Ling Xuan clicked her tongue in annoyance as she quickened her pace before running towards the light.
But the mist moved faster towards her.
Ling Xuan noticed that the temperature was dropping drastically, almost as if someone had suddenly opened the door to the North Pole.
Suddenly, her steps halted as a sharp whistle flew past her face horizontally before impinging on the wall. It shattered like glass but the spot it had touched was covered with a thick layer of frost.
Ling Xuan followed the direction from which the strange object flew. Her brows narrowed slightly as crystal-like flowers grew out from the cracks in the wall. They all seemed mature and ready to be harvested.
She couldn't figure out why the flowers were suddenly attacking, and she couldn't stay to find out as the mist was already closing in on her.
Ling Xuan started running again, and with every step she took, petals dropped out of the flowers, slicing through the mist as they aimed at her.
