The moment Cloud Retainer's report fell into the air,
Morax, Guizhong, and Azhdaha lifted their heads at the same time.
The dragon god's golden eyes narrowed.
Had his recent restraint caused newborn gods to mistake him for merciful?
Guizhong's smile curved gently, but there was no warmth behind it—
only chill.
So…
they thought her silence meant she was easy to bully?
Azhdaha crossed his arms, jaw clenched.
Their little brother was already suffering,
and now someone dared to invade his home?
At the edge of the hall, Cloud Retainer trembled.
He stole a glance at the serene senior adeptus beside him—
the brown-bodied, green-headed deer, Moon Carver.
Unfazed.
Calm.
Still as a mountain.
Cloud Retainer suddenly felt very small.
So this is what being Rex Lapis's first disciple means…
Moon Carver, internally:
My legs stopped responding ten breaths ago. My mouth won't move. I am going to die.
Morax was the first to rein himself in, blocking the surge of divine pressure that Guizhong and Azhdaha unconsciously released.
Enough.
They could crush mortals by accident like this.
He looked at Cloud Retainer.
"Gather everyone who is free.
You will follow me."
The authority in his voice allowed no refusal.
Cloud Retainer bolted from the hall at once.
Soon, every available adeptus assembled behind the Geo Archon.
They were confused.
Normally—
If Morax was going to fight, he fought alone.
If he summoned them, it usually meant formality—
a show of force to intimidate someone, not a real battle.
But today?
Morax walked ahead without a word, pace quick, expression sharp.
This was not intimidation.
This was war.
The Ice World
As they neared the twisted aura ahead, Morax and the two gods halted.
The air was saturated with a god's "Law."
But there was no battle.
Which meant—
The fight was already over.
Morax's brows lowered.
A battle between gods almost never ended quickly.
For a fight to end this fast meant only one thing:
An overwhelming victory.
But who could be overwhelmingly victorious?
Snow Kui was strong.
He had touched the concept of "Law."
But a child of the yaksha clan crushing a full god…
That stretched even a god's imagination.
The adepti parted the last stretch of brush—
—and froze.
A wasteland of ice.
Sharp, crystalline, merciless.
The ice was beautiful, yes—
but beneath every layer
were bodies.
Monsters frozen mid-scream, preserved in poses of flight, terror, or despair.
The cold seeped through elemental shields.
Adepti, beings of divine power, felt cold.
Not on their skin—
in their hearts.
The farther they walked,
the deeper the dread.
At the center of this frozen hell stood a small back—
small, but not fragile.
A white-haired child.
Tattered clothes.
Bare shoulders dusted with frost.
In his right hand—
a head.
The head of a goddess.
Snake-haired.
Eyes wide.
Fear forever sealed under frost.
The adepti stopped breathing.
Snow Kui slowly turned his head.
Just enough to reveal half his face
and one eye.
That eye—
a muted gray-blue, calm as death—
swept across the crowd.
A killing intent, pure and unfiltered, struck every heart.
Those whose will was weaker
took a step back.
In unspoken synchronization, every adeptus thought:
A god of slaughter stands before us.
Those who knew Snow Kui—
Ping'er, the four yaksha, even the mischievous crane and deer—
stared in disbelief.
Is this still that loud, bright, troublesome child?
Azhdaha exhaled heavily.
Guizhong rubbed her forehead.
Morax lowered his gaze.
They knew.
They saw.
Snow Kui wasn't carrying "a trophy."
He was sealing a god's malice.
Crude—
but effective.
Three days, he stayed like that.
Guarding the boundary.
Sitting on the same stone.
Drawing the same line in the dirt.
Cross this line, and die.
On the third day, when no more enemies came—
Snow Kui stood.
The ice cracked.
The frozen world shattered into glittering white dust.
Bodies dissolved into nothing.
Only one thing remained:
the legend.
A yaksha killed a god.
In an era where mortals and gods still walked the same land—
rumors do not die quietly.
And thus, in whispers passed from mouth to ear—
People learned the name of the ice-born Yaksha.
The god-slayer.
The world remembered:
When Snow Kui draws a line—
cross it, and die.
Advance Chapters available on P@treon
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