Chapter 112: Frost Giant

A tremendous roar echoed through the void as Kunpeng unleashed his spiritual treasure, the Demon Master Palace. This treasure bore a striking resemblance to the later Heaven-Smashing Seal in both design and function. Under Kunpeng’s swift incantations, the palace rapidly expanded, and in the blink of an eye, it shrouded the sky, stretching thousands of miles. The palace’s floor, a vast expanse of twelve thousand nine hundred and sixty jade-green talismans, shimmered with ceaseless energy. The immense and turbulent force pressed down upon Qiangliang with overwhelming might.

The Demon Master Palace combined offense and defense in one, possessing boundless mystique and tremendous power. Its strikes were unfailingly precise, never missing their mark. Moreover, its size could be controlled at will, unafraid of either single-target or group assaults.

Having locked onto Qiangliang’s aura with secret techniques, Kunpeng wasted no time. The hovering Demon Master Palace surged forward with an aura capable of shattering all obstacles, aiming straight for the crown of Qiangliang’s head. Judging by the momentum, if it connected, it would pulverize his skull like a rotten watermelon.

Faced with the twin threats of the Taiyi Chaos Bell’s sonic waves from below and Kunpeng’s Demon Master Palace from above, Qiangliang was caught in a deadly pincer. Yet, he showed no fear. Instead, he howled defiantly to the heavens and charged forward, his wolf-tooth staff cleaving fiercely at the chaotic vibrations of the Taiyi Bell.

Bang!

The gray-hued chaotic sound waves scattered and dissipated under the strike, but the impact shook Qiangliang’s entire body. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, clear evidence of internal injury. Before he could even channel his shamanic power to heal, Kunpeng’s Demon Master Palace was already upon him, leaving no room to evade.

Qiangliang understood well that once the Demon Master Palace and the Chaos Bell locked onto a target’s aura, their attacks could pursue it to the ends of the earth, forcing a response without escape. Thus, he chose not to dodge but to confront the assault head-on.

Suppressing his wounds, he braced his staff against the Demon Master Palace’s descent, preventing it from landing, though enduring a colossal force exceeding hundreds of billions of tons only worsened his injuries.

“Taiyi, this ragged bird, and Kunpeng, this fish-bird, both possess profound cultivation and hold supreme treasures. Facing two alone, I can only hope to survive. A prolonged battle will surely cost me my reputation,” Qiangliang admitted the dire situation but vowed to fight to the end. Fleeing now would not only invite ridicule from other primordial beings but also tarnish his supreme status among the ancestral shamans.

The searing pain radiating from his shoulders only fueled Qiangliang’s ferocity. His grip tightened on the staff, his strikes growing heavier and more relentless.

Thud, thud, thud...

Under Taiyi’s command, the Chaos Bell had grown over a hundredfold in size, its grayish chaotic aura enveloping it like a thick shroud. No matter how fierce Qiangliang’s staff struck, it could not penetrate the chaotic air surrounding the bell. Instead, the terrifying shockwaves coursing through his body stirred his blood to a boil.

With each thunderous toll of the bell, Qiangliang’s injuries deepened. Coupled with Kunpeng’s desperate use of the Demon Master Palace, the odds stacked heavily against him.

“Hmph. It’s because ancestral shamans lack primordial souls that the chaotic reverberation’s effect is limited. Otherwise, its impact would be magnified tenfold. Yet with the primordial chaos energy inherited from the ancients, I stand undefeated. This drawn-out fight guarantees my victory! The famed ancestral shamans are overrated. Not even two or three working together could best me!” Taiyi’s confidence surged after witnessing the battle. Although his cultivation was not vastly superior to that of the ancestral shamans, and close in power to any one of them, his body was no match. But fortune favored him, for he wielded the Chaos Bell—one of the Three Treasures derived from the Pangu Axe—granting him the courage to rival three or four ancestral shamans at once.

//

Standing alongside the Taiqing Sage’s Celestial Yellow Tower as one of the two great tortoise shells of the primordial world, the Chaos Bell’s defensive capabilities were nothing short of extraordinary. Taiyi relied on it to withstand the combined forces of multiple equals, an almost god-defying feat.

Already outmatched and restrained by Kunpeng’s grip, Qiangliang’s situation grew increasingly perilous. His defeat seemed only a matter of time.

In stark contrast, Gonggong displayed formidable prowess. His pair of jade hooks moved with unparalleled mastery, striking like a sudden storm. Emperor Jun’s River Diagram and Luo Book were adept at calculating heavenly secrets and arranging formations, but their offensive and defensive capabilities paled in comparison to Gonggong’s. Moreover, in the Northern Abyss, where water and fire clashed, Gonggong naturally held the advantage.

While pursuing Emperor Jun, Gonggong noted Qiangliang’s grim predicament. His mind cleared with understanding: prolonging the fight would only spell disaster for them. Should Qiangliang lose his fighting spirit, with Taiyi and Kunpeng aiding Emperor Jun, they would be doomed.

