In the end, he opened his mouth and swallowed the jade box whole. His belly bulged briefly into a perfect square before shrinking back to normal. He flicked his tail as if nothing had happened.

  Drake said calmly, “Complaining is pointless. We’re tied to the same fate now—you and I both. I’m the one closest to ascension. If you want out of this situation as soon as possible, then help me properly.”

  Just as he finished speaking, Lauren’s voice came from outside the hall.

  “Master, your disciple Lauren requests an audience.”

  “She’s here,” Drake said.

  The conversation ended at once.

  “Enter.”

  The moment Lauren stepped inside, Edmund came charging toward her on all fours.

  Dragons looked majestic in the sky.

  On the ground… it was honestly hard to describe.

  Lauren barely suppressed a laugh. “What are you doing here?”

  “Saying goodbye.”

  Lauren: “...”

  Then why did you arrive before me?

  She turned to Drake and bowed. “Master, I’ve come to take my leave.”

  “Is everything prepared?” he asked.

  “Yes. I’ve bought everything I need.”

  Drake gestured for her to step closer. “Come here.”

  Confused, Lauren leaned forward.

  He reached out and lightly tapped her forehead.

  In an instant, an enormous flood of information surged into her consciousness.

  This is—

  “A… a map of the Icefield Secret Realm?” she gasped.

  “Yes. I went there many years ago. If you can explore as far as the fourth level, this trip won’t be in vain. On the way, be careful.”

  The map Drake had given her was astonishingly complete. Most cultivators could only obtain information reliable enough to reach the third level at best.

  “Thank you, Master. I’ll take my leave.”

  After departing from Starfell Summit, Lauren contacted Dante, and the two agreed to meet at the mountain gate.

  They teleported first to Thornspire, which housed the largest teleportation nexus closest to the Far North.

  This was territory controlled by the Divine Sword Sect. Sword-carrying cultivators were everywhere.

  Because of the disturbance caused by the Icefield Secret Realm, Thornspire had become a chaotic blend of factions and races. After only a few steps, Lauren had already sensed demonic presence in the crowd.

  “So even demons are coming?” she asked quietly.

  “Of course. Everyone wants a piece of it. Stay alert.”

  The two moved inconspicuously. Dante swallowed a Fading Pill, then motioned for her to take one as well.

  Lauren activated the Magical Pearl instead.

  Before Dante’s eyes, her appearance rapidly shifted—her face, aura, even her spiritual fluctuations transformed into someone completely different.

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  His eyes widened, and he stuttered, “A… a fox demon’s Magical Pearl?”

  Lauren smiled and nodded. Dante really was well-informed.

  “This is a truly rare treasure,” he murmured with awe. “Only an Immortal Venerable could possess something like this.”

  Lauren replied casually, “My senior brother, the sect leader, also owns quite a few rare treasures.”

  Dante’s smile froze.

  “Quite a few,” he repeated faintly.

  Heh. Quite a few indeed.

  .....

  The two of them used concealment artifacts to suppress their visible cultivation, adjusting their auras to the Core Formation stage.

  The main forces active in the Icefield Secret Realm were Core Formation and Nascent Soul cultivators, with the occasional Spirit Severing powerhouse mixed in.

  As for Qi Refining and Foundation Establishment cultivators—those people usually only scavenged around the outer perimeter before retreating home with whatever scraps they could get.

  To stay inconspicuous, Dante summoned a small, battered-looking flying skiff—barely large enough for two or three people.

  Low-profile, efficient, and easy to abandon if things went to hell.

  Once they were airborne, Dante suddenly remembered something and turned to Lauren.

  “By the way, I sent word to Sebastian and Veronica. They were training on the Eastern Continent, but they should be on their way.”

  “Okay,” Lauren replied simply.

  After several days of continuous flight, they finally arrived near the location marked on the map—the outer zone of the Icefield Secret Realm.

  There was no official gate.

  Just a vast white wasteland where the air itself twisted with cold distortion.

