The surrounding heat inside the Grand Coliseum didn’t merely drop. It plummeted into an ice-cold deep pit.
Gliding onto the combat pitch was Fairy Han, the peerless young genius of the Glacial Frost Palace. Draped in fluttering gowns of frozen moon-silk that drifted like falling snowflakes. Her skin was as were pale as carved ice, her waist slender as an autumn reed. Fastened through her black hair were twelve ice-slow jade pins that hummed with ancient, soul-chilling frost.
In her right hand, Fairy Han held an icicle dress sword forged from thousand-year deep-sea frozen ground, streaming a killing intent that caused the surrounding air to crystallize into falling shards of blue rime.
Fairy Han stopped fifty paces away, her cold, crystal-clear eyes fixing upon Princess Jiang Ling’er.
“Jiang Ling’er,” Fairy Han spoke, her voice like grinding icebergs echoing across the frozen waste. “A royal princess of the Great Da-Qi realm, and yet you traded your golden crown and jade ribbons for an oil-stained leather apron and soot-stained welding goggles. You consort with ditch-diggers and smell of grease. Today, the Glacial Frost Palace will cleanse this disgrace from the royal records!”
Fairy Han lifted her frozen ground dress sword and pointed its needle-thin tip directly at Ling’er’s chest.
