Houtu lay limp on the ground, wrapped tightly in the pale-golden cocoon of light like a moth frozen in amber. On her world-toppling face, shock, anger, and disbelief were already set in stone; only those once-vibrant eyes, now losing their light, retained a last scrap of awareness — fixed intently on the white-clad figure leaning on his sword, swaying on the verge of collapse. Impossible… I command the power of the earth — within this palace I am invincible. He’s clearly spent his last breath — how could he still defeat me? Endless regret and venom gnawed at the remnants of her consciousness, but the seal acted like an invisible shackle, pressing her power and unwillingness down into that beautiful body; not even a sliver of spirit could escape. Not far away, Qingmu lay pierced at the shoulder in a pool of blood. In the haze of fading consciousness, he vaguely perceived Houtu’s vast, heavy aura abruptly extinguished. A bone-deep cold, mixed with searing pain, nearly made him black...