Wolfmoon Barbarian City—nestled on the border between the Shengwu Empire and the Qizhan Empire.

Less a proper city, more a lawless frontier hub for task exchanges.

No border guards. No appointed officials. Over time, it became a microcosm where strength alone ruled.

With enough power, you could obtain anything here. Powerful Faithweavers traded battle merits for handsome boys; those lacking strength but skilled elsewhere bartered intelligence for beautiful female slaves.

Along the bustling streets, merchants hawked rare treasures and daily goods. Chained boys and girls were dragged by traffickers, loudly auctioned with flowery titles—"ethereal fairy," "peerless beauty"—promises spun like glittering lies.

These youths were ordinary mortals, cultivation-less. Some fought fiercely, drawing cruel laughter. Others wept silently, eyes pleading. A few stood hollow-eyed, soulless, like weathered wooden statues.

Passersby barely glanced. Wolfmoon lay far from imperial reach. Border cities traded with it, secrets tangled tight. Who’d risk reporting its horrors?

So lawlessness festered. An eerie chill now clung to the vibrant street—a veneer of chaos over treacherous currents.

Just as a trafficker boomed about his "wares," a voice sliced through the air—icy, hollow.

"Hmph!!"

Authority colder than winter’s heart.

The traffickers froze mid-shout, bodies locked, only eyes trembling with raw terror.

Sunlight still blazed—but heat vanished. The breeze turned razor-sharp, biting to the bone.

Everyone shrank inward. Even Faithweavers shivered violently, gazes jerking upward—

There.

A woman in snow-white robes hovered in the void. Gauze veiled her face; only frost-lit eyes remained—proud, untouchable, like a Heavenly Mountain snow lotus.

Wind teased her skirt, revealing glimpses of sculpted legs. Ethereal. Dreamlike. A snow fairy given form.

The entire city forgot the cold, breath caught, eyes wide.

Her icy gaze swept the chained youths. Delicate brows furrowed. A slender hand pressed down.

"Kneel."

Thud!!

Two words. Imperial will crashing down.

Souls trembled as if hammered. Faithweavers, nobles, enslaved children—all collapsed into deep bows, frozen in reverence.

Before her, even the proudest "shoppers" from noble houses felt like dust beneath an emperor’s shadow.

*Who… is she?! What draws a being of this power to this wretched place?!*

A few high-tier Faithweavers dared lift their heads—shaking, straining—but surrendered within seconds, foreheads pressed to stone.

Silence.

Her eyes shifted from the kneeling youths to the traffickers and smug young masters. At the sight of them, a flicker of pure disgust flashed deep in her gaze.

Her snow-pale hand rose—gentle, effortless.

Ding————

No flash. No sound.

The traffickers and nobles crystallized instantly. Then shattered—silent, glittering ice dust drifting down.

Her expression never wavered. As if swatting ants.

Ignoring the trembling crowd below, her gaze fixed south—toward the Qizhan Empire’s border. A faint, unreadable glint in her eyes.

She tapped the void.

Boom!

A brilliant white streak tore skyward. Sonic booms cracked the air as she vanished—racing toward the empire’s edge, swift as judgment.