Elder Zhao Mingwei's Dao Integration aura blazed like a sun as he descended from the clouds, his white robes pristine despite the chaos erupting across the southern territories.

Behind him, a formation of thirty Core Formation disciples spread out in perfect attack geometry, their synchronized qi creating a web of binding energy designed to trap and drain a single target.

"Feng Lianhua," he called out, his voice carrying the authority of centuries. "Former Elder of the Immortal Sect, oath-breaker, and traitor to the path of righteousness. Surrender now, and your death will be swift."

Feng stood on a crystalline platform of her own creation, her voluptuous curves accentuated by robes that had been torn in several places during her intelligence gathering at the outer sect compounds.

Her massive breasts rose and fell with controlled breathing, pale blue eyes scanning the approaching formation with tactical precision that would have made Zhang Wuji proud.

Her ice cultivation blazed around her in fractal patterns that caught the afternoon light like captured diamonds, each crystal formation a weapon waiting to be unleashed.

The power flowing through her meridians was unlike anything she'd possessed during her centuries of sect service—Peak Soul Formation enhanced by her bond with Tianlong, refined by cosmic tribulation, and sharpened by the kind of passionate dual cultivation that the sect's dusty manuals could never have imagined.

"Traitor?" she repeated, her voice carrying across the distance with deadly calm. "Tell me, Zhao Mingwei, when exactly did loyalty to the sect become synonymous with blind obedience to fools?"

The elder's face darkened, his aura pressing down harder. "You abandoned your oaths! Cast aside centuries of dedication for the bed of a mortal pretender! Do you think your new... appetites... have made you strong enough to face the sect's justice?"

Feng's lips curved into a smile that would have frozen summer itself.

The crude implication—that her transformation was mere lust rather than true advancement—revealed everything she needed to know about how the sect viewed women's cultivation.

Even now, even facing her ascended power, they reduced her to nothing more than a hole that had been filled by the wrong man.

"My appetites," she said softly, ice crystals beginning to form in the air around her, "have indeed made me stronger. Strong enough to see through the pathetic limitations you called cultivation. Strong enough to recognize that true power comes from connection, not isolation."

She raised her hand, and the temperature plummeted thirty degrees in an instant.

The attacking disciples' breath began to mist as frost formed on their weapons and robes, their perfectly synchronized formation faltering as hypothermia set in.

"But most importantly," Feng continued, her voice now carrying the absolute authority of winter itself, "strong enough to crush insects who mistake tradition for truth."

The first wave of attacks came as Elder Zhao launched a barrage of sword qi while his disciples activated their binding formation.

Golden chains of condensed dao intent materialized in the air, designed to suppress and drain any cultivator caught within their embrace.

Feng didn't dodge. Instead, she stepped forward, her crystalline platform expanding beneath her feet as she met their assault head-on.

The binding chains struck her aura and shattered like glass against diamond, their suppressive energy unable to penetrate her newfound power.

"Impossible!" one of the disciples gasped as his contribution to the formation simply... ceased to exist. "She's only Peak Soul Formation! How can she—"

His words cut off as an ice spear, thin as a needle and sharp as absolute zero, punched through his throat.

He toppled from his flying sword, blood freezing before it could hit the ground.

"Only Peak Soul Formation?" Feng's laugh was like winter wind through empty halls. "Child, I am Peak Soul Formation synchronized with a Great Vehicle realm emperor. Your mathematics are about three thousand years out of date."

Naturally it might seem that the level gap between each realm was just from one portion to another, but in truth, the more higher the realm is, the wider the gap of the power between.

To put it simply, an early Great Vehicle realm was supposedly the dao linked with heaven and earth, and dao integration was the dao linked with the body, which in itself make the Great Vehicle realm as strong as thousand dao integration realm combined—Especially how her husband's power were much more potent with strange enforcement from the life force.

Even getting portion of that power shared to her, she was right now strongest among all of them standing in front of her.

Elder Zhao's expression shifted from confidence to alarm as he realized what he was truly facing.

This wasn't the ice queen who had spent centuries following sect protocols and limiting herself to approved techniques.

This was something evolved, transformed, elevated beyond the constraints that had held her back for so long.

He began burning his life force, aura blazing brighter as he prepared his ultimate technique. "Formation breakdown! All disciples, convergence pattern seven! If we can't bind her, we'll overwhelm her!"

The remaining disciples abandoned their geometric precision in favor of a desperate swarm attack, twenty-nine Core Formation cultivators diving toward Feng from every angle, their combined qi creating a storm of destructive energy.

Feng's response was beautiful in its simplicity. She clasped her hands together as if in prayer, and the ice around her began to sing—a high, crystalline note that grew louder and more complex as she channeled everything Tianlong had awakened in her.

The Absolute Zero Mandala unfurled from her position like the birth of a new constellation.

Thousands of ice crystals, each one geometrically perfect, began orbiting around her in intricate patterns that defied three-dimensional logic.

They moved like living things, intercepting attacks with surgical precision while launching counterstrikes that turned her enemies' qi against them.

Three disciples struck simultaneously from her blind spots, only to find their sword qi converted into ice sculpture the moment it touched her defensive patterns.

The frozen energy constructs then exploded outward, sending razor-sharp fragments through their bodies with lethal precision.

"Elegant," she murmured, watching their corpses fall. "But ultimately wasteful. Zhao Mingwei, surely you can provide better entertainment than this?"

The elder's ultimate technique reached critical mass—a massive sword projection that blazed with the accumulated power of his Dao Integration cultivation.

It was the kind of attack that could level mountains, designed to obliterate any defense through sheer overwhelming force.

Feng tilted her head as she studied the approaching devastation, her pale blue eyes reflecting its light like mirrors.

Then she raised a single finger.

The ice crystal that formed at her fingertip was no larger than a pearl, but it contained enough concentrated cold to freeze the concept of heat itself.

When it met Elder Zhao's ultimate technique, the result wasn't an explosion—it was a perfect sphere of absolute silence as both attacks simply ceased to exist, their energies neutralized by forces that operated beyond normal physics.

Elder Zhao stared in horror as his life's work dissolved into nothing. "What... what are you?"

"I am what the sect could have produced," Feng replied, her voice carrying genuine sadness now, "if you had ever bothered to teach women the true depths of cultivation instead of keeping us locked in support roles and auxiliary positions."

She was preparing to end him when space rippled behind the elder, and another figure materialized—Elder Chen Wuxian, the sect's intelligence chief, his Late Dao Integration aura crackling with urgency.

"Zhao!" he barked, ignoring Feng entirely. "We have to leave! Now!"

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