A Youngster of the Dark Clan

The ice mountains and glaciers glowed fulgently. Deadly sharp icicles were scattered around.

Hiding in a crack of the glacier in a corner of this icy world was a short and thin figure, his complexion grave. He gingerly hid his God Body in the blind corner of the glacier while lifting his face to peep through the crack above his head.

It was a youngster of the Dark Clan. He looked around fifteen or sixteen years old. He had a pair of dark pupils eyes, which looked crazy and ruthless as if he was a bloody, insane slaughterer. The murderous aura on his body wasn't something young people at his age should have. His light purple hair was disheveled, covering his forehead and half of his face.

The teenager squinted, his face evil. He didn't even blink when watching the butterfly war chariot of the Dark Shadow Clan appear above the crack.