#3
Three days later, in a mountain region not even marked on the most detailed maps.
The snow had stopped, replaced by a silence far more terrifying—the silence of eternal ice. Here, no trees grew. Only stone and ice, shaped into strange natural sculptures by winds that had blown for thousands of years. The sky was steel-gray, without sun, without clouds—flat and cold.
Fang Jia Ying walked, but no longer alone.
The Frostwolf—whom she had named Bai Xue (White Snow)—walked beside her, steps light on the packed snow. The wolf seemed to know this path, often pausing to sniff the air before guiding them through nearly invisible rock crevices.
Jia Ying's body had changed further. Her hair was now completely white, like Bai Xue's, glimmering softly in the dim light. Her eyes remained ice-blue, but now held a strange depth—as if peering into a frozen pool of profound darkness. And the pattern on her chest—the Heavenly Frost Dao Bone—now glowed permanently, its pale blue light illuminating her tattered robe.
She could still sense the three frozen hunters. Not with regret, but as… a connection. Like three cold points on the map of her awareness, pulsing faintly from afar. Her power had grown, but at a cost. Every use brought new understanding—and loss.
"We're almost there," she murmured to Bai Xue, not in words, but through feeling. A strange bond had grown between them. Not verbal communication, but an exchange of images, sensations, emotions.
Bai Xue nodded, then let out a low growl. Danger. Memory. Sorrow.
Images flowed into Jia Ying's mind: a hidden valley, ruins of grand buildings carved from stone and ice, and in the center, a half-collapsed tower topped with a crystalline snow spire.
"Your home once?" Jia Ying asked.
Bai Xue sent feelings of home and loss.
They climbed one final slope, and there it was—spread beneath them—a valley buried by time.
Frozen Soul Abandoned Sect.
It must have been magnificent. Jia Ying could see remnants of massive walls surrounding the valley, built from bluish-gray stone blocks etched with frozen wave patterns. The main gate, now collapsed, still bore carvings of two Frost Phoenixes entwined.
But ruin lay everywhere. Buildings crumbled, roofs caved in, columns snapped like giant bones protruding from the snow. And something else—signs of battle. Black scars on stone (fire), deep cracks in the ground (energy blasts), and in some places… bones.
Not all human. Some were too large, too oddly shaped. Bones of ice creatures.
Bai Xue let out a low, mournful howl. He ran ahead, leaping over ruins with familiar ease, toward the center of the valley where the crystal tower stood.
Jia Ying followed, her heart racing with conflicting emotions. This was a terrifying place—a mass grave of something great. Yet… it felt like home. The air here felt right in her lungs. The cold welcomed her, like an old friend.
She stopped in front of the tower. Ten stories tall, built from the same stone as the walls, but inlaid with ice crystals along every edge. At the top, a giant snow crystal—tall as two people—still stood, leaning precariously. It reflected light strangely, creating tiny rainbows in the air.
The tower's door hung open, eroded by wind and time. Above the threshold, an inscription in an ancient language:
"Here sleeps the memory of winter. Here waits the frozen legacy."
Jia Ying could read it—though she shouldn't have been able to. The language was foreign, yet its meaning flowed directly into her mind, as if it had always been there.
"Wait here," she said to Bai Xue, then stepped inside.
Inside the tower, time seemed different.
The floor was covered in dust and rubble, but the air… did not smell of rot. It smelled like an ancient library, a mix of parchment, ink, and something sweet—ice lily, a flower that grew only in the coldest places.
The main chamber was circular, with bookshelves lining the walls. Thousands of scrolls and books—mostly destroyed, a few intact. At the center, a large stone desk with a high chair. And behind the desk…
Someone sat.
Jia Ying froze, her right hand automatically reaching for her ice sword, yet the figure remained still.
She approached cautiously.
It was an old woman—or at least appeared old. Her hair was white, like hers now, cascading to her shoulders. She wore a deep blue robe embroidered with silver ice-crystal patterns. Her hands folded in her lap, holding a pale blue wooden box.
And she… opened her eyes.
But not living eyes. They were like crystal—clear, pale blue, unblinking. And her body… transparent. Jia Ying could see the desk behind her through her form.
A spirit. A remnant soul left behind.
"Long time," the spirit said, voice like wind through ice crevices. "Very, very long since the last heir came."
Jia Ying froze. "Who… who are you?"
"Once, I was Elder Xue Feng," the spirit replied, a faint smile forming on her transparent lips. "The last Master of the Frozen Soul Sect. And now? The last guardian. The last sentinel."
