The icy blue halo of Beiming Hanyuan flowed slowly behind them, like the unchanging aurora borealis, silently watching the three figures from behind.
Su Yuqi walked at the very back. Her injuries had not fully healed. Although the wound on her shoulder had scabbed over, every time she raised her arm, it would aggravate the wound and cause a slight stinging pain.
Her dark red dress was covered in ice shards and dust, and her long hair fluttered wildly in the cold wind, but she didn’t complain of being tired or slow down.
Chen Ping walked at the front, the Dragon Slayer Sword hanging at his waist, his purple eyes scanning the surroundings, his divine sense covering a radius of fifty miles.
Although the edge of the Northern Abyss is much safer than the interior, who knows if the Temple of Light has already sent reinforcements?
Jiang Xuelan walked in the middle, her ice-white dress fluttering in the cold wind of the Northern Dark Abyss.
Her hand rested on the hilt of the sword, icy blue spiritual energy flowing through her fingertips, ready to respond to any unexpected situation.
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