Translator: EndlessFantasy Translation Editor: EndlessFantasy Translation
The atmosphere started to vibrate.
Whoosh!
A strong gust of Cold Energy started gushing out from Garen’s body, covering the layer of frost on his legs, which was then shattered. The Cold Energy was pure and white, with seemingly no contamination whatsoever. It then continued along the mysteriously-patterned floor and spread towards all the soul seeds in the hall.
“Faded Creation!”
Garen stretched his arms wide, and a horrifying burst of Cold Energy started spreading to his surroundings even faster until everything was completely still, frozen in the pure-white ice blocks.
A billow of crystals started forming in layers beneath Garen’s feet as they started spreading toward the entire hall.
The hall was degenerating. The original layer of ice was cracking, and after being infected, its original ice-blue color turned into a shade of pure white, which was an even higher leveled pure crystal.
“What… is this Cold Energy!!??”
Virtual shadows appeared above every Soul Seed. These shadows were somewhat tall and short, some of them resembled males and some of them resembled females. Every one of them had a formidable chill that would make people fear. For an ordinary person, just one glance would have thoroughly frozen the person’s soul to death.
They were the dead Teacher Ancestors of multiple generations in the Scarlet Snow Sect’s history, either sacrificed in war battles or died from natural causes. They all did have a similarity: they had all practiced the Scarlet Snow Technique to its peak already.
“These are Teacher Ancestors of the past generations!” Garen was shocked and the violent chills stilled suddenly.
The white chill fused with the blue-white chill, turning the hall into two ice rooms, with Garen and at least Teacher Ancestors being at two completely different spectrums.
“I did not expect there will still be disciples who can practice such a pure and ultimate chill…”
A female Teacher Ancestor spoke solemnly.
“So many years… We’ve waited for so many years…”
“I can’t remember already. A hundred years, a thousand years, two thousand years, or perhaps even longer.”
“But the wait was worthwhile, and we made it through the long wait, didn’t we?” Among the few figures, the black shadow with the strongest trace of chill silently appeared.
“Just when our souls are almost drained out, destiny has sent us such a pure Body of Ice.”
Garen focused his stare on the figure who was entirely pitch black, only a pair of fluorescent blue eyes glowing could be seen. Even the figure’s face was unnoticeable.
“The original ancestors?!”
“An unprecedented Body of Ice… So authentic, so pure…” The person was in awe.
“Such a chill has far exceeded the Scarlet Snow Technique’s standards!” A tall and scrawny Teacher Ancestor said in a hushed tone.
“Everyone, have we come to a decision?” The original Teacher Ancestor asked.
The entire hall was quiet.
After a good while, a handsome Teacher Ancestor finally laughed out.
“At first, we thought we’d never see hope, that’s why we were forced to just wait. Yet, when the time has now come and opportunity has landed right in front of our faces… here we are, being anxious and mindful.”
“Yeah! Isn’t this the hope I’ve always been waiting for? Now that it’s here, I’m recoiling in fear instead,” Another person among the crowd laughed as well.
“Teacher Ancestors!” Garen wanted to say something.
“We’re not Teacher Ancestors, we’re just their last trace of conviction condensed by their will,” The black shadow in the center answered. “If it wasn’t your chill that activated us, we might have just vanished forever in history after another hundred of years, and nobody would’ve known that we actually existed before.”
Garen inhaled deeply. Leaving one’s will in a Soul Seed to last a couple thousand years was something he understood, it was one of the magic of the Endors as their knowledge regarding souls had reached great heights.
“Due to the fact that I didn’t reach the so-called Board Realm, I never had the chance to join the Perpetual Motioners even until the day I died. I’m not reconciled to this yet!!” The original Teacher Ancestor who spoke just now said with a sour expression which clearly showed his reluctance.
“As one of the most powerful prodigies in the Scarlet Snow Sect history, even transmigrating between worlds along the Mother Stream until here, but I still wasn’t able to break through any single Perpetual Motioner Level!”
“So what if I don’t understand Board!? My Secret Technique is Army-Level, even the Demon King Level is nothing less than a Perpetual Motioner!” The original Teacher Ancestor spoke softly. “That’s why I didn’t accept defeat just like that. Even when I died in battle at the end, I still gathered all my essence and converted it into my very own Soul Seed, so I can wait for my next chance.”
Garen finally made out the person’s background story, he was indeed the original Teacher Ancestor, the Secret Technique powerhouse who established the Scarlet Snow Sect. Not only that, the other person was freakishly similar to Garen. Both of them traveled along the Mother Stream until they reached this current world, it was just that he was less fortunate as he did not have such an intrepid born talent. Besides that, he was not able to see through the general trend of events and he could not transmigrate through several worlds continuously. He could only drift around according to the current.
“Now, I’ve finally seen hope.” The original Teacher Ancestor was staring at Garen with eyes overflowing of hope. “Tell me, is Army Level really any lesser than a Perpetual Motioner?”
Immediately, the hole regained peace once again while every single soul had their eyes on Garen.
Garen looked around and saw the same expression everyone was wearing on their faces. Each of them seemed anxious and exhausted, not forgetting the hopeful looks they were aiming at Garen. They had been waiting for this answer far too long. This was the highest form of belief of Secret Techniques, a sort of devout, a kind of unbreakable faith!