“This can’t continue. Emperor Jun is at a disadvantage, but I’m only showing strength on the surface. In truth, I’m locked in a stalemate with him. Qiangliang cannot hold out much longer. It’s better to withdraw first. An ancestral shaman never suffers a loss without recourse. We’ll regroup and call upon the other siblings—the combined power of the twelve ancestral shamans will turn the tide,” Gonggong deliberated before decisively shouting, “You shameless Taiyi and Kunpeng, relying on numbers—today I’m done with you. But know this: you shall repay this grudge tenfold. Qiangliang, retreat!”

With a wave of his hand, Gonggong led the great shamans and shaman soldiers away. Left alone, Qiangliang, unable to withstand the pressure, ceased fighting. Brandishing his wolf-tooth staff, he withdrew from the battle, retracting the mighty divine technique of “Law Heaven Supporting Earth,” and pursued Gonggong’s retreating figure. Before leaving, he cast a fierce warning over his shoulder: “Green mountains remain, flowing waters endure. Taiyi, Kunpeng, today’s matter is far from over.”

“The ancestral shamans are nothing special,” Taiyi sneered dismissively, paying no heed to their threats. This battle had filled him with unshakable confidence.

Kunpeng’s eyes flickered subtly. Though he outwardly remained composed, a cunning smile played in his heart.

Emperor Jun cast a meaningful glance at Kunpeng, his brows furrowed in silence, his expression grave, lost in thought.

At this moment, other quasi-Saint beings stepped forward to flatter the trio of the Demon Court.

After a round of insincere pleasantries, the more than twenty quasi-Saints exchanged glances, each harboring their own schemes, scheming to let others act as distractions while they seized the opportunity.

“Everyone desires the God-Slaying Spear, but first we must ascertain if it truly exists. If it’s false, we’ll become a laughingstock for eternity.”

“Indeed, as comrade XX said, our priority is to confirm the spear’s existence before making moves.”

“That means we must open a tunnel down to the Heart of Ice Soul.”

...

Above the Northern Abyss, the profound ice stretched endlessly. The deeper one ventured, the denser and older the ice became. Even the water-elemental escape methods could not penetrate far. Reaching the Heart of Ice Soul was impossible. Even the strongest magnetic fields failed to reveal it. The only option was brute force—blasting a path downwards. All quasi-Saints understood this but none wished to act first. No one wanted to risk wasted effort for no reward. Clearing a path would likely mean losing the spear to others and possibly endangering one’s life. Thus, no one dared make the first move.

“This cannot go on. Under fair terms, there is but one solution,” Emperor Jun smiled.

“What solution?”

“We act together—everyone participates, no one left out.” Emperor Jun’s proposal was the best available. Though some had voiced it before, all now reluctantly agreed.

Just as the more than twenty quasi-Saints prepared to jointly carve a passage to the Heart of Ice Soul, a sudden storm erupted. Snow whipped fiercely, chilling winds surged, and the ground trembled violently, cracking open countless fissures of varying sizes. Thousands upon thousands of ice shards were hurled into the air, swirling wildly, forming over four hundred ice hurricane tornadoes. The shards mingled with freezing snow and biting cold, creating an utterly hostile environment. Many nearby beings screamed as they were sucked into the vortex, instantly frozen, crushed, and absorbed, their souls trapped with no escape. The most terrifying part: not even Taiyi True Immortals could resist. Without the cultivation of a Great Dao Golden Immortal, survival was impossible.

“What is happening?” Even the assembled quasi-Saints were baffled.

As the Sovereign of the Northern Abyss, Kunpeng had never witnessed such a scene since his birth.

Could these ice-and-wind tornadoes truly obliterate Taiyi True Immortals in an instant?

It defied logic and science.

Yet the evidence lay before their eyes, undeniable.

“Man-made?”

There was no other explanation. Natural whirlwinds couldn’t annihilate Taiyi True Immortals. Only a master who comprehended the mysteries of the Dao could infuse the tornadoes with Dao resonance, unleashing such terrifying power.

The Xuan Immortals and Taiyi True Immortals who had gathered to watch the spectacle were caught in an undeserved catastrophe. Their long years of arduous cultivation were shattered in an instant.

As the storm subsided, the death toll was staggering: over hundreds of thousands of Xuan Immortals perished, and at least a thousand Taiyi True Immortals fell. Such massive losses were enough to slightly reshape the primordial world’s balance.

Finally, the storm completely cleared, the hurricanes dissipated, and the tornadoes vanished, leaving only towering giants standing.

These giants, clad in icy blue, coated with frost and snow, boasted burly, sinewy physiques and stern, chiseled faces, as if carved by blade and axe. Uniform in stature and spirit, each stood three thousand zhang tall, casting a shadow that darkened the heavens and earth.

“What are these… the legendary Frost Giants of the Ancient Era?” The quasi-Saints, many of whom hailed from the ancient times themselves, recognized these terrifying names from memory and could not help but exclaim in shock.