One person: Starting with the Snow Drinking Blade

Chapter 334 Ice vs. Ninja Sword 1

The suited-up elite looked at the elderly man from the country of cherry blossoms.

An elderly man in a kimono (servant) stepped forward.

Smile.

The smile was subtle, like ripples spreading across the surface of water. But it contained a wealth of emotions—confidence, composure, and a hint of anticipation, like "it's finally my turn."

He said in fluent English:

"In this match, I personally witnessed the superior skills of your country."

He had always kept a low profile—standing behind the old man with the knife, like a follower, like an inconspicuous henchman. He didn't speak much, made few movements, and his presence was so low that it was almost negligible.

Standing there now, he possessed an air of profound composure and unwavering strength. He stood there like an old pine tree, its roots firmly planted in the earth, unmoved by the wind. Although his hair was completely white and his stature was not tall, his calmness, his composure, and the confidence that emanated from his very being commanded respect.

They are clearly not people to be trifled with.

The man in the suit and the woman with the gold-rimmed glasses exchanged a glance.

That glance was very brief—less than half a second.

But the tacit understanding between the two was clearly not something that had developed overnight; a single glance conveyed a wealth of information. The woman with the wire-rimmed glasses understood the meaning behind the suited man's words: "You're the only one who can go. Be careful, don't push yourself."

The woman with the gold-rimmed glasses nodded.

Take a step forward.

Take off your glasses.

He revealed a pair of icy blue eyes that seemed devoid of any emotion.

The moment she took off her glasses, her entire demeanor changed—before, with glasses on, she resembled a capable secretary, shrewd but not particularly outstanding. Now, without her glasses, her icy blue eyes were like two unmelting blocks of ice, chilling to the bone.

The surrounding temperature suddenly dropped.

It's not a description.

It has really declined.

The air around her seemed frozen, condensing into tiny ice crystals. These ice crystals danced slowly around her, like a miniature blizzard, refracting tiny points of light under the stark white light of the emergency lights.

"Eagle Nation, 'Freedom Vanguard,' Catherine Frost, please advise."

Her voice was cold and clear. Catherine Frost, codenamed "Frost Witch," was a senior member of the Eagle Nation's "Freedom Vanguard," skilled in manipulating low temperatures and frost. The moment she removed her glasses, her entire demeanor changed abruptly—from a calm and intellectual researcher to an ice queen exuding a chilling aura. Her icy blue eyes were devoid of any emotion, simply gazing calmly at the kind-looking elderly man from the Sakura Kingdom dressed in a kimono.

She casually tossed her glasses into her suit pocket, a movement so light yet so ceremonial. It was as if, in taking off her glasses, she had also shed all pretense.

The surrounding temperature was dropping at a visible rate. A thin layer of white frost was slowly spreading across the concrete ground beneath her feet, as if something unseen was seeping out of her body, freezing everything in its path.

"The Frost Master? I've heard so much about you."

The elderly man in the kimono—or rather, the ninja master disguised as a servant—bowed slightly with a faint, seemingly harmless smile. The smile seemed sculpted, revealing just the right amount of six teeth, neither overtly warm nor cold.

"I am Fujiwara Sousuke, a member of the Koga school. Nice to meet you."

The name he uttered caused the elderly sword-wielding man from the Sakura Kingdom—Sato Ittosai—to nod slightly, a hint of approval flashing in his eyes. Clearly, this "Fujiwara Sousuke" held a position in the Sakura Kingdom's world of supernatural beings that was no less than that of Hattori Senzo of the Iga school.

Fujiwara Sousuke. In the world of supernatural beings in Japan, this name means three words: immortality. It is said that in his youth, during a mission, he was surrounded by seven masters, suffering thirty-seven stab wounds, yet he still managed to kill all his opponents despite his crippled state. Since then, he has rarely been injured—because most of those who witnessed his prowess are no longer alive.

Catherine did not respond to the other party's polite remarks.

She simply clasped her hands together in front of her chest, fingers touching, leaving a fist's width between her palms. Moisture in the air condensed at a visible speed, forming a constantly spinning ice crystal core in her palms, radiating a chilling aura. The ice crystal initially appeared to be only the size of a grain of rice, then rapidly expanded to the size of a billiard ball, and then to the size of a fist, its rotation accelerating and emitting a low, buzzing sound.

The surrounding temperature plummeted again. The bloodstains scattered on the ground began to condense into red frost, and water vapor in the air condensed into tiny ice crystals, refracting into sparkling light under the emergency lights. Several people nearby involuntarily shivered; some rubbed their arms, while others shrank their necks.

"please."

Sousuke Fujiwara maintained his smile.

He didn't even adopt any defensive or offensive stance; he simply stood there casually, his hands tucked into the wide sleeves of his kimono, his body slightly leaning forward, like an elderly gentleman attending a tea party, politely waiting for the lady to go first.

But those who know him well know that this is Fujiwara Sousuke's most dangerous state. His hands, tucked into his sleeves, could form a deadly hand seal at any moment; his seemingly relaxed body, every muscle is on the verge of exploding; his narrowed eyes have actually taken in every detail of his opponent's movements—the frequency of breathing, the height of the center of gravity, the direction of the flow of Qi.

However, just as the ice crystal core in Catherine's palm reached its maximum spin and was about to explode—

Fujiwara Sousuke moved.

