The Tomb
Noah's body was cold and a chilly current converted in his blood and spread through his meridians.
Cold sweat dripped down from his forehead and flowed past his arms and shoulders.
The numbing chill was like a needle that permeated his pores targeting his sea of consciousness.
Noah defended himself as he sought to control the Icy needle.
After an hour, he spat out blood.
Why was he doing this? Why did he particularly pick this cultivation method instead of others?
It wasn't a bad thing to choose a simpler cultivation technique and forego the chilling pain of the Nine Frost Nails.
He could go to Portia or travel the world with Nathan. Live an easy-going and honoured life in comfort, and enjoy half a century of love and affection with his beloved.
A short fulfilling life.
Noah did not want that.