Chapter 359

The temporary tactical analysis room in the forward outpost of Zhenyuan Star was heavy with a leaden atmosphere.

Outside the porthole, the eternal dark-purple starry sky of the Dead Spirit Star Field silently observed this cramped chamber less than twenty zhang square. On the metal bulkheads, the temporary soundproofing and divine sense-scattering array runes emitted a faint cyan-gray glow, completely isolating the interior from the outside world.

In the center of the chamber sat Wang Ping, Xuanji Zi, Qinglin, and Lei Shuo on four ordinary chairs that felt unusually heavy from bearing the fatigue of days of fierce battle and long journeys, their Daoist robes still stained with minute scorch marks and rock dust from the Moyan Star Mine Cave, their faces etched with exhaustion from continuous high-intensity missions, yet deep in their eyes burned a complex light—shock, gravity, and a lingering trace of fear not yet fully faded.

Before them lay a… no, should say a pile of remains wrapped layer upon layer in spiritual light restrictions and tightly sealed, resting silently on a massive tactical analysis platform constructed of high-density spiritual light.

The remains of a silver puppet.

It had been repeatedly rinsed by Wang Ping with chaotic immortal essence during the return journey, stripping away any possible lingering positioning or self-destruct functions, then layered with seals by Xuanji Zi using the Zhou Tian Star Disk's "Little Northern Dipper Sealing Array." Now it floated silently at the center of the restrictions, no longer resembling the icy, precise, killing-intent-laden combat posture it had three hours prior deep in the Moyan Star Mine Cave.

Its right shoulder joint was completely depressed and deformed, revealing internal fractured cyan-blue energy lines and precision gears and rune arrays so intricate they caused dizziness; at the right knee joint, the heavy blow from the Overturning Seal had cracked the casing, fine silver fissures spreading like spiderwebs; while the most fatal wound lay three cun left of center in its chest cavity—a mere two-finger-wide slit with edges so smooth they seemed precisely sliced by the sharpest blade, piercing its heavy outer armor and multiple internal protective layers.

Along the slit's edge, there were no metal-tearing burrs, no traces of high-temperature melting, only a near-perfect smoothness as if sliced by the Heavenly Dao's own laws.

This was Wang Ping's Chaotic Immortal Sword Embryo—that unnamed yet already showing its edge in actual combat on Moyan Star natal flying sword—which, at the critical moment, unleashed its strongest strike via the "Severing Heaven Sword Intent." The chaotic sword light swept past, precisely severing the puppet's core energy lines and the connection hub of the "Order Crystal" within its chest cavity, forcing this mysterious killing construct from "imminent self-detonation" to "disabled capture" in the final instant before self-destruct sequence completion.

This was also the first time Wang Ping, in actual combat, had exerted the "Severing Heaven Sword Intent" and Chaotic Tribulation Sword's "severing causality, destroying myriad laws" properties to such a minute degree. After that strike, his immortal essence was nearly exhausted, yet the nascent form of the Severing Heaven Sword Intent in his sea of consciousness had never before condensed so substantially.

At this moment, through the slit, the true form of the "Order Crystal"—a fist-sized sphere wrapped layer upon layer in dense energy lines and protective brackets within the puppet's chest cavity—could be faintly discerned.

It was a… crystal whose beauty and coldness defied linguistic description.

Its shape was nearly a perfect regular icosahedron, each face smooth as a mirror, refracting a silver cold light belonging to no world, eternal and unchanging. The crystal's interior was not still, but seemed to contain countless hair-thin silver streams of light running along absolutely precise trajectories, like a miniature galaxy, or like the internal gearwork of a precision instrument, following some "Absolute Order" law that Wang Ping and others could not comprehend yet instinctively felt palpitate with alarm.

It emitted light, yet not a band easily perceptible by spiritual power or divine sense. It was a colder, more obstinate light, as if capable of freezing all change and chance.

When Wang Ping first glimpsed this crystal through the slit on Moyan Star, his Chaotic Nascent Soul rarely emitted a flicker of alert—not fear, but an instinctive repulsion and opposition, as if two utterly opposed Daoist origins, at extremely close range, were generating mutual rejection.

Now, this crystal had been layered with twelve stellar seal talismans by Xuanji Zi, yet still flickered faintly every few breaths, like the heartbeat of a slumbering beast—stubborn and cold.

