The protective runic barrier surrounding Ring Four instantly frosted over with thick, jagged layers of rime ice.
From the eastern stairs, Xie Wangchen stepped onto the black stone.
He didn't walk. He glided, his boots leaving perfectly crystallised footprints of frost on the indestructible floor.
He wore his immaculate Ice-Silk robes, the silver crown resting flawlessly in his dark hair. But his face... his face was a mask of sheer, unfiltered, demonic slaughter.
Wangchen's eyes weren't just glowing blue; they were burning with an abyssal, freezing hellfire.
He didn't look at the crowd, locking his gaze onto Mo Wuchen with the absolute, chilling certainty of a predator looking at a cockroach it was about to step on.
In the stands, Lin Ji'an stopped eating her melon seeds. She sat up straight, a shiver running down her spine.
