The world was silent.
Bai Ying, who had her eyes tightly closed waiting for death to come, waited for a long time and still didn't hear the sound of golden light bursting forth.
She slowly opened her eyes, her expression bewildered.
"Young Master Xie of the Mountain..."
The voice of relief from the Snow Master echoed between heaven and earth.
Bai Ying looked in the direction of the voice.
There she saw a figure clad in black like ink, fluttering in the wind and snow, with thousands of strands of pitch-black Sword Qi flashing in the heavy snow.
It was a slender yet reassuring young figure.
With just one hand, he had stopped the Saint Prince's golden rod, preventing it from advancing even a fraction!
"Yo ho..."
"Xie Xuanyi?"
From the direction of the golden rod came a chuckle.
The Saint Prince, sipping wine, looked at the black figure at the end of the snowstorm and let out an enjoyable and leisurely sigh, as if the person in front of him was an old friend.
