Chapter 53: Three Feet of Icy Cold

Perhaps it truly was as Murong Xue had said—all of this had been predestined by the unseen hand of fate. Was I really supposed to yield to destiny? No! I was determined to defy the heavens themselves!

“Miss Murong, is there a way for you to leave the Misty Forest?”

“There is a way, but...” Here we go again! I didn’t know how much longer I could tolerate this—Murong Xue was always so hesitant, so evasive.

“Speak!” I nearly shouted, unable to contain my impatience. Anyone in my position would feel the same. I had always been straightforward, never one for beating around the bush.

Murong Xue was startled by my outburst, clearly unprepared for such rudeness. Once revered as a celestial deity, she had never been treated in this manner. Tears welled up in her eyes as she gazed at me, like a child nursing a great injustice. Realizing I had overreacted, I hastily softened my tone and said, “Miss Murong, forgive my discourtesy. There has been a cataclysmic change in the world outside, and I must leave this place. At the same time, I cannot risk anything happening to you, so I must take you with me.”

She nodded. “One of my souls is imprisoned in a river. Only by retrieving it can I leave the Misty Forest.” Taking a deep breath, she continued, “The other lies at the world’s edge, a place you cannot reach with your current strength. But the one in the river is within our grasp, though it is guarded by a divine beast.”

“Where is it?” I was eager to depart, to head for Phoenix Blue City and establish a power of my own. The world outside was even more perilous than before, with ever-stronger beings from the higher realms. If I did not grow stronger, I would not be able to protect those around me.

Murong Xue walked to the window and lowered her head. “At the Frozen Gorge—the place where I last sent you to find the Ice Soul. There is a river there.”

“The Frozen Gorge?” I interrupted her. The image of the gorge and the river flashed through my mind. Suddenly I remembered the task the octopus spirit had given me, which I’d failed to complete because Old Third had lured me away with his deceitful tricks. But for that, I would never have broken my promise.

“Yes, my soul is in that river. Only by retrieving my spiritual essence from there can I escape the Misty Forest. But there is a divine beast guarding it. It will not be easy.”

“A divine beast?” I recalled passing that river with Yu Jing—there was no sign of any divine beast, only the octopus spirit and the water sprite it had mentioned. Could these be the guardians Murong Xue referred to?

“It’s the octopus spirit,” she confirmed.

It really was that creature! That made things easier. If I helped the octopus spirit rid itself of the water sprite, I was sure it would help me recover Murong Xue’s soul.

“I know that octopus spirit.”

“What? You’ve met it? How is that possible? And it let you go?” Murong Xue seemed incredulous.

I recounted in detail all that had happened that day. Only then did realization dawn on her, and she sighed in wonder.

“To think you forged such a bond with the octopus spirit—what a stroke of fortune!” she exclaimed.

“What do you mean by that?”

“The octopus spirit is notoriously violent. No mortal who has ever seen its true form has lived to tell the tale. You are the first.”

So, it was a cold-blooded creature after all, though I had found it amiable enough. Now that I knew how to retrieve her soul, there was no reason to delay. The sooner I left, the better, to avoid any further mishaps. After bidding Murong Xue farewell, I set off alone toward the Frozen Gorge. Qin Tian had wanted to accompany me, but I refused. There was reason behind this—Yu Jing and the others were still unconscious, and Murong Xue was injured. I needed Qin Tian to watch over them. As for the Nine-tailed Fox, I did not wish to drag her into this. I was a man; I could not indulge in comfort or affection. Some things I would have to face alone.

I soared through the air, reaching the Frozen Gorge in moments. Snow whirled all around, and the river flowed quietly beneath the icy sky. Standing on the bank, I called out twice for the old man, but there was no reply.

Without hesitation, I plunged into the water. The temperature was frigid; as soon as I entered, my legs cramped painfully. Quickly, I circulated my inner energy through all my meridians, and the cold gradually subsided.

The water was clear, and from beneath the surface I could see the distant mountains. But there was no time for scenery. I oriented my body with my head down and feet up, swimming toward the bottom. The river was deep, so deep I could not see the end. Below was a vague, inky darkness that sent a chill through me.

After nearly ten minutes of descent, I still had not reached the bottom. At such depths, had my body not been tempered, the water pressure would have crushed me to pieces.

Strange—I could hold my breath for so long! Ten minutes had passed and I felt no lack of air. Could it be related to my heart? I pressed my chest and felt nothing—no heartbeat. In my last battle, the corpse king had ripped my heart from my body. I thought I would die, but miraculously, I recovered! Even gained a second self. Though I still couldn’t explain it, I knew this: as long as I was alive, that was enough.

To live heartless—what a joke! What had become of my body? Who could explain it to me? Helpless, I gazed into the vastness below. This wasn’t a true ocean, but its depth astonished me! Another ten minutes passed, and still no sign of the bottom. I floated in place, channeling my energy to my eyes. Two piercing golden beams shot from my gaze into the depths, illuminating the water for about five hundred meters before fading.

Still that deep! What kind of river was this? Such depths were rare beyond compare.

Just as I was about to dive further, a massive creature surged upward from below. Instinctively, I flattened myself against the water, drew the Frost Sword from my spatial ring, and held it in both hands, ready to strike a devastating blow. The sword’s movements were hampered by the water, not as sharp as on land, but I still swung it swiftly at the creature.

“Stay your hand.” An ancient voice echoed in the water, rough and muffled. I halted my strike in midair.

“Young friend, do you not recognize me?”

The octopus spirit—it was him! I’d almost attacked him by mistake. Quickly, I sheathed the Frost Sword and clasped my fists in apology. “Forgive my rudeness, elder.”

Then I paused, realizing I could speak underwater...

The octopus spirit shifted form, transforming into an old man. “Think nothing of it, think nothing of it,” he replied.

“That sword you wield—is it the Frost Sword?” he asked, staring intently at my blade.

“Yes, elder. How did you know?”

“Three feet of frost, commanding the heroes,” he intoned, stroking his beard.

I looked at him in puzzlement, hoping for an explanation, but instead, he asked why I had failed to keep my promise.

I could only tell the truth. After listening, the octopus spirit sighed at the twists of fate. “Yours is a life of many trials. Your destiny is different from others. Do you know the origin of the Frost Sword you carry?”

That was exactly what I wished to know. Bowing, I said, “Elder, I beg you to enlighten me.”

He gazed at the water’s surface. “Let us speak above,” he said, and shot from the water like a cannonball. I followed, leaping out to stand beside him on the riverbank. There, the octopus spirit recounted the history of the Frost Sword.

A thousand years ago, a swordsmith named Ling Yan discovered a fragment of the cosmos after an explosion in the universe. Upon examination, he found the stone to be incredibly hard, and decided to forge it into a weapon. The stone measured three feet long and one foot wide—perfect for a sword, or even two. Ling Yan’s passion for swords was beyond ordinary comprehension.

But when he tried to smelt the stone, it proved impossible to refine. Still, he refused to give up, working at it day and night until he had burned all the wood on the mountain, yet the stone remained unchanged. At last, he discovered a mineral that could burn with a red-hot flame, far hotter than any ordinary fire. After three months of toil, his perseverance was rewarded—a sword of crystalline transparency, sharp enough to cut through iron as though it were mud.

It was the finest blade Ling Yan had ever forged. He admired it for three days and nights without rest. But only a few days later, the Frost Sword vanished, and Ling Yan and the remaining divine stone disappeared without a trace.