The ice was still thick, but the world outside was screaming. From the burning red clouds, thousands of Void Apostles—monstrous, faceless warriors clad in obsidian armor—descended upon the Sword Pavilion. They weren't there to capture; they were there to harvest.
"Hold the line!" Lei Zhan roared, his lightning armor flickering as he fought off three Apostles at once. "If the glacier breaks before he wakes up, we are all dead!"
The Divine Medicine Valley's defensive arrays were shattering. Every time an Apostle struck, they didn't just cause wounds; they sucked the Qi directly out of the disciples' meridians. The Alliance was being bled dry.
Suddenly, the massive glacier in the center of the hall let out a sound like a world-ending bell. CRACK.
A surge of neutral grey energy exploded outward, vaporizing a dozen Apostles instantly. Lu Chen stepped out of the mist. He looked different—his hair had turned a permanent, ghostly silver, and his eyes were a swirling vortex of gold and grey. In his hand, Aether-Zero didn't glow; it seemed to delete the light around it.
He didn't speak. He didn't need to. He moved with the "Strokes of Non-Existence," but faster than even Fang Yuan's projection. With one swing, he didn't just cut an Apostle; he erased the space they occupied.
"Go back," Lu Chen's voice was a haunting echo, vibrating with the power of the Tenth Law. He wasn't looking at the monsters; he was looking through them, straight at the obsidian throne thousands of miles away. "Tell him the grain has grown teeth."
Beside him, Yue Xiao collapsed, her life-force nearly extinguished from the freezing ritual. Lu Chen caught her, his touch no longer cold, but steady.
"I don't remember the name of the girl I loved," he whispered to her, "but my soul recognizes the warmth of yours. Rest, Xiao. I will finish this."