Chapter 718: Try Me, Old Hag
Adam shivered, not because of the cold encroaching on the cave’s walls, nor because of the campfire that crackled with a sickly blue hue. No... he had sensed it crash on him like a tidal wave of frost and hate before it influenced his surroundings—a life force that dwarfed anything he had ever felt, putting to shame Adras’ demonic puppet. Even five of them could hardly compare to the monster that had come for him.
Dread gripped his heart, whispering words of inescapable doom—that resistance itself was futile, and fleeing, a fool’s errand.
And when he saw her behind Yann, the dread only intensified.
Pale blue eyes brimming with unconcealed hostility locked onto him. Locks of hair twisted mid-air like hissing serpents, but he knew they merely floated because of her energy.
Hers was a face that should have been beautiful beyond measure—like the immortal fairy from Misha’s bedtime stories—if not for the grimace twisting her features and the frozen lotus tattooed on her brow.
The fabric of her dress, as thin as the wings of a cicada, refracted light around her, as if she wore layers of ice rather than enchanted silk.
His breath hitched, trapped in his throat like a bird in a snare. Still, he forced a crooked smile and clasped his fist. "I think you got the wrong man, Lady Yuehua Ji." He raised his palm, grey wisps of qi dancing between his fingers. "I’m no parasite, just a curious cultivator that seemed to be in the wrong place at the wrong time."
She answered with a wave of her palm. Instantly, the space around the entire hill shimmered like the surface of a lake frozen on the winter solstice. The water was there, but unreachable—he could feel space, but not tear it to flee. Even worse, his lips stuck to each other, turning pale, then purple. He tried to open them, only for his pupils to constrict. He couldn’t. They were frozen.
"A glib tongue for a young man who speaks like one of us. But we both know you aren’t. The Verdant Peak sect’s survivors know it, too."