The scarred man clenched his jaw. His iron bull stomped angrily, but even the metal on its body had begun to crack from the extreme cold.
"Retreat!" he finally shouted to his subordinates. "We'll come back!"
The hunters pulled back, some stumbling as their feet were still half-frozen. They vanished into the darkness of the forest, leaving Jingyun and the snow fox in a chilling silence.
After making sure the hunters were gone, Jingyun dropped to his knees, his body trembling from exhaustion. Controlling natural ice drained far more energy than creating ice using the Ice Temple.
He had thought that due to his special birth, he could control ice at will. But what in this world comes instantly? He had to learn how to master it. A once-honored cultivator would never give up over something like this.
The snow fox came closer, touching Jingyun's cheek with its snout. Concern shone in its blue eyes.
"I'm alright," Jingyun gave a weak smile. "But we have to move quickly. They'll return with reinforcements."
"You're making my life difficult," he added teasingly, though a small smile lingered on his face.
The snow fox snorted. It bowed its head, gesturing for Jingyun to climb onto its back. Its small body began to grow larger.
"Are you sure? With your injury…"
But the fox was insistent. Jingyun finally relented, carefully climbing onto his friend's back. Once he was securely seated, the snow fox began to run. Its speed was astonishing—it glided across the ice like a white shadow, leaving barely a trace.
They headed south, toward human territory. Jingyun could feel the change in the air—the farther from the Extreme North, the less intense the cold. But for some reason, he sensed something even more dangerous waiting ahead.
The Ice Temple within him pulsed, as if agreeing with Jingyun's intuition. And deep within that sacred structure, something—or someone—was watching in silence.
Jingyun and the snow fox continued southward, leaving behind faint tracks in the thinning snow. The air was still cold, but no longer like the biting chill of the Extreme North. In the distance, mountain silhouettes emerged through the mist—a sign they were nearing the border of human territory.
"We need to find a place to rest," Jingyun murmured, noticing the snow fox's breathing growing heavier. "Your wound needs more time to fully heal."
The snow fox gave a low snort, as if disagreeing, but Jingyun could feel its body trembling with fatigue. They had run far enough to escape the hunters, and while the Ice Heart Grass had accelerated the healing, such wounds couldn't fully heal overnight.
Jingyun's sharp eyes caught a gap along the mountainside—a barely visible path, hidden by snow and ice. There was something strange about the path, as if the air around it shimmered with ancient energy.
"There," he pointed, and the snow fox adjusted its direction without hesitation.
They followed the winding trail down the mountainside. The farther they went, the more Jingyun sensed a familiar energy—soul energy, but unlike anything he had felt before. Older, deeper, as though rooted into the land itself.
The mist began to thin, and the sight before them took Jingyun's breath away.
A small village lay hidden in the valley, its simple houses made of wood and stone, their roofs blanketed in snow.
But what surprised him even more were the ice statues scattered throughout the village—sculptures of spirit beasts in various poses, so detailed they seemed almost alive.
"What is this?" Jingyun whispered, more to himself.
The snow fox stopped at the edge of the village, gently lowering Jingyun from its back. Its body began to shrink again. There was hesitation in its movements, as if this place stirred memories it wasn't sure were real.
They had just stepped into the village when a voice startled them.
"Welcome to Eternal Ice Village, young traveler."
An elderly woman stood in the doorway of one of the houses. Her long white hair flowed down her back, and her pale blue eyes reminded Jingyun of the ice in the Extreme North. She even resembled him. But there was a warmth in her gaze that eased the tension in Jingyun's body.
"I'm Grandmother Ming," the woman continued with a gentle smile. "And it seems the two of you are in need of a place to rest."
Jingyun nodded politely, though he remained alert. "Thank you for the offer. But… how did you know we're travelers?"
Grandmother Ming chuckled softly. "In this village, we know all our people. And it's been a very long time since a young one came here with a Frozen Fox." Her eyes fell meaningfully on the snow fox. "Especially one that chooses to protect, not attack."
The snow fox shifted a little closer to Jingyun, but showed no hostility. There was recognition in its eyes as it looked at Grandmother Ming, as if it knew something Jingyun didn't.
"Come in," Grandmother Ming opened her door wider. "There's a story you need to hear. About this place, and about another way to grow strong—without taking precious lives."
Jingyun's eyes widened. How did this old woman know about the dilemma that haunted him? But before he could ask, Grandmother Ming had already turned inside, leaving the door open—an unspoken invitation.
Jingyun looked at the snow fox, who gave a small nod. They stepped inside together, entering a room warmed by a small hearth in the corner. The walls were adorned with intricate ice carvings, depicting various soul beasts living in harmony with humans.
"Sit down," Grandmother Ming gestured to soft cushions near the fire. She poured tea from a ceramic pot into three small cups. "Eternal Snow Tea, made from flowers that only grow on the highest mountaintops. Good for healing wounds."
Jingyun sat cross-legged, and the snow fox curled up beside him. He took a cup of tea, feeling the warmth spread from his hands to his whole body. Its scent reminded him of the pure ice of the Extreme North, but there was something more—a warmth he didn't expect.
"This village," Grandmother Ming began, her voice soft but full of authority, "was founded by a Soul Master who rejected tradition. He believed true strength didn't come from taking life, but from understanding and cooperating with spirit beasts."
Jingyun took a slow sip of tea, feeling a familiar energy flow through the warm liquid. "Did he… did he succeed?"
Grandmother Ming smiled, her eyes gleaming in the firelight. "Yes and no. He discovered a way to obtain soul rings without killing spirit beasts, but his method required something very rare—the pure willingness of the spirit beast itself."
"Willingness?" Jingyun frowned. He glanced at the snow fox, who seemed very intrigued by the conversation.
"Yes. The spirit beast must willingly offer part of its essence—not its life, but the pure energy that forms its core existence. The process is painless and nonlethal, but it requires absolute trust from both sides."
"But wouldn't that mean the resulting soul ring is weaker?" Jingyun asked, recalling what he knew about the Soul Master system. "Since there's no life sacrifice?"
Grandmother Ming shook her head. "Strength doesn't always come from sacrifice, young one. Sometimes, the greatest power is born from harmony and understanding. A soul ring formed from willingness may be different, but not weaker. It has the potential to grow alongside both the user and the beast who granted it."
The snow fox lifted its head, meeting Jingyun's gaze. There was something in that look—an understanding, an offer.
"Is…" Jingyun swallowed, "is this method still possible?"
"Of course," Grandmother Ming refilled their cups. "But not all Soul Masters can do it. It takes a pure heart and strong resolve to reject the easier path. And most importantly, it takes a spirit beast that fully trusts the Soul Master."
As if responding to her words, the mark on the snow fox's forehead—the symbol of the Frozen Fox—began to glow softly. Its blue light merged with the glow of the Ice Temple that always followed Jingyun, creating a beautiful harmony.
"Ah," Grandmother Ming smiled at the sight. "It seems you've found your answer already."
But before the conversation could continue, a scream shattered the quiet of the village. Jingyun jumped to his feet, his instincts sharpened. The snow fox was already in a defensive stance, its fur bristling.
"They're here!" a voice shouted from outside. "That Soul Master with the Frozen Fox is in the village!"