"The Envoy of the Patrol Heaven Bureau arrived an hour ago and is currently in urgent consultation with Zhenheng Zhenren."

Xuanji Zi lowered her gaze to the constantly refreshing information flow on the star disk, her icy voice tinged with a hint of hoarseness: "According to their preliminary assessment, the technology system carried by this puppet bears no hereditary relation to any known civilization in the Spirit Realm, including the ruins of extinct ancient tribes."

Its power core……the energy compression density of this "Order Crystal" reaches an inconceivable degree. Preliminary estimates suggest that a fragment the size of a thumbnail, if fully released, possesses energy equivalent sufficient to utterly erase a medium-sized Patrol Heaven battleship at the molecular level.

She paused, lifted her eyelids, and in those eyes usually as calm as cold stars, for the first time appeared deep concern: "And its energy utilization efficiency is nearly……perfect. Nearly no leakage, no waste. Every iota of energy is precisely used to execute preset commands."

Qinglin let out a soft sigh; his normally vibrant Yi Wood vitality now somewhat dimmed, continuous high-intensity deployment of purification domains, followed by successive encounters with death-energy erosion and the mental impact of order puppets, even his mid-Nascent Soul cultivation felt strained. He asked softly: "Daoist Xuanji, that 'Silver Radiance Council'……does the Patrol Heaven Bureau have any leads on that side?"

Xuanji Zi shook her head: "No record found. At least in my Daoist academy's and the alliance's public and encrypted information libraries up to 'Heaven' clearance level, there is no mention of the 'Silver Radiance Council.' Either it is an extremely ancient organization long hidden from the world, or……it simply does not belong to any known sphere of influence."

She turned to Wang Ping, adding: "Headmaster Jiang of the academy has already received the emergency report, with the order: this object and all related information must be immediately transferred via the highest encryption channel to the Alliance's 'Wanxiang Pavilion' core analysis team. Simultaneously, our academy enjoys priority notification rights and joint research rights."

Wang Ping nodded slightly. He sat quietly in the chief seat, not participating in the discussion, but repeatedly savoring all memory fragments brought back from Moyan Star, combat experiences, and the metallic box left by the silver-robed person, as well as the puppet's final mention of the "Silver Radiance Council" in its icy tone.

A vague unease, like the ten-thousand-year-old chill beneath the Northern Ming ice field, seeped in thread by thread into his heart.

Silver-robed person, Netherworld tribe, order puppet, death-energy spirit-drawing ritual, returning abyss seed, Silver Radiance Council……

These fragments scattered across the Spirit Realm's borders, lost immortal palaces, ancient ballads, and now, between the icy remains lying still in the restrictions. They seemed to possess some vague, as-yet-uncaptured internal connection, like deep-sea undercurrents—appearing independent on the surface, yet sharing a common source below.

What made him more vigilant was that the frequency of these events' outbreaks was accelerating.

From the "disorder" seal fluctuations of the Chaotic Immortal Palace fragments, to successive assaults on Spirit Realm border planets, then to the simultaneous appearance of Moyan Star's Yin-Yang evil stronghold and silver-robed forces……all this seemed to be advancing toward some unknown direction, accelerating.

"Time may be even more urgent than we imagine." Wang Ping spoke, his voice steady, interrupting the trio's low talk. His gaze shifted from the puppet remains, sweeping over the three comrades-in-arms who had shared life and death, his eyes filled with sincere gratitude and respect: "Many thanks to all three for the Moyan Star battle. Without Daoist Xuanji's precise calculations, Daoist Qinglin's domain support, and Daoist Lei Shuo's frontal containment, this mission could not have so completely brought back the remains and crucial information."

Lei Shuo grinned, his rugged face full of excitement from battle spirit not yet fully faded: "Team leader, no need for thanks! That strike was truly satisfying! Old Lei here has never seen such sharp sword intent—even that iron lump's turtle shell was like cutting tofu!" He paused, then added with regret: "A shame that fellow's final self-destruct was forcibly terminated; otherwise, I'd have smashed the 'Silver Radiance Council's' origin out of its core storage!"

Qinglin smiled warmly, clasping his hands: "Senior Brother Wang Ping is too modest. Had it not been for Senior Brother's crucial insight into the flaw in that order force field, breaking its defense with Chaotic Myriad Changes, we would likely have faced more danger than safety. Our safe retreat is entirely due to Senior Brother's timely decision."

