Inside the courtyard, the blizzard howled with ear-splitting, high-pressure fury.
Vortexes of blue frost swirled at end-post speed, peeling layers of slate and mortar from the inner citadel walls.
Yet inside that howling ring of ice, Lu Chen walked forward.
Each step was measured.
His iron-rimmed boots sank into the frozen ground, and everywhere his soles pressed, three-inch-thick black ice flash-melted into bubbling, boiling slurry.
A walking blast fire in a field of eternal winter.
The heat streaming from his bare chest pushed the wall of ice needles back by six paces. That created a shimmering bubble of white-hot air that hissed continuously against the gale.
“Don’t let him close the distance!” Elder Han Ming screamed, his voice breaking into a wild screech. “Xue Gu, flank his blind side! Xuan Sha, freeze his heart!”
