Chapter 348 Extinguishing the Nation
Mo Tianfeng utilized the power of the entire nation, but ultimately failed to find Zhao Xin, who had vanished into the deep mountains.
This night raid on the North Pole Immortal Sect had far-reaching consequences and was recorded in history as the War of Immortal Extinguishment.
Then, time passed in the blink of an eye.
Twenty years went by.
Twenty years later, snow fell heavily over the Frost Capital.
The vermilion palace walls of the Heavenly Frost Imperial City had long since become mottled, and a thick layer of snow had accumulated on the glazed tiles of the Golden Throne Hall.
Mo Tianfeng sat upon the dragon throne, his white hair sparse. His withered fingers tightly clutched a crimson pill—the Longevity Pill he had looted from the North Pole Immortal Sect.
Relying on these pills, he had forcefully held on until this day.
Suddenly, a commotion arose from outside the hall.
"Report!"
A guard stumbled into the great hall, his face pale as he cried out, "Your Majesty, outside the city... there is someone..."
Mo Tianfeng's cloudy eyeballs moved slightly, his voice hoarse.
"What is there to panic about?"
The guard knelt on the ground, trembling all over.
"That person... that person claims to be Zhao Xin of the North Pole Immortal Sect..."
Plop.
The pill in Mo Tianfeng's hand fell to the ground.
He slowly stood up, his hunched back actually straightening by a few degrees, and a terrifying light burst from his eyes.
"Good... he has finally come!"
At the gates of the Frost Capital.
Zhao Xin, clad in white robes, stood amidst the wind and snow.
Twenty years had passed, yet his appearance had not changed in the slightest; only those eyes were as cold as glacial ice from ten thousand years ago.
"Halt!"
The guarding commander shouted sternly, "Or else—"
Swish!
A flash of sword light appeared.
The commander's head flew high into the air, and fresh blood sprayed onto the city gate, instantly freezing into crimson ice crystals.
Zhao Xin stepped upon the blood and snow, moving forward slowly.
His sword remained in its sheath, yet within three feet of his body, all soldiers blocking the path were shredded to pieces by invisible sword energy!
Severed limbs and broken arms mixed with ice and snow splattered about, paving a bloody path before the city gate.
"Mo Tianfeng..."
Zhao Xin's voice was soft, yet it clearly spread throughout the entire imperial city.
"I have come to take your life."
In the imperial city, three thousand armored soldiers were arrayed in formation.
"Slay this beast!"
The roar of the Imperial Guard Commander tore through the curtain of snow, and the sound of heavy crossbows being drawn was like a swarm of locusts flapping their wings.
Three hundred Black Iron Heavy Crossbows were raised simultaneously, their poisoned arrowheads shimmering with a cold, azure glow under the firelight.
Zhao Xin trod upon the snow, his sword still unsheathed.
"Fire arrows!"
Whoosh whoosh whoosh—!
The rain of arrows covered the sky and sun, yet it stagnated three feet away from Zhao Xin.
He flicked his fingers lightly, and all the crossbow arrows curled back. The throats of the crossbow-wielding warriors simultaneously bloomed with flowers of blood.
As the three hundred corpses fell, the splashed blood beads had not yet touched the ground.
"Form the Heaven Frost Battle Formation!"
Eight hundred heavily armored martial artists charged forward with shields, every step shaking the accumulated snow on the ground.
Zhao Xin finally drew his sword.
The sword cried out like a dragon's roar. Eight hundred black iron shields split neatly in two, along with the martial artists behind them.
Severed limbs and shattered armor poured down like a rainstorm.
With just this one sword, he not only thoroughly destroyed the fighting will of the obstructing soldiers.
At the same time, what was destroyed was also the entire Martial Dao of the Spirit Realm.
A new era had arrived.
"Monster... this is a monster!"
The surviving martial artists began to rout.
Some knelt and kowtowed, while others wet themselves in tears of terror.
They would rather be executed by military law than dare to look at that white-robed figure again.
Zhao Xin stepped over the twisted weapons littering the ground. Wherever his sword edge passed, the snow automatically parted to reveal a bloody path.
Before the Golden Throne Hall, the last thirty-six Grandmaster martial artists formed a death squad array.
The light of their knives, slashed out after burning their essence blood, instantly shattered into ice shards the moment Zhao Xin looked up.
As the sword wind brushed past, thirty-six heads were neatly stacked on the stone steps. Their widened eyes still fixed with the determination to fight to the death.