Xuanji Zi said nothing, merely giving Wang Ping a slight nod—the recognition and trust in her icy brows and eyes needed no words.

Wang Ping no longer stood on ceremony. He rose, carefully placing the analysis table's puppet remains along with its layered restrictions into a specially crafted sealing jade box imbued with the Daoist resonance of Jianmu seeds, and said in a deep voice: "The Zhenyuan Star mission is temporarily concluded. We shall immediately set out to escort this object back to the academy, reporting face-to-face to the master and alliance high-ups."

The star vessel set sail once more.

During the four-hour return journey, Wang Ping nearly closed his eyes. Sitting cross-legged in the rest cabin, he brought his Chaotic Nascent Soul, Overturning Seal, and Chaotic Tribulation Sword into inner vision, meticulously reviewing his gains and losses from the Moyan Star battle, especially the details of that sword's execution.

The Chaotic Tribulation Sword—forged from peerless immortal materials like Chaotic Essence-Magnetic Crystal and Tribulation-Destroying Thunder-Struck Wood, combined with his own essence-blood and soul origin, then refined through microcosmic tool tribulation—truly displayed its edge for the first time on Moyan Star.

That strike, Wang Ping did not deliberately pursue speed or power. He merely, at the moment the Overturning Seal broke the puppet's defense, perceived the extremely minute yet real "discord" at the connection point between the chest cavity's Order Crystal and energy lines—where the crystal's absolute order and the puppet's mechanical relative order could not perfectly cohere at the interface.

Like a tiny crack in a perfect closed loop.

Wang Ping's Chaotic Divine Sense, aided by the Jianmu seed, keenly sensed this crack. And his Chaotic Tribulation Sword, driven by the "Severing Heaven Sword Intent," merely did this: along that crack, it made a light "cut."

Like Ding the butcher slicing an ox—using no thickness to enter the gap, spacious and ample when wielding the blade.

That strike consumed far less spiritual power than expected, yet its destruction was precise and lethal. Not brute-force destruction, but "severing connection," "blocking energy"—this is the embodiment of the Severing Heaven Sword Intent's true meaning: "severing causality, seizing a thread."

"Now I understand." Wang Ping's heartfelt realization deepened. The true might of the Chaotic Tribulation Sword lies not in its sharpness (though it is indeed unmatched), nor in its contained Tribulation-Destroying Thunder Intent, but in its deep compatibility with his Severing Heaven Sword Intent. It is not a battlefield heavy weapon for frontal clashes, but an assassin's sword for "breaking the deadlock"—seizing opportunity, striking lethally.

This is entirely different from the Overturning Seal's path of "suppressing myriad laws, open and aboveboard."

One proper, one extraordinary, one suppressing, one severing—complementary and mutually enhancing.

Wang Ping opened his eyes; the Chaotic Tribulation Sword in his dantian seemed to sense his master's realization, emitting a faint sword hum, the bright silver line along its spine flowing with delighted light.

He exhaled lightly a mouthful of turbid air, his heart gaining another measure of clarity regarding the future cultivation path.

The star vessel pierced layer after layer of space; when the familiar outline of the Ninth Dao Institute's mountain-protecting array appeared outside the porthole, Wang Ping had already returned to peak condition.

Tianji Hall, Jia One Chamber.

Only four people were present in the hall.

Academy Head Jiang Mingyuan still wore his usual deep-gray Daoist robe, hands behind his back, standing in the chief seat, his face sunk and still as water. At his side was an elder with white hair and beard, clad in a silver-white star-pattern Daoist robe, his body surrounded by faint deductive Daoist resonance—the Deputy Pavilion Master of the Alliance's Wanxiang Pavilion, "Tianji Zi," a renowned Grand Adept of the Harmonious Void stage famed in the Spirit Realm for Grand Derivation Arts. Wang Ping had glimpsed him from afar during the academy's festivities; now, at close range, he felt that vast resonance like starry skies, precise as ritual codes.

Behind Tianji Zi stood two expressionless Wanxiang Pavilion attendants, their breaths deeply restrained, both at the Xuantian stage of cultivation.

Wang Ping, Xuanji Zi, Qinglin, and Lei Shuo stood in the hall's center. The jade box sealing the silver puppet's remains, having been received by Jiang Mingyuan, was placed on a temporary analysis table constructed of ninth-tier array materials at the hall's center.

