The air within a hundred-meter radius gradually froze, and the ground became covered in a layer of frost.
Finally, more than twenty masters of the Demon Path closed in, coming within a hundred meters of Chen Xiaorong. The one leading them was Su Ying, the same man whose underlings had been killed by Zhao Zuo. A wide, eager smile was plastered on his face.
"Fairy Chen, if you had retreated directly, I'm afraid we really wouldn't have been able to catch you. But since you've chosen to walk into death's embrace, we'll have to graciously accept your gift."
"I never thought of retreating or leaving. I came here to kill every last one of you."
Chen Xiaorong's tone was light, yet it carried the chill of a harsh winter day, like a freezing wind. Layers of ice crystals spread out from her feet as she burned what little Mana she had left.
