But shadows would never accept frost shining so steady. The cults of evil masters united under banner called Black Sun Covenant. Dozens of sects gathered, vowing: "Tonight we shatter Everfrost. If clan endures, our future lost."
Scouts rushed to Leng Zhi. "Patriarch, armies march!" Elders paled. Never before had so many united.
Leng Zhi did not tremble. He summoned disciples in square. Thousands gathered, banners of snowflake circling vine raised high. His voice rang beneath winter sky:
"Storm comes. Remember Sutra. We do not chase. We endure. Our wall is not mine—it is ours. Frost never falls!"
Echo shook valley as disciples roared.
That night, battle erupted. Black Sun Covenant stormed valley like tide. They unleashed beasts, flames, shadows. Sky itself cracked red.
Leng Zhi stepped forward, core blazing. All six rings flared at once. Eternal Winter Field spread across battlefield, halting swarm mid‑charge like statues of ice. Frozen Pulse sent shockwaves crippling chains. Fortress shielded disciples as spears thrust. Villagers cried as pattern repeated.
Hours passed. Clan bled, but wall did not break. Leng Zhi stood calm through carnage, staff unshaken even as hair froze silver.
By dawn, covenant broke, retreating in despair. Everfrost Patriarch remained standing, clothes bloodied, eyes calm.
Clan wept, shouted, embraced. Across north and south, messengers spread words: Black Sun Covenant broken by Leng Clan's frost.
Leng Zhi that night wrote final inscription of chapter: Frost bleeds but never bows.
And Tome pulsed deep: Heritage reaching continent's heart. Cycle secure.