Jiang Mingyuan's gaze fell on Wang Ping as he spoke slowly, his voice low and steady: "Ping'er, relate in full detail, from beginning to end, everything that happened on the Moyan Star expedition."

This was the first time his master had addressed him in such an intimate term before an assembly of alliance Grand Adepts. Wang Ping's heart jolted—he knew the gravity of the situation had reached a point demanding absolute trust and utter frankness.

He concealed nothing, recounting from the Shadow-Prowler's infiltration of the Dead Spirit Star Field and the shocking deathly stillness of Moyan Star's surface, to deep mine cave entry and ambush by the Soul-Consuming Corrupt Bone Array, to observing the Netherworld cultivators' techniques in battle, disrupting array order nodes with Chaotic power, the initial display of the Five-Colored Divine Light, capturing the Yin-Yang evil leader and searching his soul, to the memory fragments revealing the silver-robed cultivator and metallic box, the eruption of "Absolute Order" extermination power from his soul's depths, the silver-robed puppet's appearance and attack, the fierce battle in which he severed the puppet's core energy lines to capture the remains, and the puppet's final mention of the "Silver Radiance Council"—every detail, not a word omitted, even his own realization at that moment regarding the Chaotic Dao and Severing Heaven Sword Intent, all related truthfully.

The narration lasted nearly half an hour. The hall held only Wang Ping's steady voice, with occasional technical supplements from Xuanji Zi. Jiang Mingyuan listened with rapt attention; Tianji Zi stroked his beard, eyes closed, yet his fingertips continued slow calculations, starlight faintly flickering around him.

When Wang Ping uttered the words "Silver Radiance Council," Tianji Zi's calculating fingers jerked to a halt.

After Wang Ping finished his final sentence, the hall fell into a prolonged silence.

Jiang Mingyuan looked toward Tianji Zi. This white-haired, white-bearded elder slowly opened his eyes, his eyes rarely showing a trace of confusion and……apprehension.

"Silver Radiance Council..." he repeated softly, his voice aged yet carrying the certainty of deducing all things, "This old man has exhaustively searched through a lifetime's reading of millions of scrolls, traced the transformations of heaven, earth, and man's three powers, and dares to declare: this name does not appear in any formal record of any era, any faction, or any language within the Spirit Realm."

He paused, his gaze falling upon the order crystal layered with seals on the analysis platform, his tone growing even more solemn: "Yet, this old man faintly senses upon it a trace... extremely faint, extremely distant, sharing the same origin but different frequency with the Spirit Realm's heavenly Dao laws—a Dao imprint. Like a flower in the mirror, near yet unreachable. Such power is not produced by this realm."

Not produced by this realm.

These six words, like a block of ten-thousand-jin profound ice, weighed heavily upon every heart in the hall.

Jiang Mingyuan pondered for a long time, finally speaking again, his voice carrying resolve: "The Myriad Phenomena Pavilion shall devote all efforts to analyzing this puppet's remains, especially that 'Order Crystal'. The Dao Institute will open partial access permits to the Chaos Secret Realm to assist research. This matter shall be wholly overseen by Daoist Tianjizi, who will report directly to the Alliance's Supreme Council. Young ones, you four..." His gaze swept gently over Wang Ping and his three companions, "First rest and recuperate, await further developments."

Wang Ping bowed in assent.

He had thought that after this matter concluded, he would have relatively ample time to continue contemplating the Chaos Dao, nurturing the Fusang tree seed, and await further clues from Cangxuan and Yuliuli regarding the Nether Shadow and Silver Robe forces.

However, the rhythm of fate never shifts according to personal wishes.

Merely three days later, a message talisman arrived from the extreme north of the Spirit Realm, carrying a biting chill capable of freezing divine sense, tearing through the protective array of Xuang Peak's cave dwelling and landing precisely in Wang Ping's palm.

It was an invitation letter.

The letter's face was neither silk nor paper, but a thin-as-a-cicada's-wing jade slip, its entire body presenting an icy blue luster, faintly revealing snowflake-patterned Dao markings flowing within. Upon holding the jade slip, an overwhelming, irresistible aura of extreme cold assailed the face, yet carried no aggression, purely and proudly displaying its origin—the Northern Ice Palace, hegemon of the northern borders.

Wang Ping extended his divine sense into it, and a clear, cold voice like ice springs striking stone—pleasant yet aloof—directly resonated in his sea of consciousness:

"Daoist Wang Ping of the Ninth Dao Institute, please open."

