mo offers no reply. Having absorbed half of the ice dragon's power, his aura does not diminish but grows deeper and more terrifying. In one step, he covers dozens of feet, appearing before Han Lie, delivering a simple punch.
This punch, though plain in appearance, embodies the essence of annihilation, as if capable of reducing all to nothingness.
Han Lie desperately channels his remaining energy, erecting layers of ice shields before him.
*BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!*
The ice shields shatter like paper.
The punch lands on Han Lie's chest.
Time seems to freeze.
Han Lie's eyes widen, his face contorted with fear, unwillingness, and disbelief. He feels his life force being utterly extinguished by this strike.
"No... way..."
In the next moment, his body shatters like porcelain, disintegrating into a shower of icy blood and crystals, scattering in the wind.
The Snowstorm Tower's leader, the mid-stage Sea of Divine Power cultivator Han Lie, falls!
The tower leader's death becomes the final straw. The remaining disciples of Snowstorm Tower collapse into chaos, screaming and fleeing in all directions.
Shen Mo pays no heed to the scattered minions. He strides straight into the Snowstorm Tower's treasure vault. With a sweep of his divine sense, he locates the Ten Thousand Year Snow Crystal Core, radiating extreme cold, along with a bounty of spirit stones and rare medicinal herbs. Ordinary treasures hold no interest for him.
Having completed this, he makes his way to the pinnacle of the highest tower in the fortress.
The snowstorm rages on, yet an invisible barrier surrounds him, repelling the wind and snow.
He raises his hand and slowly removes the exquisite human-skin mask from his face, revealing his true features—Shen Mo. His face is handsome yet sharply defined, his eyes deep as the starry sky. Three years of arduous cultivation at the cliff's base and three years of battling in the outside world have stripped away his former naivety and卑微, leaving only icy resolve and the confidence to control everything. His cultivation has reached the peak of the Sea of Divine Power realm, with real combat strength rivaling the Ten Thousand Phenomena realm!
Gazing down at the chaotic battlefield and the fleeing figures, he feels no joy of revenge, only a cold, unrippled calm.
"Snowstorm Tower is but the beginning," he murmurs to himself, his gaze seeming to pierce through endless space to the familiar city in the south.
"Lin Fan, Qin Yao… did you ever think that the ants you casually crushed years ago now possess the power to annihilate a top-tier sect?"
"Qinglan City, it's time to return."
...
Meanwhile, in distant Qinglan City, at the Lin residence.
Lanterns hang and guests fill the halls. Toasts are exchanged amid an atmosphere brimming with celebration and flattery.
Today marks the triumphant return of young master Lin Fan of the Lin family.
Three years ago, he successfully joined the Flowing Cloud Sect and, by "submitting" a mysterious black jade pendant, earned merits and received sect rewards. His cultivation soared, and he is now a late-stage Body Tempering cultivator, hailed as a once-in-a-century genius of Qinglan City. The Lin family, leveraging his connection to the Flowing Cloud Sect, has seen their influence rise significantly.
Clad in magnificent robes, Lin Fan sits at the head of the table, accepting the toasts and praises of the guests with an air of self-satisfaction. Yet, beneath his smile, there occasionally flickers a barely perceptible shadow of unease. Lately, during his cultivation sessions, he has felt a strange stagnation, and his mind has often been restless.
Su Xiao sits in an inconspicuous corner of the hall, her face gaunt and her eyes desolate. Dressed in a simple, elegant dress that clashes with the surrounding festivities, she is held captive by the Lin family, her mother's safety threatened to force her into an engagement with Lin Fan. Unconsciously, she rubs the half-jade pendant engraved with the character "An" in her hand, her knuckles whitening from the grip.
Her heart had fallen into an abyss along with the youth on that snowy night three years ago.
An inconspicuous grey messenger bird slips through the bustling feast and quietly enters the window of a secluded inn within the city.
Inside the guest room, Shen Mo, now in disguise, removes a tiny bamboo scroll from the bird's leg and unrolls a piece of paper. It contains preliminary intelligence gathered by the Netherworld Palace regarding Lin Fan, Qin Yao, and the changes in Qinglan City over the past three years.
His gaze scans the information, and a cold, cruel smile slowly curves his lips.
"The feast is just beginning…"
"My 'brothers,' I'm back."