The spirit gazed at her, eyes of crystal piercing the soul. "And you… you bear it. Heavenly Frost Dao Bone. I can feel it pulsing in your veins, like a second heart."
"Is this it?" Jia Ying pointed to the pattern on her chest. "What is this? Why do I have it? Why is all this happening to me?"
Elder Xue Feng raised her transparent hand. "Many questions. My time is short. My spirit almost gone. But for the heir… I will answer."
She rose—or floated—and walked to the bookshelves. Her hand passed through the physical books, yet one particular book glowed blue as she touched it. She pulled it out, and it became real in her hands.
"History," she said, placing the book on the desk. "Begins with the truth: you are not an ordinary human. At least, not entirely."
She opened the book. On the first page, a stunning illustration: a majestic ice palace atop the tallest mountain, with white-haired, blue-eyed women walking in crystal gardens.
"The Eternal Winter Palace," whispered Elder Xue Feng. "Home of the Frost Sovereign Clan. An ancient ice-human race born of pure ice. They were no ordinary cultivators—they were the embodiment of ice itself."
Jia Ying stared at the image, her heart pounding. "Am I…?"
"Descendant. A hybrid," Elder Xue Feng turned the page. The next illustration showed a battle: ice-women against human armies of fire and steel. "A thousand years ago, the Elemental War. The Frost Sovereign Clan was deemed too powerful, too different. They threatened 'balance.' So the world united against them."
The next page: the palace collapsed, ice-women slain, their blue blood staining the snow.
"But some escaped," the Elder continued. "They hid among humans, diluted their blood, married ordinary humans. Their power lay dormant. Yet sometimes… it awakens."
She looked at Jia Ying. "Heavenly Frost Dao Bone is that blood manifesting in its original purity. It is the clan's supreme legacy. And it is… also a curse."
"Curse?" Jia Ying echoed.
"Because the world has not forgotten. Heaven's Enforcers—an organization formed after the war—still hunts the remnants of ice blood. And they have the means to detect it." Elder Xue Feng pointed to the pattern on her chest. "It glows like a beacon to them. They will come. They always come."
Jia Ying remembered the fear in Elder Peng's eyes. "Violet Cloud Sect… they worked with Heaven's Enforcers?"
"All the major sects do. It's part of the pact. In exchange for freedom, they report every 'anomaly.'" The Elder sighed—a breath unnecessary for a spirit. "The Frozen Soul Sect was founded by fugitives. A safe place for those with ice blood. But three hundred years ago… they found us."
She gestured to the broken window, to the ruins outside. "This is the result."
Jia Ying felt a deep sorrow, though she had never known this place. "And now? What should I do?"
"Choices," Elder Xue Feng said. "First: hide. Conceal your power, try to live normally. But with the Dao Bone awakened, that's nearly impossible. Second: run. Forever. Yet they will find you. Or third…"
She opened the wooden box in her hands.
Inside were three items: a milky-blue crystal talisman, a key of ice that seemed never to melt, and a thin book bound in Frostwolf leather.
"The full legacy," the Elder whispered. "This talisman holds the last memories of the Frost Sovereigns—who they were, what they could do. This key opens the Heritage Chamber beneath this tower. And this book… the Frozen Soul Scripture—true cultivation technique for ice blood."
She extended the box. "Take it. And you choose the third path: face them. Become strong so they cannot touch you. Restore what was lost."
Jia Ying stared at the three items. Her hands trembled. "I… I'm just a fishergirl. I didn't want this. I just wanted…"
"To live normally?" the Elder finished for her. Her transparent face full of grandfatherly affection. "My dear, you could never have that. Your blood rejects it. Your Dao Bone rejects it. The world rejects it."
She leaned closer. "Sometimes fate is not what we choose, but what chooses us. And your fate… was chosen a thousand years ago, in the ruins of the Eternal Winter Palace."
Jia Ying closed her eyes. She saw her life flash before her: the poor fishing village, Lin Feng arriving like a prince, three years of hope, and then… betrayal. Torn letters. Blue blood. Hunters. Living ice inside her.
She opened her eyes.
Cold. Ice-deep. Unyielding.
She took the box.
As her fingers touched the crystal talisman, a wave of memories surged over her.
She was no longer Jia Ying.
She was Sovereign Yi Xue, last queen of the Eternal Winter Palace. She stood atop the watchtower, gazing at the approaching forces—thousands of cultivators from all sects, bearing fire, bearing hatred.