"I am the Palace Master of the Northern Ice Palace, Bing Po."

"In the northern polar regions, the Bingxuan Xuanpo Abyss has recently experienced abnormal activity. The primordial, anciently dormant extreme cold Xuanqi within the abyss has surged forth at a frequency unseen in ten thousand years; in the abyss's core forbidden zone, the monitoring great formation has continuously detected unknown presences lingering and probing, attempting to breach the seal and approach the abyss eye."

"The Bingxuan Xuanpo Abyss is the foundation guarded by my clan for myriad years, relating to the stability of the northern borders' heavenly and earthly spiritual pivot; no loss can be tolerated. Yet the root of this anomaly remains unclear to this day, and ordinary cold-attribute cultivation methods struggle to penetrate the abyss's core for investigation."

"According to alliance intelligence, Daoist, you once refined the 'Taiyin Jièmiè Háncháo' origin in the Qingming Heavenly Domain—this is one of the supreme cold qi left by the founding ancestor of my Northern Ice Palace, sharing the same source and lineage as the core Xuanqi of the Bingxuan Xuanpo Abyss. Your person can bear and command such extreme cold Dao principles, making you the unequaled choice to venture into the abyss's core to investigate the anomaly's origin."

"Therefore, in the name of the Northern Ice Palace's Palace Master, I formally invite Daoist Wang Ping to set aside your affairs and come to the northern borders to assist my clan in investigating the Bingxuan Xuanpo Abyss anomaly and tracing the tracks of those who lurk and spy."

"If Daoist consents, the Northern Ice Palace will open the 'Bingxuan Xuanpo' partial restriction, accessible only to successive palace masters since the sect's founding, allowing Daoist to enter the periphery outside the abyss eye to sense the anomaly's origin with the same-source cold qi; and promises that upon success, to reward with one 'Bingxuan Xuanxin'—a wondrous treasure condensed from ten thousand years of abyss ice—and three months of qualification to contemplate our clan's secret transmission, the 'Taiyin Xuantian Jian'."

"This matter concerns the safety of myriad spirits in the northern borders, and may also involve deeper-reaching changes. Bing Po awaits your favorable reply in stillness."

As the words fell, the icy blue jade slip transformed into a thread of extreme cold radiance, which of its own accord merged into Wang Ping's palm, leaving behind a faintly visible, hexagonal ice-crystal-shaped Dao marking—the Northern Ice Palace's unique invitation seal, and also a spatial coordinate enabling direct contact.

Wang Ping opened his eyes; the hexagonal ice-crystal Dao marking on his palm flickered faintly, releasing the northern borders' unique, clear and aloof chill.

Taiyin Jièmiè Háncháo. Bingxuan Xuanpo. Same-source cold qi.

He recalled the Qingming Heavenly Domain, the depths of the Bingxuan Bingyuan, where the ancient cold jiao triggered the aurora illusion, and his own ordeal, forcibly refining with the Chaos Five Elements' power that thread of utmost yin and cold origin, seemingly able to freeze the soul.

Taiyin Jièmiè Háncháo, since that battle, has merged into his Chaos Nascent Infant like blood, becoming the foundation of his water-system Dao arts, and also his initial profound comprehension of the extreme cold laws.

He had never imagined that this origin cold qi, originating from the ancient cold jiao of the Bingxuan Bingyuan, would share such profound ties with the Northern Ice Palace and the Bingxuan Xuanpo Abyss of the northern borders.

Wang Ping did not decide immediately. He informed his master Jiang Mingyuan via encrypted message talisman and requested the Dao Institute provide more information on the Northern Ice Palace and the Bingxuan Xuanpo Abyss.

Half an hour later, Jiang Mingyuan's reply and a confidential dossier three inches thick arrived together at Xuang Peak.

The dossier's contents gave Wang Ping a clearer understanding of the Northern Ice Palace, hegemon of the northern borders.

The Northern Ice Palace, one of the oldest forces in the Spirit Realm's northern borders, has endured for over a million years, longer even than the history of the Ninth Dao Institute. Its founding ancestor, the "Bingxuan Xianzi," is said to have been a stunningly talented Taiyin Yin-body cultivator at the end of antiquity, who sensed the heavenly and earthly ultimate cold Dao within the Bingxuan Xuanpo Abyss, entered seclusion for myriad years, proved the Dao and united the body, and founded the Bingxuan lineage.

