The cold spread relentlessly. Before long, even Pang Jian's physical body grew sluggish, his movements heavy and strained. 0

The Duke of Thunder's roars dwindled into silence. Pang Ling's joyous shouts ceased. The cold frosted over the branches of the World Tree, and the Divine Court of Thunder itself glittered under a creeping rime.0

Father. Pang Ling's voice echoed within Pang Jian's mind.0

Beneath Bai Zi's heaving chest came an unnatural rhythm as her heart pounded out of sync. Her flesh split open with fine, bloody fissures, as if invisible blades had carved into her body. 0

Injured and drenched in blood, she appeared as though on the last thread of life. Yet, she still managed to turn her...0