As time passed, the icy chill continued to spread and wreak havoc within the Ghost-faced Elder, as if a thick layer of ice gradually froze his blood, slowing its flow until it nearly stopped. His movements became sluggish and stiff, the rotation of his cane slowed, and the glow of the black shield grew dimmer, like a candle about to go out.
A pained expression grew more prominent on the Ghost-faced Elder's face, his lips trembled as he tried to speak, but the cold had completely frozen his throat, forcing him to utter only weak whimpers.
At this moment, Shi Feiyang keenly sensed the timing was right. He gathered his strength in his feet, leapt high into the air, spun rapidly, and with his Myanmar Saber raised, gathered all his strength, and swung down upon the Ghost-faced Elder with a world-shattering momentum.