The Bingxuan Xuanpo Abyss is the founding foundation of the Northern Ice Palace and also the core of the northern borders' heavenly and earthly spiritual pivot. Legend says this abyss was not naturally formed, but rather the "Dao Fallen Land" where a great cultivator of the Taiyin Dao fell, his lifetime cultivation and Dao transformed into this place. The Xuanqi condensed within abounds with the purest Taiyin Dao and utmost chill, a supreme treasure land dreamed of by cultivators of cold-attribute arts.

Yet simultaneously, the Bingxuan Xuanpo Abyss is also one of the most dangerous forbidden zones in the northern borders. The abyss is bottomless, its cold qi congealed and undispersed; ordinary Nascent Infant cultivators without special protection, upon descending a thousand zhang, will have their divine souls frozen and shattered, turned into ice sculptures. The abyss core forbidden zone is accessible only to successive Northern Ice Palace Palace Masters and a few Taishang Elders—an absolute secret area.

"Abnormal activity occurred a month ago, the frequency of extreme cold Xuanqi surges has tripled...... Unknown presences detected outside the abyss core forbidden zone...... Attempting to approach the abyss eye......"

Wang Ping read word by word the dossier's description of recent anomalies, his brows gradually furrowing.

Extreme cold Xuanqi surges, the sealing great formation monitored probes.

This may be related to the resource plundering of the Netherworld Tribe in the border star domains, to the Mo Yan Star's Yin Ming outpost and its behind-the-scenes "Gui Xu Zhi Zhong" trials, to the Silver Robe cultivators, Order puppets, Silver Radiance Council......

Could there be a connection?

Or is it merely a coincidental, independent regional event?

Wang Ping could not determine.

Yet Bing Po Palace Master's words touched his deepest vigilance: "This matter concerns the safety of myriad spirits in the northern borders, and may also involve deeper-reaching changes."

A Palace Master of a million-year-old ancient clan, speaking with such gravity about "deeper-reaching changes," could not be baseless alarm.

Just as Wang Ping studied the dossier and weighed pros and cons, his master Jiang Mingyuan's encrypted message talisman arrived again, this time a direct divine sense projection.

In the projection, Jiang Mingyuan's expression was calm, but the trace of worry in his eyes' depths was clearer than ever before.

"Young Ping, the Alliance has learned of the Northern Ice Palace's invitation. After cross-examination by the intelligence department, there are three clues you need to know."

"First, the date when the Bingxuan Xuanpo Abyss first showed abnormal fluctuations matches the time you encountered the ancient cold jiao in the Qingming Heavenly Domain's Bingxuan Bingyuan and refined the Taiyin Jièmiè Háncháo origin, differing by no more than ten days."

Wang Ping's pupils contracted slightly. This temporal connection was absolutely no coincidence.

"Second, the Heaven-Patrolling Squadron backtracked three months of deep-space monitoring records in the northern border star domains; during the peak of the Bingxuan Xuanpo Abyss anomaly, they captured at least four instances of extremely brief, weak, yet regular spatial fold activity—similar in characteristics to the spatial disturbances detected near the Mo Yan Star and the border star domain planets you were attacked on, with over sixty percent similarity."

"Third," Jiang Mingyuan's voice paused slightly, as if weighing words, "According to the Myriad Phenomena Pavilion's preliminary analysis of that 'Order Crystal', its energy spectrum contains an extremely obscure segment that requires a specific Chaos frequency to sense...... a 'Cold-Attribute Law Imprint'. The imprint's origin shares the same source as the Spirit Realm's northern borders Taiyin Dao, yet has been artificially twisted and deformed, endowed with an 'Absolute Sealing', 'Eternal Freezing' Order characteristic."

"Young Ping, the Bingxuan Xuanpo Abyss may have become a target coveted by certain forces. The Netherworld Tribe needs the 'Gui Xu Zhi Zhong' and the 'Jieyin Zhi Guang'; the Silver Robe forces and their behind-the-scenes 'Silver Radiance Council' left behind metal boxes, dispatched Order puppets...... They and the northern border anomaly may have countless connections."

Jiang Mingyuan gazed steadily at Wang Ping, his eyes deep as the starry sky:

"The Alliance advises you to accept the Northern Ice Palace's invitation."

