Dying
Editor: Henyee Translations
It didn't make a difference whether she was present or not; her teammates were utterly indifferent to her affairs.
Qiong Hao cast a sidelong glance at Qiao Mu. He truly had the audacity to step forward with a resounding clack. He glared coldly at Qiao Mu and inquired, "Where is it?"
An icicle sped toward his face.
Almost instantaneously, before he could react, Qiong Hao's expression wavered, and he swiftly sidestepped in a fluster. He had just conjured a defensive barrier with his hand.
That icicle pierced through the protective layer in front of him in virtually no time.
The razor-sharp icicles materialized before him with a swish, barely an inch away from his forehead.
Any closer, and this dagger-like icicle would have impaled his forehead.
With astonishment, Qiong Hao stared at the icicle mere inches from him. He took a deep breath and froze, afraid to make even the slightest movement.