Chapter Twenty: The Proud Frost Sword Technique

The thin slice of meat had barely hit the ground before it was instantly frozen into a slab of icy flesh. Landing on what had been soft snow, it shattered into several pieces.

Liu Yueming turned his head and began to walk towards them from afar, each step leaving prints in which icy blossoms quietly bloomed.

The cold wind blowing past Liu Yueming cut into Zhou Yu and the old man like knives, making even those who had taken the snow fox demon pill feel an unbearable chill.

Zhou Yu shivered and asked the old man, “What’s going on here? Has he lost control of his powers?”

The old man’s face bore a gravity never seen before; he was clearly tense. “Strictly speaking, it’s not a loss of control but the evil of the sword invading his soul.”

“What do we do?” Zhou Yu asked.

“Can I curse?” the old man muttered, eyeing the slowly approaching Liu Yueming.

“…”

“No? Then there’s nothing for it.” The old man stood and reached for the greatsword.

Zhou Yu rose too, fixing his gaze on Liu Yueming advancing through wind and snow. Liu Yueming’s handsome face was expressionless, his obsidian eyes devoid of emotion, unfathomable in their depth. He was like a peerless blade forged from millennia-old ice, exuding a killing intent colder than death itself.

With every step Liu Yueming took, Zhou Yu felt the cold intensify. “You should never have provoked him. Shouldn’t we be running for our lives now?”

The old man hefted the greatsword. “How was I supposed to know the boy was so fragile inside? Now we have no choice but to run! I could handle him when he was himself, but now, with the evil of the sword possessing him, his Frostbane Sword Technique has surely grown stronger. And since we can’t kill him, running is our only option.”

Before he finished speaking, Zhou Yu had already broken into a run, making sure to scoop up the frozen meat as he fled.

The old man was momentarily stunned, then cursed, “You think you can bully me because I’m old?” He chased after Zhou Yu down the mountain.

Liu Yueming watched the two retreating figures with icy indifference, the corner of his mouth lifting. “Think you can escape? Die, both of you!”

“This guy’s too dangerous—he’s actually lost control of his powers!” Zhou Yu shouted to the old man catching up beside him.

“It’s not a loss of control. It’s the evil of the sword invading the soul! Only those who practice the sword can suffer this,” the old man replied, striding rapidly with the greatsword on his shoulder.

“Isn’t there any way to fix this?” Zhou Yu asked, exhaling white breath that turned into fine ice crystals and drifted to the ground. He glanced back—Liu Yueming was already closing in.

Liu Yueming’s feet struck the snow with such speed he was almost airborne, trailing behind him a long dragon of swirling snow. His black hair whipped wildly behind him, making him seem like a god of slaughter descended to earth.

How could he be so fast? Was this the power granted by the evil of the sword? Cold sweat broke out on Zhou Yu’s back.

“You go ahead! I’ll hold him off!” the old man suddenly stopped, turning to face Liu Yueming and shouting at Zhou Yu.

“Hold him off, my foot! If you could, why would you be running with me?” Zhou Yu stopped as well.

The old man wanted to say more but held back. He focused, suddenly noticing a streak of white frost shooting from beneath Liu Yueming’s feet, arrowing across the ground toward them.

“Jump, now!” the old man yelled.

At his words, Zhou Yu leapt backward with all his might, and the old man vaulted three paces back as well. When they steadied themselves, they saw two crystalline ice flowers blooming where they had just stood, glinting with a cold light that sent a chill to the soul. It was a coldness that felt like falling into an icy abyss.

“How powerful,” Zhou Yu gasped. If he hadn’t jumped, he would have been frozen solid by now.

“The worst is yet to come!” The old man slashed open the skin on his hand, letting the greatsword drink his blood, then advanced with the now blood-red blade.

According to the old lore, the old man had C-level strength, but after invoking the Blood Sword Technique, he was likely at B-level. To face Liu Yueming possessed by the sword’s evil, he unleashed the Blood Sword Technique right away!

His white hair danced in the wind, and the red greatsword hissed in the freezing air, its crimson glow intensifying until it gleamed like a roaring flame.

No snowflake reached him before it was vaporized into droplets, which were then flung aside. As the old man charged through the snow, a mist of water veiled him, making him look like a raging tiger at full charge.

With unstoppable momentum, the tiger struck—his flaming sword cleaving through the snowy curtain, slicing drifting flakes, slashing toward the icy youth.

The bisected snowflakes didn’t have time to melt before they reformed in midair, spinning down to the earth.

The tiger plunged into the darkness, its form swallowed by night. For a moment, in Zhou Yu’s eyes, the old man vanished, leaving only the endless killing intent and absolute cold radiating from Liu Yueming, as stifling as the pitch-black night itself.

A spark of red pierced the darkness, growing ever brighter. The old man reappeared, his flaming greatsword clashing against Liu Yueming’s long blade in a deadlock of equals.

“Ah!” the old man roared, forcing Liu Yueming back with sheer strength, then lunged forward again with another mighty slash.

The greatsword glowed ever brighter, while the old man's face turned increasingly pale. He swung again and again, driving Liu Yueming back step by step.

Gradually, Liu Yueming was forced into retreat; the cold and killing intent around him began to fade, and in his deep, dark eyes, a fire of fury flickered to life.

“Ha!” Suddenly, Liu Yueming’s aura flared with icy light. His sword strikes doubled in speed, and in a heartbeat, the defense became offense—a single thrust aimed at the old man.

An immense, concentrated cold gathered at the sword tip, a blinding white light shining there—not with warmth, but with the freezing glare of an icy sun. This was the Frostbane Sword Technique’s first form—a single point of starlight.

On the snowy mountainside beneath the sun, one speck of starlight shone brighter than the sun itself, eclipsing all daylight in that instant.

The old man dodged desperately, swinging his greatsword horizontally to block the blade with the starlight.

The greatsword struck the long blade, making it tremble and causing that starlight to erupt, piercing the old man’s right arm.

His right arm was already gone, so the thrust missed, but even so, the cold that grazed him froze half his body. The second strike from Liu Yueming followed immediately.

Knowing he must not let the blow land or risk being frozen solid, the old man gathered his strength to dodge again.

But he quickly realized he could not evade this sword, its speed and deadliness surpassing the first. He could only place the greatsword crosswise before his chest, pouring blood into it without pause.

The second strike, colder than the first, landed on the greatsword. Around the point of impact, the red glow faded, and ice crystals began to spread outwards.

“Master!” Zhou Yu called out in deep worry.

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