The four leftover Netherfrost tridents thrust forward in a desperate, intersecting cage of black ice.
Lu Chen didn’t slow his advance.
He took three explosive steps across the dragon-bone flat stone slabs. His boots leaving glowed cherry-red imprints in the frost.
His balance point dropped six inches, sliding beneath the level sweep of the upper two tridents.
The freezing gale parted around his head, the minus-one-hundred-and-fifty-degree wind whispering against his temples.
With his left hand, Lu Chen swung the forty-two-pound Heaven-Shattering Celestial Cleaver in a rising slanted block.
The eight-hundred-degree Star-Steel spine met the twin shafts of the dropping weapons.
SHING!
