CHAPTER 640: TRYING TO STEAL SOMEONE’S MAN

The demons shrieked, clutching their heads, staggering as the Veyrasha’s cry tore through the battlefield. It was a sound not of rage, but of grief so ancient it cracked the soul. It was a lament, a divine sorrow that pierced through their twisted minds, dredging up memories they had long devoured and buried.

Han Xin looked up, eyes wide having recognised the soul behind it. It was Han Zhan. Han Xin appreciated his help but he was worried that he would get into trouble.

Han Xin wiped the blood from the corner of his eye, the gesture slow, deliberate. His grip on the axe tightened, veins in his forearms pulsing like lightning. The exhaustion still clung to him, but now he had back up.

The frost demon swung its jagged blade, shards of ice spiraling like razors. Han Xin ducked low, driving the axe into its knee. The demon howled, collapsing in a heap of shattered frost.

The second demon roared, its breath freezing the air into spiraling mist. Han Xin twisted, using the fallen demon’s body as cover, then vaulted over it in a blur of motion.

He brought the axe down in a brutal arc, the blade cleaving through armor and bone. The snow erupted in a spray of blood and ice.

He stood tall, breath steaming, eyes burning with purpose. The tide had turned. He was finally gaining ground, his axe carving through the frost and flame with relentless precision.

The two high-ranking demons snarled and circled, but Han Xin’s movements were sharper now... graceful, deliberate, like a storm given form. He ducked beneath a claw, twisted past a blade, and struck with the fury of a man who had nothing left to lose. Then something cold snapped around his wrist.

He looked down, startled. An ice chain had coiled around him, jagged and pulsing with cursed frost. He yanked at it but before he could break free, a second cuff locked onto his other wrist. His arms were bound.

The spiritual bird shrieked above, its cry fierce and wild. It dove, talons slashing, wings flaring with frostfire. Its attacks were brutal, protective. But then another chain shot through the air—aimed for the bird’s neck.

Han Xin roared, summoning strength from the little divine strength he could master from all the lingering offerings from the villagers. He lunged forward, throwing himself between the chain and the bird. The ice wrapped around his chest instead.

The bird cried out, wings beating the air as it ascended. Han Xin’s ankles were cuffed next, locking him to the ground. He didn’t struggle. He only stared at the bird his bloodshot eyes pleading for him to go.

The bird hovered, wings spread wide in majestic defiance. Suddenly an ice shard tore through its wing and its blood rained from the sky.

Han Xin’s rage surged. But before he could move, a demon kicked the back of his knees, forcing him to kneel. He collapsed, breath ragged.

The demon raised its arm, ice forming into a massive hammer. It intented to drive the ice blade into his skull and end him but before it could execute him...

"Stop!" a woman’s voice rang out.

The demon froze mid-swing, growling low, its hollow eyes locked onto Han Xin.

A legion of frostborn demons knelt in utter silence, their hollow silver eyes lowered, claws buried deep in the snow as if trying to anchor themselves against the weight of her arrival. The air grew still, brittle with reverence.

Then she appeared. Shuang Hua, the Queen of Icebound Sorrow, stepped from the veil of mist, her presence slicing through her subjects like a blade through silk. They did not move because they were commanded they moved because they could not bear to stand in her shadow.

She was impossibly tall, her form wrapped in a gown of shimmering frost silk, woven from the breath of dying stars. It clung to her like mist, trailing behind her in coils of frozen light that shimmered with ancient grief. Her hair, white as snowfall and threaded with silver, drifted around her like a living veil, untouched by wind or time.

Her violet eyes, rimmed with frost, held no mercy. They glowed faintly, as if lit by the last embers of a forgotten sun. Above her brow hovered a crown of frozen tears, each one a crystallized sorrow from a cultivator who had dared to defy her.

Wherever she stepped, the snow did not crunch. It froze into sharp-edged blocks, gleaming like altars. The ground itself seemed to rise in worship. The air thickened, heavy and painfully cold. Even her demon born of frost and silence, shivered in her wake.

Her aura dimmed the sky. Snow-covered trees cracked and died. She approached Han Xin, bound and kneeling. And her frosted-over eyes lit up

Shuang Hua leaned closer, her presence casting a silence so deep it felt like the world itself had stopped breathing. She reached out and grabbed Han Xin’s jaw, her fingers cold as death, forcing his face upward.

Han Xin met her gaze, his expression carved from ice. He wasn’t surprised she didn’t recognize him. That day, when he had struck down her own minions in a fit of fury, she hadn’t seen his face. He was shrouded in a veil of mist.

Her thumb brushed along his jaw, slow and possessive. "Who would have thought," she murmured, voice like falling snow, "that the day I came to freeze this village to death, chasing rumors that the prince of the divine realm had fallen... I would find a precious gem."

The demons around them stiffened, displeased, but none dared speak. None dared raise their heads.

Shuang Hua leaned in, her frostlike breath brushing against Han Xin’s skin. He turned his head away instinctively, but her grip tightened, biting chill escaping her fingertips. His jaw began to freeze, the pain sharp and immediate.

"How about you come back with me to my realm," she whispered, "and be my king?"

Three high-ranking demons lifted their heads in alarm. One, too impulsive, yelled, "Your maj—"

"Shut it," she snapped, her voice cracking the air like thunder.

Then her voice turned softer as she smiled. "I will give you anything you ask for. I will treat you well."

Han Xin’s eyes burned with fury. He didn’t speak nor flinch. He just glared at her refusing to yield.

Shuang Hua was not the type to not get what she wanted. Her pride was carved from glaciers and her cruelty honed by centuries of dominion. She raised her hand, fingers glinting with frost. "You," she said coldly, beckoning to her subordinates. "Bring me the old man."

The villagers screamed, weeping as they tried to shield the elder. But the frostborn demons were merciless. They struck down the defenders, dragging the elder through the snow, his robes torn and bloodied. He was forced to kneel before the Icebound Queen, an ice blade pressed to his throat, thin rivulets of blood already staining the snow.

Shuang Hua leaned in, her breath a veil of frost. She rubbed Han Xin’s lower lip with a gloved thumb, her voice a whisper of threat. "Come with me, or I will kill them one by one."

Han Xin’s glare could have shattered mountains. The villagers sobbed, clutching each other in despair. The elder tried to speak, "No, don’t care about me!" but a demon silenced him with a frozen hand over his mouth.

Shuang Hua turned to Han Xin. "What is your answer?"

He opened his mouth to speak but then a force, raw and divine, slammed into Shuang Hua like a comet. She was hurled across the snow, crashing into the frozen earth with a shriek. She staggered, trying to rise, but another oppressive wave struck her, sending her rolling through the snow, her gown torn, her crown dimmed. The Queen of Icebound Sorrow lay humiliated. And the sky trembled.