An Understated Dominance

The cluster of igloos spread across the valley like a white beehive, with cooking smoke weaving a dense net under the lead-gray sky. Following Batu, Li Guanglong arrived at the snowman tribe. Led by Batu, the group passed through the bustling streets. The ice beneath their feet had been worn smooth as glass by tens of thousands of steps, reflecting the snow hawks circling overhead. Snowmen along the way paused to salute, while children clung to icy windows, peering curiously. Around their necks hung bone necklaces of varying styles --- some set with turquoise, others sealed with dark-red resin. “This is Snowfang Valley,” Murong Xue whispered, keeping his voice low. “The tribe numbers eight thousand three hundred, divided into twelve hunting parties.” He lifted his hand, pointing toward the massive ice sculpture carved into the Cliffside --- a three-eyed figure with glowing crystals set in its sockets. “The highest point is the Ice Temple, where rituals are held. The chieftain...

Li Guanglong gripped his sword tightly, his knuckles turning white from the strain. The footsteps outside the cave grew nearer, accompanied by heavy breathing and the crisp crackle of breaking ice, as though a herd of giant beasts was crushing across the snowy plains. He signaled his soldiers to extinguish the torches, leaving only the faint blue glow from the minerals on the cave walls, which stretched the shadows of more than thirty men long and narrow against the damp moss. “Hu --- chi… hu --- chi…” Out of the shadows emerged several towering figures, each as wide as two ordinary men at the shoulders, their entire bodies covered in gray-white fur, as if woven from the threads of polar ice. In their hands were long spears tipped with sharpened ice crystals, refracting the pale light from outside and casting flickering cold gleams against the rock walls. The leader wore a string of icy beads around his neck, each bead encasing tiny beast bones, clinking sharply as he moved...

The spirit deer ignored the ice turtle entirely. It walked straight up to Li Guanglong, stopped, turned its head, and fixed its pale-blue eyes on him. Then it gave a shake of its head, as though gesturing for him to follow. “This deer… could it be saving me?” Li Guanglong was stunned, torn between doubt and astonishment. It made little sense, yet with the ice turtle looming menacingly nearby, he had no choice. Gathering his men, he followed where the deer led. The turtle stared after their retreating figures, hesitated a moment, then turned back and sank beneath the murky waters, vanishing into the depths. The deer led Li Guanglong, Wan Zhong, and the others across the desolate snowfields, pausing now and then, until they reached the mouth of a concealed cavern. The entrance was sealed by thick layers of ice. The spirit deer exhaled a misty breath, and the ice melted instantly, revealing the cave beyond. Inside, the air was warm as spring, a world apart from the frozen wild...

When the enormous body of the Ice Turtle surfaced on the lake, the cracking of the ice rang out like thunder exploding across the snowy plains. Muddy lake water surged forth, carrying shards of ice, while the shoreline froze into a steep, jagged slope of ice. The carapace on its back gleamed with a cold bluish-gray light. Each protruding plate looked like a carefully sculpted block of icy rock, with edges sharp enough to slice the air. Its two scarlet eyes rolled, scanning the terrified crowd on the shore. When its chilling gaze fell upon  Li Guanglong , it carried an almost human-like scrutiny. “Fall back!” Wan Zhong bellowed, using his one arm to drag Li Guanglong backward. He had just endured the brutal fight with the giant crab monster and knew well the horror of these deep-sea beasts—this Ice Turtle’s sheer bulk alone dwarfed the deck of the  Stormbreaker . Jagged icicles as long as ten feet hung from its shell, proving it was no ordinary creature. The soldiers had alread...

The ice sculptures shimmered with a cold light in the biting wind, the soldiers’ twisted faces sealed inside the crystalized frost, as if still crying out from the agony of being frozen alive. Li Guanglong stared at those figures, his Adam’s apple rolling a few times as he forced down the tremor in his chest. He raised a hand to rub his still-stiff arm. The spot that had been swept by the white mist earlier was still faintly bruised with purplish-blue, the chill seeming to seep deep into his very bones. “Your Highness, that spirit deer carries a poisonous cold beyond imagination.” Wan Zhong leaned on his blade as he walked over, the wound on his lone arm having split open again from the cold. Blood seeped through the bandages, dripping scarlet dots onto the snow. He gazed toward where the deer had vanished, his eyes full of dread. “We’d best hold our camp steady for now, and not recklessly provoke the creatures of this island again.” Li Guanglong nodded silently. His earlier ...

The lead-gray clouds had barely lifted from the sails of the  Raging Wave  when shards of floating ice, carried by the waves, smashed against the hull with sharp “creak-creak” sounds. Li Guanglong gripped the rail, chilled by the sea wind, and looked ahead. The sudden outline of an island appeared before him, and a flash of ecstasy crossed his eyes. After enduring the attack of the giant crab fiend and braving the fog belt, they had finally caught sight of Penglai Island. But as the  Raging Wave  slowly approached the shore, everyone froze in shock. Unlike the ancient texts that described it as  “a land of eternal spring, with jade blossoms blooming year-round” , the island before them was buried under a thick sheet of ice. The world was pure white; even the sea wind carried a bone-piercing chill, slashing across their faces like knives. Jagged ice clung to the reefs along the shore. Waves struck them only to freeze instantly into crystalline blossoms of ice, pi...

They waited like this for three whole days and nights. On this island, day and night alternated at a strange pace --- in the daytime the sun blazed like midsummer, yet at midnight one could see snow filling the sky. The soldiers took turns keeping watch outside the courtyard fence. They watched the morning glories bloom and wither again and again, watched the basket of wild fruit inside the yard empty and fill up once more, yet never again did the child appear, nor did the so-called immortal show himself. Whispers began to spread --- some said this was nothing but an empty island, and the child was merely a spirit guarding it; some secretly threw stones into the bamboo grove, only for them to rebound off an invisible barrier and smash into their own heads, leaving them bloodied. Li Juntang never said a word. Each morning, he would tidy his battle robe, bow respectfully toward the tightly closed bamboo gate, then sit on a rock with eyes closed, as if firmly convinced someone ins...