The snow had finally begun to settle.
What moments ago had been a battlefield of shattered stone, frozen Qi, and lingering echoes of hatred was now quiet, the wind carrying only faint traces of ash where the Evil Mountain Spirit had once existed. Han Yu stood there for several breaths, letting the tension bleed out of his body, before finally turning toward Madam Cold Fang.
She hovered a short distance away, her white robes untouched by blood or soot, ice Qi still faintly coiling around her like a living thing. Even after a battle of such intensity, her breathing was steady, her posture unshaken.
Madam Cold Fang's gaze did not move from the empty ground where the spirit had been annihilated.
Han Yu's mind raced.
A High Elder was not some minor figure. Even among the Slaughtered Moon Divine Blood Sect, High Elders stood near the pinnacle of authority, just beneath the sect master and a handful of supreme elders. Such a person disappearing would not be a trivial matter.
