329: Chapter 237 The Eternal Ice Plains, the Venerable Ones Trapped

Yun Ming had been flying over the vast ice plains for who knew how long.

He exerted his full strength to unleash the Law of Heaven and Earth, his body swelling to a height of a hundred zhang; from afar, he looked like a moving mountain.

Yet the clouds overhead remained pressed extremely low; no matter how high he flew, he could not touch them in the slightest.

He then activated the Tahua Zizai Escape Technique, pushing his speed to the limit. A five-colored stream of light streaked through the air, leaving a long trail of radiance across the ice plains, yet the snow plains beneath his feet remained endless, as if he would never reach the boundary.

After speeding along this entire way, Yun Ming had exhausted more than half of the spiritual power within his body, and his whole body felt tired and heavy.

However, he dared not stop, because whenever his pace slowed, a voice would punctually ring in his ears.

"Stop wasting your effort."

The voice sounded weak and hoarse, like someone plagued by long-term illness, struggling to squeeze the words from their throat.

Yet, strangely, there was no malice or mockery within it, only a numb and flat tone.

It was as if this person had been trapped here for too long, having long grown accustomed to everything, simply repeating the same words to every newcomer who stumbled in.

Yun Ming ignored it, gritted his teeth, and continued flying forward.

For three whole days and nights, he did not rest for a single moment.

With seventy percent of his internal spiritual power exhausted, his hundred-zhang giant form could no longer hold up, slowly reverting to his normal human appearance; he could only fly at a low altitude, skimming the surface of the ice.

Looking around, the surroundings remained an unchanging world of ice and snow, boundless and without the slightest movement.

That voice also popped up every now and then; sometimes it rang out every few hours, and sometimes it didn't make a sound until a day had passed.

No matter how far he flew, it felt as if he were just spinning in place.

Slowly, Yun Ming also discovered that there was more than one person speaking in his ears.

The first voice was the weakest and most persistent, repeating that one line over and over: "Stop wasting your effort."

The second voice was extremely dry and hoarse, as if it hadn't spoken in tens of thousands of years, its tone stiff: "It's useless, save some energy."

The third voice was incomparably old and full of exhaustion, muttering repeatedly: "Another one... another one..."

The fourth voice was as deep as muffled thunder, its tone certain: "You can't get out of here."

The fifth voice was shrill and strange, carrying a hint of manic laughter: "Another one to keep us company?"

The sixth voice was the calmest, unhurried and patient, like a stagnant pool of water: "Stop and take a rest."

Six voices, representing six people trapped here.

Yun Ming finally stopped.

It wasn't that he was admitting defeat and giving up; rather, he had realized one thing.

Since even these six experts were advising him to stop struggling, it was clear that continuing to fly aimlessly was truly just a waste of effort.

He slowly landed on the ice surface and sat down cross-legged.

The sky was filled with falling goose-feather-sized snowflakes, which soon accumulated in a thin layer on his shoulders and head.

Yun Ming did not raise a hand to brush them off; he closed his eyes and focused on circulating his Cultivation Technique to regulate his breathing, bit by bit recovering his depleted spiritual power.

Piercing cold air seeped into his clothes, but he remained completely indifferent to it.

At this moment, that weakest voice rang out again: "You finally stopped flying?"

Yun Ming opened his eyes, looked toward the empty snow plains, and asked in a deep voice: "Who exactly are you people?"

The surroundings instantly fell silent, with only the soft sound of snowflakes falling.

After quite a while, the sixth calm voice slowly spoke: "You ask us first, then who are you?"

Yun Ming did not hide anything and answered truthfully: "My name is Yun Ming, I am just a Loose Cultivator at the Early Nascent Soul Stage."

"Early Nascent Soul Stage..." The first voice repeated it in a low tone, with a hint of sighing in its voice, "It has been a long time since I have seen an intruder with such low cultivation. Your luck is truly bad; with just this bit of ability, wanting to leave here is even harder than it is for us."

Yun Ming did not respond. After waiting a moment and seeing that the other party did not speak again, he asked once more: "I ask you all to reveal yourselves and tell me, who exactly are you?"

