The Deathless Tomb was pitch-black, so dark that even a fifth rank martial artist whose sense stretched more than five kilometers was rendered completely blind.0

That darkness mingled with the ever-harsher blizzard, as though lumps of icy night were pressing in from every side.0

Li Yuan’s braids had frozen into stiff icicles, his face numb and rigid, the pelt around his waist mere ornament now. The shadow blood circulating through him fell silent, his cultivation slipping from fifth to sixth rank, sixth to seventh rank, and still sinking.0

Snow fared better. Her body could take the cold; her eyes could still see. Warmth clung to her frame, her long legs giving off a constant heat.2

Li Yuan clamped his knees against the direwolf’s...0