As a Secret Technician, Garen had the same faith and belief. Although his faith was once shaken, now that he had successfully broken through Level Eight of his Hellfrost Peacock Technique, all his doubts had been completely erased.
On the other hand, these people, the ancestors, were different. Their conditions were far worse than his when they began, yet they still adhered for so many years.
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Ignoring viewpoints and personalities, just this perseverance alone that lasted a couple of thousand years, this willpower they showed, was enough for him to pay them the highest respect already.
“To be frank, I don’t know whether Secret Techniques or Mechs are stronger.” He said slowly. Looking at the stunned stares from the people around him, he changed his direction.
“But I will personally give it a try. I might be able to see the things that you can’t see clearly.”
The hall returned to its original quiet state as the slightly-disappointed expressions lighted up once again with a glimmer of hope.
“I shall become the strongest Frost Secret Technician in the history of this world. Not just one of them, but the strongest!” Garen held out his hand as a deadly chill hovered above his palms. Traces of the Hellfrost Peacock Technique’s pure chill started converging and slowly, a white crystal started forming bits by bits in his palms.
“If it’s you, then perhaps…” The original Teacher Ancestor said softly.
A cold wind constantly whirled around the hall, and everyone fell into silence instantly.
Maybe it was half an hour, maybe it was an hour, or maybe it was longer than that. Finally, the original Teacher Ancestor spoke again.
“Your presence today is just to seek inspiration from the pure Cold Realm that I’ve been waiting for, am I right?”
He looked around.
“Are all of you still unwilling to let it go?”
“Not let it go? How is that possible?!” A tall and slender female Teacher Ancestor snickered, “Isn’t this the ultimate hope I’ve been waiting for all these years? Let us lend him a helping hand!”
She suddenly turned around and transformed into a thread of blue chill. She then rushed toward Garen and encircled him before spinning around him rapidly.
“Even Annie gave up willingly, how can we be lagging behind so much!” The second Teacher Ancestor suddenly broke down before turning into a blue thread and rushing toward Garen.
“With all that we have, go… Improve your Scarlet Snow Technique to level so great it is never-before-seen by anyone else!” The third Teacher Ancestor, too, transformed into a thread of light.
“Our will, our faith, take it… Take it all… All creature of the world can never escape from fading.”
“You! You shall become the strongest of them all!! Freeze everything…”
A bunch of threads starting swarming towards Garen, encircling him and spinning around him swiftly.
The sturdy, black shadow standing in the middle then held out his hand, placing it relatively against Garen’s palms from a distance.
“Inherit all our willpower, may you freeze anything that comes in your way. It’s too bad… I can’t see it anymore…”
Boom!
With a soft crash, he transformed into a blue thread and joined the torrent of chills; it encircled Garen and started spinning as well.
“Go… Go and become the most powerful man of this generation! Bring along our will and faith!!”
The original Teacher Ancestor spoke lastly and his words echoed in the hall.
The blue threads were still spinning around Garen rapidly like an exquisite chiffon. It even looked like a shapeless blue cloud.
A vast amount of pure Cold Energy was swarming around Garen. At the same time, extensive experiences of practicing the Scarlet Snow Technique from the Teacher Ancestors of multiple generations were also pouring into Garen’s mind.
Garen understood that the wills instilled within these Soul Seeds were waiting for a perfect moment like this.
Yet, he did not expect that he would trigger such a massive legacy. Every Scarlet Snow Technique essence of Scarlet Snow Sect’s Teacher Ancestors was fusing within his body at the moment in high speed.
Various chills of different attributes were sinking into the faded, dead-silent peacock’s chill. Along with the strongest faith of Secret Techniques, every chill surrendered to the dead silence unconditionally, which then fused together within his body.
A delicate layer of armor, as white as jade, slowly covered every inch of Garen’s body – his head, chest, arms, lower body and both legs. Two horns arched out of the ice armor at his waist part as if it was covering Garen’s waist like a belt.
Buzz… A white ring of halo appeared at the back of Garen’s head. That was a product converged from every Teacher Ancestor’s soul’s energy focused together, meaning that this armor was extremely powerful.
The dead silent chill was getting stronger by the moment, while his Scarlet Snow Technique’s grades were once again increasing under the increment of the armor.
Grade Fifteen was slowly broken through… Grade Sixteen… Grade Seventeen… Grade Eighteen!
The last three grades were just suddenly broke through within such a short amount of time. The last three grades were mainly to increase the texture of one’s chill. Garen’s chill itself already had a decent texture, to begin with, in addition to the priming given by the Teacher Ancestors of multiple generations and the input of past experiences through the soul armor, he had reached a whole new level of understanding toward chills.
A breakthrough like this was nothing extraordinary.
Grade Eighteen represented the ultimate Scarlet Snow Technique. There were altogether eighteen grades of Scarlet Snow Technique, which would be equivalent to a Level-Nine Energy Machinist.
“Who knew there would be martyrs like them in this world!” Garen stared silently at everything shattered in front of him. With his head bent low, he solemnly paid respect as a fellow Secret Technician.
“I will fulfill all your wishes.”
The armor on his body shone a flicker of white light which vanished within seconds, it then formed a V-shaped white pattern. His aura once again returned to the Non-Falling Level, and he finally turned away slowly.
The Frost Hell shall no longer exist from today onwards.
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