"They fear us," whispered the voice beside her. Her younger sister, Yi Shuang, eyes just as blue.
"They should," Yi Xue replied. "We are winter. And winter comes for all."
But she knew they would lose. Too many. Too strong.
In her hand, she held the same crystal talisman. She filled it with her memories, her essence, her hope that one day, someone would come.
"For the heir," she whispered, just as the first fire arrow struck the gate.
Jia Ying returned to herself, sobbing. Tears ran down her cheeks—freezing into tiny crystals before reaching her chin.
"It… it's real," she murmured.
"Memories never die," said Elder Xue Feng, her voice fading. Her spirit began to dissipate. "Ice preserves. Blood remembers. The soul… continues."
She glanced toward the window, where Bai Xue waited patiently. "Your Frostwolf… he is the last of the guardians. He recognized your blood. He will guide you."
"And you?" Jia Ying asked, suddenly afraid of losing the only one who understood.
"My duty is complete." The Elder smiled, a peaceful smile. "I have waited three hundred years. Waiting for the heir. Waiting for hope. Now… I may rest."
Her spirit glowed, transforming into tiny blue particles of light.
"But wait!" Jia Ying shouted. "How do I use this? How do I become strong?"
The particles gathered, forming the last words in the air:
"Beneath the tower. Key opens. Scripture guides. And remember…
Ice is not just power.
Ice is patience.
Ice is memory.
Ice is…
The truth that cannot be burned."
Then the particles vanished, and Elder Xue Feng was gone.
Jia Ying stood alone in the empty chamber, the legacy box in her hands, silence all around.
Beneath the tower, in the chamber hidden for three centuries.
The ice key fit perfectly into a hole that seemed like only a decorative pattern in the floor. When turned, a section of the floor rotated, revealing a spiral staircase descending into darkness.
With the glowing crystal talisman as a lantern, Jia Ying descended. Bai Xue followed, his blue eyes vigilant.
The underground chamber was small, but full. Shelves with crystal bottles containing blue liquid (pure Frost Sovereign blood?). Weapons of ice that never melted (swords, spears, bows). Floating technique scrolls, protected by ice-energy fields.
And at the center, a stone pedestal with a single object: a crown.
Not gold, not jewels. But living ice—a pale blue crystal formed naturally in the pattern of winter tree branches, with a single large stone at its center containing… snowflakes that fell forever.
Jia Ying approached. The crown radiated a pull, like a magnet for her soul.
"For the Winter Queen to come," whispered a voice within her—Yi Xue's voice, the last Sovereign.
She reached out. As her fingers neared the crown—
EARTHQUAKE.
Not from below, but above. From the surface.
Explosions. Screams. And something else… heat.
Bai Xue growled, fur bristling.
Jia Ying withdrew her hand, running back up the stairs. Reaching the tower's main chamber, she looked out the broken window.
In the valley, among the ruins, figures in red-and-gold robes marched. Five, ten, maybe more. They carried spears with glowing red tips, and above them, triangles of fire rotated—a detection formation.
At their front, a young man in a flaming red robe stood, holding a bronze mirror that projected a beam toward the tower.
The beam struck the tower, and the pattern on Jia Ying's chest flared, shining like a beacon.
"The Heaven's Enforcers," Jia Ying whispered, heart pounding. "They found me."
The young man raised his voice, amplified by energy:
"FANG JIA YING! FORBIDDEN HEIR! SURRENDER OR WE WILL BURN THESE RUINS WITH YOU INSIDE!"
Jia Ying stepped back from the window, pressing against the wall. Hands clenched. On one side, the legacy box. On the other, a threat of death.
Bai Xue growled, ready to fight.
And within her, Yi Xue's voice spoke again:
"Your first battle as the true heir. What will you do, future Winter Queen?"
Jia Ying closed her eyes. She drew a deep breath. Cold filled her, clearing fear, clearing doubt.
She opened her eyes.
Blue. Cold. Certain.
She grabbed the Frozen Soul Scripture from the box, opening to the first page. The words glowed blue, entering her mind, instantly understood.
"Bai Xue," she said, voice calm as a deep lake of ice. "We will not run anymore."
She looked toward the crown below, then to the Heaven's Enforcers outside.
"We will fight."
And for the first time since the betrayal at Violet Cloud Sect, a smile formed on her lips.
A cold smile.
A dangerous smile.
The smile of the Winter Queen reborn.
"Let's show them," she whispered, ice forming into a sword in her hand, "why their ancestors feared winter."