The northernmost part of East Land is a vast ice field.
The ice and snow that never melt and the freezing temperature where water freezes into ice are enough to kill all weak lives, leaving only thick-skinned and bloodthirsty beasts.
In the overwhelming snow curtain, the black afterimage was particularly conspicuous. There was a person running at full speed. In a blink of an eye, he climbed to the top of the mountain among the clouds, passed through countless palace walls and pavilions, and came to the tallest and widest palace.
Visitors who are at such a state of mind that they can walk on the snow-capped peaks as if they were on flat ground can only stand outside the hall with their clothes lowered, waiting respectfully for the instructions to be passed down from level to level.
Finally, the palace door opened. The colorful lights suddenly poured out, and accompanied by the warm and intoxicating breeze and the melodious music of stringed instruments, the visitor walked into the palace.
The palace door closed behind him, and the snowy sky turned into the warm spring of March.
At the end of the magnificent hall, a woman's graceful figure was reflected in the layers of silk curtains, leaning against a soft couch with a golden quilt.
Even though her face could not be seen clearly through the veil, everyone who saw this scene would have an inexplicable intuition that she was an unparalleled beauty.
The person in the tent did not move, and the newcomer did not dare to look up, but he could feel a sharp gaze falling on him, as if it was ready to cut his skin and bones into pieces at any time.
He calmed himself down, knelt down and bowed.
"Palace Master, someone has seen the Lord at the border of the Western Continent."
After a long while, until the kneeling man was sweating profusely, a hand stretched out from the gauze curtain.
Delicate and beautiful, like an orchid about to bloom.
For a moment, it seemed as if the incense in the temple became more fragrant.
The hand waved, and the music, singing and dancing fell silent. The musicians and dancers retreated silently.
The kneeling man held up a crystal bead and said, "The spy we planted in the Green Palace carried a photo bead with him. The last image he sent back before his death was that of Your Majesty."
With a wave of her slender hand, the bead stopped at her fingertips.
She played with the pearl and stood up from the tent. Her body was as soft as boneless, and she was covered with a light and transparent jade-colored gauze dress.
She stood barefoot on the mirror-clear glazed bricks.
The square bricks reflected her extraordinary features.
The reliefs and pearls on the golden walls, the palace lanterns and colorful ribbons on the painted beams, all dimmed.
Yu Zhanmei suddenly felt a little bored, because she was so beautiful, but no one here dared to look at her.
She seemed to sense something when the Sword Master stepped into the wasteland, but the Saint was above, and no matter what he wanted to do, she couldn't stop him, or even ask him.
Now that the saint is gone and Yu Shi is seriously injured, she wants to leave Donglu. Who can stop her?
The time of Bei Huang's death is approaching, and the teacher in the academy is also getting old.
The woman looked at the beads and smiled, like the spring breeze in March blowing the willows on the river bank.
Her voice seemed to be intoxicated by the spring breeze, "Let's go and see the Lord."
"The Palace Master is coming——"
"The Palace Master is coming——"
The announcements spread one after another, echoing from countless palaces and halls to the silent snow-capped peaks. From the bright yellow glazed tiles to the green pines on the cliffs, the snow on them was shaken off.
********
The night is dark and the cold moon breaks through the clouds.
Yin Biyue sat on a big tree, wrapped in a black cloak. His figure was almost invisible because of the dense and huge tree canopy.
Compared to the fat sheep waiting to be slaughtered when he first came to East Land, no hunter would easily provoke him now.
He looked far away and could see the edge of the wilderness. He calculated the journey and knew that he would be able to leave here and reach the nearest town tomorrow.
Under the cold and bright moonlight, he took out the book in his arms. It was the book "The Evil Fairy and the Cold and Pretty Concubine" that the dean gave him.
Yin Biyue originally thought that these were a collection of folk stories, until he started reading the first book three nights ago, when he discovered that they were actually several volumes of notes.
Or the notes of the real immortal Lingxiao.
There is no inheritance of skills, no sword moves, only daily life and practice, even a little trivial. If it weren't for the matching of the time period and major events, and the handwriting being the same as the fragment of Lingxiao Sword in the library of the academy, it would be hard to tell that this is the life of a true immortal.
Yin Biyue was initially incredulous, but after comparing the details with the historical books he had read, he found that these notes were more logical. Some of the doubts about the "Age of All Saints" and the "Great War between Taoism and Demons" also had reasonable explanations.
He had never been so close to the truth of history, but the more he read, the more frightened he became, because Yi Lingxiao's narrative tone was like that of a time traveler.
"Mo Changyuan is an idiot. The temple is unreliable. The battle is about to start tomorrow. The morale of the troops is low and it will be hard to lead them..."
Who could have thought that Yi Lingxiao would write such words before the earth-shaking battle between Taoism and demons.
Later, the notes became more and more sloppy, indicating that the recorder was in a state of anxiety.
"I saw Mo Changyuan today. He has changed. Compared to when he was a child, I can no longer recognize him..."
"He can't turn back. I killed him. I didn't want this."
"I haven't lived a good life. It's terrible."
Yin Biyue closed the book, feeling endless confusion.
The description in the notes was brief, but inexplicably vivid. Yin Biyue couldn't help but think that if he were Yi Lingxiao, he would write something like this.
They would also give it names that are unpleasant and boring, such as 'Evil and Charming Fairy and Cold and Pretty Concubine'.
But if Yi Lingxiao is really a time traveler, then what kind of world is this?
No matter how you look at it, Yi Lingxiao looks like the protagonist in an X-point article.
Yin Biyue shook his head slowly, and felt that this world could not be judged by common sense.