  Countless cultivators had already sensed the abnormal fluctuations. Tents had sprung up in clusters across the snowfield.

  And, of course, wherever cultivators gathered, commerce followed.

  Those with sharp business instincts had already set up stalls between the tents, shouting prices for talismans, pills, furs, heated artifacts, and emergency supplies.

  The secret realm hadn’t officially opened yet, but the outer zone was already buzzing with activity. Faces were bright with excitement, greed, and anticipation—everyone dreaming of striking it rich inside.

  “Let’s stay here,” Lauren said.

  “Alright.”

  Dante chose a sheltered area shielded by broken ice ridges and quickly set up their tent.

  “For safety—and so we can watch each other’s backs—Ms. Lauren, you’ll have to share the tent with me.”

  As he spoke, he pulled on the internal divider cloth.

  With a soft rustle, the tent instantly split into two separate rooms.

  Then he planted several array flags in a precise formation.

  The temperature inside stabilized immediately. Wind, noise, and hostile probing were all blocked. They could hear faint sounds from outside—but those outside could hear nothing from within.

  Lauren pulled open the curtain and asked, “Did Sebastian and the others give a time?”

  Dante calculated for a moment. “About three days.”

  “Three days?” Lauren frowned. “The blizzard is eroding the boundary field. At this rate, it’ll probably open in less than three.”

  “No problem,” Dante said calmly. “If it opens early, we go in first and leave them a mark.”

  In truth, many Thunder Sect disciples had come as well—but none of them traveled in large groups. Everyone had naturally broken into teams of two or three.

  Dante soon noticed a familiar figure and stepped outside to greet him.

  Lauren didn’t recognize the man at all. When Dante returned, he explained, “That was Senior Brother Orion.”

  Lauren paused, then suddenly remembered. “Wait—Orion? The one who sold me that formation array years ago? Nash’s close friend?”

  “Yeah,” Dante nodded. “They used Fading Pills and disguised themselves as rogue cultivators.”

  Lauren glanced toward the tent opening again.

  If he hadn’t told her, she would never have guessed.

  The Orion she remembered was tall, refined, and strikingly handsome.

  The person outside now was a mustached, weather-beaten middle-aged rogue with messy hair and a bearish frame.

  They were practically different species.

  Another day passed.

  The blizzard intensified violently.

  The cultivators who had pitched their tents too close to the front line paid the price—by the following morning, the entire area was empty.

  Whether they had fled or been swallowed by the storm… no one wanted to guess.

  The once-bustling merchant stalls shut down completely. Everyone stood tensely at the edge of the storm zone, eyes locked on the distorted blizzard wall.

  The air crackled with pressure.

  “We really can’t afford to wait three days,” Lauren said. “I’ll notify Sebastian. If it opens early, we enter immediately.”

  Dante stepped outside to send messages through his communication token.

  At the same time, Edmund climbed out of the tent and stretched.

  “It’ll open this afternoon,” he said flatly. “You should be ready.”

  Lauren sat cross-legged inside, casually toying with the Strange Fire Plant in her palm.

  The lotus-shaped flames shimmered—and suddenly pulsed violently.

  A thought struck her.

  She lifted her gaze toward Edmund. “You spoke to my master about something, didn’t you?”

  “Yes,” Edmund admitted without hesitation.

  “What did my master say?”

  “He asked me to do him a favor. To place something at the polar core.”

  Lauren blinked. “The polar core?”

  “Why didn’t he ask me directly?” she pressed.

  “He said your cultivation isn’t high enough.”

  “Then why didn’t he go himself?”

  “He’d be frozen solid.”

  Lauren: “……”

  That somehow sounded both absurd and terrifying.

  She looked carefully at Edmund’s armored body, lifting a hand to tap the hard scale-like plates on his chest.

  “But you’re like this…” she murmured. “You have a physical form, but really you’re only a fragment of soul.”

  She knew his strength was overwhelming against most Nascent Soul cultivators—but she had never seen him fight truly high-level opponents.

  What exactly was her master planning to place at the very core of the Icefield?