Iron Sword, Frost-Cold

Legend has it that on the night the Xiao family was wiped out, someone saw a sword gather frost amid the bloody rain.

Fifteen years later, a young man in black stormed alone into a branch headquarters of the Xuanyin Cult. Before his sword even left its scabbard, every candle in the hall went out. The cult leader roared, “The Xiao family’s swordsmanship has been extinct for years!” The young man sneered. “The sword is cold in its case. Until the blood has gone cold, I won’t get a single enemy’s name wrong.”

He brushed the unfading frost on the sword case and remembered his father’s final words: “In this martial world, the coldest thing isn’t a sword. It’s the human heart.”