Chapter Thirty-Two: The City of Snow

In this virtual glacial world, once every millennium there comes a “Day of Purification.” On this day, countless mutated beasts surge forth from unknown origins, fearless of death, intent only on destruction and slaughter. They begin at the world’s edge, invading ever inward toward the center, assimilating and annihilating all living things in their path.

Their ultimate destination is the heart of this world: the City of Snow.

At the final hour, one or two Overlord Beasts will appear. These are virtually invincible—some can swallow ice and breathe fire, others soar the skies, and there are those that devour everything nearby like a living black hole. Once their “purification” is complete, all things are returned to nothingness, awaiting the dawn of the next era.

Ye Bai had thought that, being in the middle of the world, he would avoid these mutated beasts entirely. But he was naive. Before he had covered even half the remaining distance, he was overtaken by a frenzied horde. Perhaps it was fate, or perhaps he had slain too many squirrels in a past life, but he found himself face to face with a wave of mutated squirrels.

At first, there were no red dots on his map. He looked up, then lowered his gaze, only to see the ground crawling with the creatures. Both sides instantly tensed, Ye Bai especially keeping his eyes on the mutant squirrels as he slowly retreated, back toward the City of Snow.

Before him, a dozen or so squirrels advanced. Some had their throat tubes exposed, others had half a tail, and a few had jaws torn wide open. Yet they pressed closer, eyes full of violence, as if everything in their way deserved to be crushed.

Ye Bai stepped back, but suddenly, the ice beneath his foot snapped. The sharp sound was like a signal to attack.

The circling squirrels all leapt at once. One stretched out a claw for Ye Bai’s eyes, another sank its torn mouth into his leg, while several more scrabbled at his waist, biting and clawing, seeking any weakness.

Where once their eyes had sparkled with life, now there was only numb destruction.

Yet, mutated or not, a squirrel is still a squirrel. Whatever had twisted their nature and made them stronger, they remained far from true foes. Though several gnawed at him, it had little effect. Ye Bai gathered water energy within and cloaked himself in its power. Soon, all the crazed squirrels were frozen solid.

A few struggled to break free, but Ye Bai’s power shifted instantly to a crimson force. He clenched his fist.

With a series of crisp cracks, the frozen squirrels shattered to icy fragments on the ground.

The points counter on his wrist flashed a few times. Ye Bai turned and dashed toward the City of Snow.

Within the City of Snow—

“Elder, the blood-striped ants in the underground caverns have begun to stir. Since dawn, the skies have grown dim. This matches all the recorded traits of the ‘Day of Purification’ from past eras.”

At the highest point in the grand hall, an old man with eyebrows and beard of equal length sat in silent meditation upon a white dragon throne. At the voice, his eyes fluttered open, then shut again, repeating the motion several times before he managed to keep them open, revealing cloudy pupils.

A frail cough echoed through the vast hall, making it seem as if the old man was on the verge of death.

From beneath his brows or beard, a hand emerged—so thin as to be skeletal, yet as smooth and pale as a young maiden’s, it rested lightly upon the dragon head of the throne.

In an instant, the entire hall filled with a burst of white light. Those kneeling below could see nothing, yet the radiance was not blinding; instead, it felt like a spring breeze, soothing away all negative thoughts.

The man kneeling on the floor watched as the white beard shortened, shrinking until it was drawn into the glowing sphere before him.

Inside the sphere, the elder’s emaciated frame grew robust and powerful. His eyebrows and beard fell away, swirling around him and transforming into a white battle robe that circled the edge of the light.

His once-clouded eyes grew sharp and resolute, dark and vivid, brimming with the spirit of battle. The light sphere around him shrank, and the white robe settled onto his body.

With a cracking sound, the dragon head at the side of the throne shattered, and the last trace of white light in the air was absorbed into the elder’s body.

“Youth is a wonderful thing,” he murmured.

Now standing tall in white armor, his eyes full of fighting intent, the sound of blood rushing through his veins, the once-old man looked at his rejuvenated body with mingled regret and hope.

“A thousand years ago, I alone survived. A thousand years later, I will not allow tragedy to repeat.”