"First, you bear the Taiyin Jièmiè Háncháo origin, making you the sole choice to venture into the abyss core to investigate the anomaly's root. Second, a journey to the northern borders may provide you with more clues about the Silver Robe forces and Order laws. Third......" A flicker of barely perceptible worry crossed Jiang Mingyuan's eyes, "The Fusang tree seed needs stimulation in extreme opposing environments to grow. Taiyin extreme cold, seemingly contradictory to the Chaos Dao's 'Evolution' and 'Inclusiveness', actually complements them. The profound Xuanqi of the abyss, for you, is both challenge and opportunity."

He concluded: "But as your master, I also have a word to say. The Northern Ice Palace's inheritance spanning myriad years has unfathomable depths; its Palace Master Bing Po Xianzi, rumored to have reached late-stage Unity after Unity, possesses a cold and aloof nature, extremely difficult to approach. You go not only for yourself, but representing the Ninth Dao Institute, the Alliance. Act with caution, neither humble nor arrogant, meet with sincerity...... Furthermore......"

Jiang Mingyuan's tone softened, carrying an elder's admonition: "The Bingxuan Xuanpo Abyss is far more perilous than any secret realm you have previously experienced. Never neglect caution merely because you possess the cold tide origin. Remember, only a living cultivator has the right to speak of the future."

Wang Ping listened silently, rose, and bowed solemnly to his master's projection:

"Disciple respectfully follows the master's command. I shall not disappoint the master's and Alliance's trust, act with caution, and return safely."

The projection dissipated. Wang Ping stood by the window, gazing northward.

In the night sky, the North Star's pure radiance has eternally poured down. Yet in that extreme northern land where starlight struggles to reach, beneath the snow plains covered in myriad-year-old profound ice, the bottomless Bingxuan Xuanpo Abyss inhales and exhales the extreme cold's breath, awaiting a cultivator bearing the same-source power to step into that unknown silence.

The hexagonal ice-crystal Dao marking on his palm seemed to sense his present thoughts, flickering slightly brighter, radiating an even clearer and firmer chill.

Wang Ping hesitated no more. He took out the Chaos message talisman already used once, its luster somewhat dimmed, and mixed Chaos immortal essence with a thread of the Fusang tree seed's spatial Dao rhythm, transmitting a brief message to Yunhao, far in the Celestial Palace fragments:

Due to an unexpected journey, my return date is uncertain. Jiuer and Qingya, please look after things. If anything urgent arises, send a message to the Dao Institute. Take care.

He then put away the transmission talisman, turned, and walked toward the spirit herb garden deep within his cave dwelling.

The Jianmu seed still took root quietly in the Five Elements Vital Soil, its two tender leaves lush and green, the chaotic nebula pattern within their veins slowly flowing; each flicker drove the surrounding space to produce an imperceptible respiratory rhythm. It seemed to sense its master's impending departure, the tender leaves swaying gently, releasing a thread of affectionate Dao resonance.

Wang Ping crouched down, his fingertips lightly touching the leaf, and passed a thread of gentle divine thought into it:

"I am going to a very cold place. There lies primordial extreme cold power, which may help you grow further. When I return, I will bring you along again."

The Jianmu seed seemed to understand, the chaotic nebula pattern on its leaves flickering slightly, as if nodding.

Wang Ping carefully lifted it from the Vital Soil, placing it in the palm of his dantian's chaotic Nascent Soul. The Nascent Soul embraced Qingya, its countenance solemn and dignified, the lotus-seed Dao pattern at Qingya's tip flashing with a soft yet firm glimmer.

All preparations were complete.

Wang Ping finally inspected his pack once more: the Heaven-Turning Seal, the Chaos Tribulation Sword, the Star-Fixing Instrument, the Realm-Breaking Cone, the Profound Yin Ward-Armor, the Soul-Cleansing Talisman, the Nine Revolutions Soul-Returning Pill, and sufficient chaos spirit stones and medicinal pills to sustain months of cultivation.

He changed into a newly made outfit, lined with Profound Yin Ward-Armor and overlaid with the Ninth Dao Institute's first-rank instructor's formal dark-blue Dao robe, solemnly fastening the Chaos Star Command at the most visible point on his waist.

Then, he stepped out of the Xuanwei Peak cave dwelling, facing the rising morning sun, transforming into a gray escape light that was not dazzling, flying toward the direction of the Dao Institute's core transmission hall.