The snow fell heavier and heavier.
Zhao Xin shook the blood beads from his sword and stepped into the Golden Throne Hall in one stride.
Opposite him, on the dragon throne, Mo Tianfeng leaned on a crimson long blade, waiting alone.
As Zhao Xin walked up the bloody steps step by step, this aging emperor actually laughed.
"Twenty years... I thought you had died in the mountains."
Zhao Xin looked at him coldly.
"How does it feel to cling to life using stolen pills?"
The wrinkles on Mo Tianfeng's face twitched, and a trace of ferocity flashed in his eyes.
"I am the Emperor! I seek longevity!"
He abruptly raised the long blade.
"And you... are merely a stray dog!"
The blade light, red as blood, slashed towards Zhao Xin!
Clang!
Zhao Xin finally drew his sword.
The instant the two weapons collided, Mo Tianfeng was shaken back three steps, a trace of blood escaping from the corner of his mouth.
He looked at his own trembling hand in disbelief.
"Relying on pills to hold on until now?"
Zhao Xin sneered.
"Does that even qualify to be called... longevity?"
Swish!
The sword light flashed, and Mo Tianfeng's right arm was severed at the shoulder!
"Aaaah—!"
The old emperor fell to his knees, fresh blood gushing out.
He looked up at Zhao Xin, suddenly recalling something, and his eyes actually held a hint of pleading.
"Kill me. Use my life to repay those who have died."
Zhao Xin placed his foot on the old emperor's chest, the tip of his sword pressing against his throat.
"Three hundred disciples of the North Pole Immortal Sect; can one person repay their lives?"
Mo Tianfeng grinned, his mouth full of blood.
"I... am of the Emperor's body."
The sword light flashed.
Mo Tianfeng's head rolled to the ground, those eyes staring wide in death, as if still unwillingly gazing at the throne.
"So what."
Zhao Xin picked up Mo Tianfeng's head and slowly walked towards the harem...
Until he was certain that there was no longer any living breath within the entire imperial city.
Zhao Xin stood atop the Golden Throne Hall, looking at the burning imperial city beneath his feet.
"From this day forward, the Heaven Frost Nation..."
With the final sword strike unleashed, the entire imperial palace collapsed with a rumble!
"Shall exist no more."
Amidst the wind and snow, Zhao Xin's white robes remained unstained by a speck of dust.
He gazed in the direction of the North Pole Immortal Sect and whispered softly.
"Disciples... rest in peace."
He was just about to turn and leave when suddenly—
"Waaah—"
A faint cry pierced the dead silence.
Zhao Xin frowned and walked towards the sound.
In the corner of the collapsed side hall, beneath the shattered wood and rubble, an embroidered brocade swaddle was revealed.
The baby girl within was but a few months old, her small face frozen blue, yet she cried out stubbornly.
"To think there is still a wretched seed of the Mo family..."
Zhao Xin muttered coldly, and he slowly raised his long sword.
The tip of the sword hovered three inches above the baby girl's forehead. With just a light push, this last trace of the Mo family's bloodline would be severed.
Just at that moment—
The baby girl suddenly stopped crying. Her fleshy little hand flailed randomly towards the sword blade.
She actually grabbed the sword edge accurately. Even though her palm was cut, she remained completely unaware, instead giggling.
"Gegege."
Fresh blood dripped down her small hand, blooming like several red plums on the snow.
Zhao Xin's sword did not move an inch.
The baby girl's laughter was clear as a bell. Her eyes, like black grapes, stared straight at him, pure and without a single impurity.
She released the sword blade, and her small hand reached forward, as if wanting to grab this white-robed figure.
A drop of blood fell from the tip of the sword, landing right on the baby girl's forehead, like a cinnabar mole.
Clang!
The long sword returned to its sheath.
Zhao Xin bent down and picked up the baby girl. A rare ripple appeared in his eyes, which were like profound ice.
He tore off a section of his sleeve to wrap her bleeding little hand. As his fingertips brushed over it, the wound healed instantly.
"From this day forward," Zhao Xin said as he wrapped the baby girl inside his snow-white outer robe, "you will be called Zhao Xue."
The baby girl fell asleep peacefully in his arms, completely unaware that she had just taken a turn at the gates of hell.
In the wind and snow, the white-robed sword cultivator holding the infant walked further and further away. Behind him were the burning ruins of the imperial city, and before him were the vast, continuous mountains.
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