After a brief silence, the first voice was the first to announce its identity: "I am the First Palace Master of Star Palace."

Yun Ming's fingers, resting on his legs, suddenly tightened, and huge waves surged in his heart.

Star Palace was a top-tier major power in the East Xuan Region, with a Legacy spanning tens of thousands of years, famous throughout the world for cultivating the power of the stars.

This First Palace Master was a legendary figure; the outside world said he had long since ascended to become an Immortal, so who could have imagined that he was actually trapped here.

Immediately following, the second hoarse voice rang out: "Myriad Demon Hall Master."

Myriad Demon Hall ruled over all the Yao Race in the world, and the Palace Master was an old dragon that had lived for countless years, recognized as one of the strongest among the Yao Race of the entire Xuanhuang Continent. That such a big figure was actually trapped here too.

"Samsara Valley Master." The old voice followed.

Samsara Valley was the most mysterious power in the East Xuan Region, rumored to hold the secrets of Reincarnation. The Valley Master rarely showed his face throughout the years, and no one knew his true background; now, he had also revealed his identity.

"Grand Elder of Taixu Grotto-Heaven." The voice, deep as thunder, rang out.

Taixu Grotto-Heaven was one of the oldest Sects on the continent, with a foundation so deep it was hard to fathom. Being able to sit in the position of Grand Elder, his strength was naturally unfathomable.

The shrill laughter rang out again, carrying a hint of mockery: "Supreme Elder of Cangwu Divine Mountain. How about it, scared, right?"

Cangwu Divine Mountain was as famous as Taixu Grotto-Heaven, its status incomparably revered.

Finally, the sixth voice slowly said: "Founding Ancestor of Divine Forging Sect."

Shenduan Sect established its standing in the world through Artifact Refining, and this Founding Grandmaster was a miracle man of the ancient era, rumored to have personally crafted a quasi-Immortal Artifact, and was known as the number one person in the history of Artifact Refining.

Yun Ming sat on the ice plains, unable to speak for a long time.

Six, a full six Void Refinement Divine Lords!

They were all figures standing at the very pinnacle of the Xuanhuang Small World, capable of shaking the heavens and the earth with a mere gesture, deterring all races.

Yet now, these six peerless experts were all trapped in this ice plain, unable to escape.

He took a deep breath of the cold air, suppressing the shock in his heart, and asked: "What exactly is this place? It is actually able to trap you six Seniors."

I originally thought this was the Tianbei Region, but no matter how cold the Tianbei Region is, it is definitely not this bizarre.

The ice beneath my feet is incredibly hard; I cannot break it even with my full strength. The clouds overhead can never be touched, and my Divine Sense is also suppressed to the death, able to extend at most ten miles; I cannot even distinguish the direction.

"Tianbei Region? Hahahaha!" The fifth shrill laugh rang out suddenly, full of disdain, "What is the Tianbei Region? This place is ten thousand times colder than the Tianbei Region!"

This is not ordinary wind and snow cold; it is a chill that can freeze through tendons and bones, eroding the Divine Soul, drilling into the body along the gaps in the bones.

"Stop laughing, it's too noisy." The first weak voice spoke up to stop it.

The fifth voice gave a disgruntled harrumph and did not speak again.

After a moment, the sixth calm voice rang out again, slowly revealing the truth: "This place is called the Thousand-Sorrow Snow Plains. It does not belong to the Southern Sky, Northern Sky, nor is it within any region of the East Xuan or West Ming; it is simply not on the map of the Xuanhuang Small World."

He paused, his tone full of helplessness: "We all accidentally stumbled in, and afterwards, we could never leave. Over all these years, batches upon batches of people have come, and not one has managed to leave successfully. We, too, cannot get out."

The snow continued to fall incessantly across the sky, and the billions of miles of ice plains were deathly silent.

Yun Ming looked at the boundless, pure white world, his heart feeling heavy.

Since even six Void Refinement mighty figures were at their wits' end, he, a mere Nascent Soul Cultivator, was truly afraid he would be trapped here forever.