The escape light streaked across the sky, leaving in the dawn a steady and composed trajectory.

Outside the Ninth Dao Institute, the sky was high and the clouds light. The wind, snow, and cold abyss of the extreme north waited silently.

Three days later, the Northern Border.

The transmission array's silver light gradually faded, and bone-piercing cold surged in like a tide.

Wang Ping opened his eyes; beneath his feet lay the territory of the Xuanbing Palace.

The sky was an eternal, pure, almost transparent ice-blue, without a trace of cloud haze, only a sun much smaller than the core region of the Spirit Realm, emitting a clear, cold light rather than a scorching one. Gazing far into the distance, heaven and earth were filled with the interwoven colors of silver-white and ice-blue: continuous undulating snow mountains, eternally unchanging glaciers, ice lakes like mirrors reflecting the heavens, and far off, faintly visible, a majestic palace complex built from countless giant Xuanbing—this was the Xuanbing Palace.

In the air lingered a primordial pure yet extremely dangerous extreme-cold spiritual qi that Wang Ping had never felt before; each breath seemed to have countless tiny ice crystals condensing in his lungs. Within him, the cluster of Taiyin Jièmi Hántuō Yuányuán, which had remained gently dormant since its refinement in the Qingming Heavenly Realm, suddenly became active at this moment, like a traveler returning home, like a long-caged beast catching the scent of its native land, stirring and rejoicing in his dantian meridians, resonating intensely with the omnipresent extreme-cold spiritual qi outside.

Wang Ping was slightly startled, immediately circulating his Chaos Immortal Yuan to soothe and suppress this nearly out-of-control origin. In the depths of his eyes, a profound ice-blue hue quietly surfaced, only to be swiftly swallowed by the Chaos's gray murk.

Outside the transmission hall, Xuanbing Palace envoys had long been waiting respectfully.

Leading them was a young woman dressed in moon-white palace attire, her hair coiled high, her visage cold and immaculate. She was at the mid-Nascent Soul stage, her aura like a myriad-zhang cold pond, deep and silent, with a faint blue ice-crystal mark on her brow, indicating her extraordinary status in the Xuanbing Palace. Behind her stood eight attendants in ice-blue armor, holding long halberds, their aura condensed like ice sculptures—all early Nascent Soul cultivators of the Xuanbing Palace guards.

The woman stepped forward half a pace, nodded slightly to Wang Ping, her etiquette complete yet devoid of any extra warmth:

"Daoist Wang Ping of the Ninth Dao Institute, I have long admired you. I am Xueyin, senior disciple of the Xuanbing Palace, here by the Palace Master's command to await your esteemed arrival."

Her voice was like ice crystals striking, clear and cold, yet each word distinct.

Wang Ping returned the salute with clasped hands: "Daoist Xueyin, you are too kind. Wang Ping comes as promised, thank you for your distant welcome."

Xueyin slightly turned her body, making a "please" gesture, her voice still unhurried, cold and clear as before:

"The Palace Master awaits you outside the Xuanpo Abyss, at the 'Hanpo Hall.' Daoist, please follow me."

She raised her hand and pointed; a snow-white phantom ice phoenix, its feathers like frost, eyes ice-blue, wingspan over three zhang, flew from her sleeve, transforming into a vessel condensed from pure Xuanbing, flowing with ancient rune light, hovering silently in midair.

"This is the 'Han Yu Vessel,' the Xuanbing Palace's highest standard for receiving guests. Daoist, please."

Wang Ping did not decline, stepping aboard the vessel.

The Han Yu Vessel set off silently, carrying him and Xueyin and the others toward the distant majestic Xuanbing Palace complex, and further north to the visible ice-blue light pillar connecting heaven and earth—the position of the Beiming Xuanpo Abyss—flying smoothly and swiftly.

Outside the vessel's window, the myriad li of ice plains of the Northern Border drifted slowly by. Wang Ping's gaze was deep and still, falling upon the ever-closer Xuanpo Abyss direction, exuding ancient cold intent.

The hexagonal ice-crystal Dao pattern in his palm now shone with a steady, fervent ice-blue light, as if responding to that unknown abyss and invitation far away.

The curtain had risen on the Northern Border journey. Yet beneath this surface of extreme cold and silence, what hidden disturbance lay beneath, and how it relates to the forces wandering the starry shadows—perhaps the answer waits in the unfathomable depths of the Xuanpo Abyss.