He strode forward and extended his hand, power surging within his grasp.

Deep underground, a white-handled dragon-headed sword, unsheathed, began to tremble. The rust on its blade fell away, revealing a gleaming, razor edge.

The divine sword, sensing its master’s call, shot up from the earth, trailing white light through the air.

Vibrating in his grip, the sword seemed to recount a millennium of stories, yearning to return to the battlefield.

“Pass down the order: the city is to be on full alert.”

“Yes, my king,” the kneeling man replied, rising and withdrawing.

The king descended the jade steps at a leisurely pace, the broken dragon head behind him lying in pieces.

The Spirit Crystal and the Blood-Striped Ants—these are the two legendary treasures of this world. No one knows their origins, but with each new era, they appear at the king’s side.

In his youth, the king carried the Spirit Crystal everywhere, and the Blood-Striped Ants followed him into battle. They grew alongside him. When the king grew old, the Spirit Crystal became his throne in the City of Snow. When the king finally sat upon it, he would not rise again until the final battle.

The Blood-Striped Ants, with the king’s decline, burrowed beneath the city in search of something only they knew, surfacing only on the Day of Purification to warn humanity of the coming disaster.

On this day, the Spirit Crystal shattered, the Blood-Striped Ants emerged, and the king was young once more. The blood-tinged aura of the ants faded with the breaking of the crystal, leaving them transparent.

On the same day, the king was reborn, the two treasures vanished, mutant beasts rioted, and a tide of monsters surged toward the City of Snow from all sides. The very sky above the city was laced with a killing intent; the day grew ever darker.

Ye Bai watched the map on his points counter as he pressed toward the city. The sky dimmed further, and where once the sun shone brightly, now only a yellowish halo remained.

At last, at the edge of the snowfield, Ye Bai glimpsed the silhouette of the City of Snow. In this hopeless world, its faint, uncertain outline offered a glimmer of salvation.

From afar, its spires rose high, white pointed arches evoking the Gothic style of old Europe. As he drew closer, the city’s features became clear.

On the three visible sides, each pinnacle was crowned with a white stone beast. Below, towering stone gates were carved with murals, seemingly chronicling a thousand years of history. At the center, ramparts reminiscent of the Great Wall featured defensive grooves and battlements.

The city was not vast, but its white jade walls stood resplendent amidst the frozen wasteland, radiating majesty.

“Captain, someone’s approaching.”

“Ready the Skywatch Ballista—see if the newcomer is normal. Over the next few days, people will appear near the city. Observe each one; if there’s nothing amiss, let them in. With war upon us, every soul is a precious force.”

With a thunderous boom, the Skywatch Ballista fired, momentarily dispelling the gloom above and bringing a flash of daylight to the sky.

Ye Bai had just reached the outskirts of the city when the heavens blazed with light. He saw people atop the walls waving to him and hurried forward, leaping up to the city gates in a few quick bounds.

The heavy gates groaned open, and a figure emerged.

He bowed deeply, a full seventy-five degrees, then straightened, a gentle smile on his lips.

“Honored warrior, Liu Xin, Captain of the Third Squadron, East Gate of the City of Snow, welcomes you.”

Faced with the handsome warrior in white robe and armor, Ye Bai was momentarily lost for words and unsure how to respond.

Liu Xin’s smile widened. “There’s no need for confusion, brave one. Follow me, and all will be explained.”

Ye Bai glanced at the device on his arm—he had reached his destination. He could only follow Liu Xin inside to see what awaited him.

Passing through the gates, Ye Bai saw that the walls and ceiling were covered with intricate paintings. On closer inspection, he realized his prior guess was wrong.

These murals did not depict mere history, but the bloody battles fought against the mutant beasts each time the Day of Purification came. In every scene, many warriors dressed much like himself fought desperately against the monsters.

Some lay in pools of blood, heads torn off by beasts. Others, bodies half gone, still struggled on. The white snow at their feet was melted into rivers by the heat of their spilled lifeblood, staining the land red.

Ye Bai turned to look at Liu Xin, whose expression had become solemn—a look of mourning for the fallen and respect for the courageous.