At first he thought his senior brother was the protagonist, but when he jumped off the cliff, the senior's teaching of skills turned out to be a scam, and his senior brother's Galan pupil technique suddenly changed into the configuration of the villain BOSS.
Later, he met his master who was the best in the world, and thought that such a cool winner in life should always be the protagonist. However, his master went into the sword tomb alone, and no one knew when he would come back.
He put the book in his arms and looked at the bright moon in the sky through the shadows of the trees.
Suddenly I remembered that my senior brother was in Cangya, and he looked up at the same moon.
There is a saying, "We are all at the same time, even though we are far apart in the world." The more Yin Bi thought about this, the quieter she became.
Coming here to practice, I feel more real and have a stronger sense of belonging than my previous long life. It is no longer important whether the world has a script or not. Even if I still have the aura of a "villain", I don't want to be a villain anymore.
He just wanted to practice sword skills, become stronger, live a good life, live up to his master's trust, and change his destiny.
Yin Bi laughed more and more, then suddenly turned his head, restraining his breath and concentrating.
The life of fighting along the way not only improved his combat awareness, but also his five senses and judgment.
It was a huge group of people crossing the wilderness, and in the middle of the group was a huge chariot as tall as a palace.
Four powerful Mahayana masters carried the chariot, shrinking the distance to an inch. Although they were moving at a fast speed, the chariot was stable and motionless like a mountain.
They came from the north, bringing with them the chill of the icy plains. The hundred-mile wasteland was deathly silent in the night.
Yin Biyue guessed the identities of these people, and knew clearly that he could not defeat any of the people carrying the sedan chair, let alone the graceful figure in the curtain.
He looked to the north and vaguely saw the snow-capped peak among the clouds, isolated and out of reach.
The Golden Palace, the most powerful of the twelve palaces, is located above, having inherited the foundation of the Demon Palace before it split.
The Tongtian Snow Peak should be as cold and silent as a grave.
But in fact, thousands of years have passed, and no one is unaware of the luxury and prosperity there.
'The Golden Palace can satisfy everyone's fantasy of a fairyland', even if this statement only exists in legends, is enough to arouse people's imagination.
Although the royal family of Beilu lived in luxury, the people of Beihuangdu were also rich and happy. The entire imperial city, from the palaces to the streets, was a magnificent sight. It was common to see wine and meat in the rich houses, but it was rare to see frozen corpses on the roadside.
Donglu is another extreme, with a fairyland on the snow-capped peaks and a purgatory on the wasteland.
There was extreme scarcity and extreme luxury. Some people made a living by plundering and lived from day to day, while others indulged in pleasure and drank and sang.
Because the palace lord on the throne likes luxury, there is also ten feet of soft red in the ice and snow.
Yin Biyue never thought that he would meet this palace master so soon.
Even though you can only vaguely see a figure across more than ten miles of wasteland, the vast night and the curtain on the chariot, you will still feel that it is extremely beautiful and extremely dangerous.
He knew that when a powerful person of such level came in person, not a single blade of grass or a single tree in the wilderness could hide from his eyes and ears, so it would be meaningless to do anything or not do anything.
So at this moment he just held his breath and watched the team disappear at the edge of the wasteland in a blink of an eye. Fortunately, they were on their way.
His right hand unconsciously grasped the hilt of the sword.
He thought he was making rapid progress, only to find that when facing the most powerful men in the world, he was still as insignificant as an ant or a blade of grass.
Still not strong enough.
The Yihu Sword hummed softly in the night wind, as if it was unwilling, but also as if it was responding to its master's wishes.
***********
Cangya's disciples patrolled the northern border for many days, and found no trace of the demon cultivators in the towns and villages, so they changed their route and headed to Da Nang on the floating seashore.
If the demon cultivators want to come from the East Continent, they must cross the sea. Now, the merchant ships traveling to and from the East Continent have already received the news from Cangya Mountain and have stopped all operations. The customs inspection that has not been used for many years has been restarted. No matter where the ship comes from, it must be inspected when entering the port and pass through a formation to detect demonic aura.
Luo Mingchuan was worried that the formation would fall into disrepair, so after arriving in Da Nang, he intentionally tried to reinforce it and did not leave for a while.
Because of the demon cultivators entering the Western Continent, the once bustling port has become much quieter. Several large ships and the lighthouse standing not far away are silent in the sea breeze.
At the end of the field of vision, there is a thin line where the sea and the sky meet, and a few white seabirds are circling low.
Suddenly, a speck of black broke the silence of blue and white, splitting the water and breaking the waves at an incredible speed. In a blink of an eye, it was more than ten feet close to the coast, so close that the figure standing on the bow could be clearly seen.
The disciples on the shore were horrified. For such a small boat to cross the vast ocean, there must be a strong man navigating it.
"Oh no! It's a ship coming from the east! Quickly notify Brother Luo!"
“Who is it?!”
The ship was still far from the port. The person at the bow jumped up, stepped on the waves in mid-air, and his figure almost swayed.
The newcomer was shrouded in a black cloak, revealing only his thin and pale jaw. Although he had no demonic aura, his bloody murderous aura was almost condensed into substance, forcing people to breathe.
Five or six Cangya disciples wanted to draw their swords, but found that under such power, they couldn't even hold the hilt with their fingers.
The next moment, white sleeves fluttered between the sea and the sky. They suddenly felt relieved and showed joy on their faces, "Senior Brother Luo is here!"
The newcomer had reached the shore and stopped in front of Luo Mingchuan. The sea suddenly became calm, as if all the invisible blood and hostility had dissipated.
Luo Mingchuan smiled softly.
The hood of the cloak was removed, the sea breeze whistled, and the black hair and white hair were intertwined.
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