No, to be precise, it was his figure that rippled in place like water, becoming blurry, like something seen through a layer of heat, distorted, swaying, and then—

Disappeared!

The real Sousuke Fujiwara had already appeared like a ghost, three steps away from Catherine.

No one saw how he moved. There were no footsteps, no whooshing sounds, not even a ripple in the air. He appeared there so abruptly, as if he had always been there, only previously obscured by something.

The wide sleeves of his kimono slipped silently down, revealing two thin, calloused hands with unusually large knuckles. The calluses were layered upon layered, like layers of dead skin piled up, each layer a mark left by years of arduous practice. His fingers were half a length longer than normal, with prominent knuckles, resembling five withered branches.

His movements seemed slow, even somewhat sluggish—like an old man doing morning exercises—but precisely at the moment when Catherine's ice-type abilities were poised to be unleashed and her mental energy was highly concentrated, he accurately cut into her blind spot!

His timing was impeccable. A second earlier, and Catherine's power wasn't fully charged, she would have turned to attack without hesitation; a second later, and Catherine's power would have exploded, making his charge suicidal. But he chose that exact moment, when her power was almost fully charged, neither advancing nor retreating—like a master strategist placing a piece on the center of a board, leaving his opponent in a dilemma.

"Ninja Technique: Hazy Clone."

He uttered a few syllables, his voice so soft it was almost like talking to himself. His hands emerged from his sleeves, forming a simple yet profound hand seal in front of his chest—thumbs touching, index fingers interlocked, and the other three fingers spread out, resembling a half-open flower.

next moment.

His figure split in two, then in four, and in the blink of an eye, four identical "Fujiwara Sousuke" appeared around Catherine, surrounding her in the middle!

The four figures moved in perfect unison, their breaths catching in sync, even their gazes mirroring each other. Each was smiling, each was bowing slightly, and each had their hands tucked into their sleeves. Their breathing was synchronized, their heartbeats were synchronized, and even the direction in which the hems of their garments fluttered was exactly the same.

It's hard to tell if it's real or fake!

"Clone technique? A child's play."

Catherine snorted coldly. A glint flashed in her icy blue eyes—not a reflection, but light emanating from the depths of her pupils, like two unburning flames of ice.

The ice crystal core in her palm suddenly exploded!

Instead of bursting outwards, it rapidly contracted inwards—the fist-sized ice crystal was compressed to the size of a fingernail in an instant, emitting a piercing "crunching" sound, as if something was being squeezed by a tremendous force—then, from her center, countless extremely sharp ice spikes shot out in all directions!

"Ice Crystal Storm!"

The icicles were densely packed, blotting out the sun. Each one was as thick as a chopstick, with a sharp, needle-like tip and a smooth, mirror-like surface that reflected a chilling light under the lamplight. They covered every angle, attacking indiscriminately, like a deathly rain of hail and blades!

"Swish, swish, swish——"

The sound of something tearing through the air was sharp and piercing, as if something was tearing tiny slits in the air.

"Puff puff puff puff!"

The three "Fujiwara Sousuke" figures were struck by the ice spikes and shattered like bubbles with a "poof"—completely disappearing without a trace, as if they had never existed. They were indeed phantom clones.

But the fourth figure moved just as the ice spike was about to hit it.

He slid three feet backward like a ghost—not turning and running, not dodging to the side, but sliding backward perpendicularly to the ground, as if he had wheels under his feet. The gliding motion was small, but the speed was astonishing, perfectly avoiding the range of all the ice spikes, without even the hem of his clothes being grazed.

The icicles were driven into the ground in front of him, forming a row like a neat white fence, their ends still trembling slightly.

The only one left, "Sousuke Fujiwara"—the one who avoided the ice spike storm—did not stop.

He didn't take the opportunity to approach Catherine—that would have been most people's instinctive reaction—but Fujiwara Sousuke knew that Catherine had just unleashed a wide-range attack, and the chill emanating from her body hadn't dissipated yet; approaching rashly would only result in frostbite. Instead, he rapidly formed hand seals, his ten fingers flying so fast they were just afterimages, before slamming his hands down onto the ground!

"Ninja Art: Earth Release: Rock Pillar Spear!"

"Boom! Boom! Boom!"

The concrete ground beneath Catherine's feet suddenly burst open!

Instead of bursting forth from the ground beside her, they simultaneously exploded within a half-meter radius beneath her feet. Three rock spears, each as thick as an adult's arm and with sharp, spear-like tips, emerged from the ground in a triangular formation, whistling as they viciously pierced towards her lower body!

Each rock spear had a rough, uneven surface, covered in dirt and debris, but its tips were sharpened to an exceptionally fine point, gleaming with a cold, white sheen under the light. The three rock spears were precisely aimed at her right ankle, one at the front of her calf, and the last one, at an even more cunning angle, was aimed directly at her knee.

The attack came extremely suddenly, originating from underground, silently, without any warning until the very last second before it broke through the ground. If Catherine hadn't maintained a high level of vigilance—her mental energy covering every inch of the ground within a five-meter radius around her like a spider web—she probably would have been hit.

But she reacted even faster.

Almost the instant the rock spear pierced the ground, a chill surged beneath Catherine's feet. She didn't retreat—retreating would mean crashing into the rock spear behind her—nor did she jump—jumping would leave her lower body wide open. Instead, she stomped her left foot hard on the ground!

"Ice Wall!"

A thick ice wall instantly rose from the ground!

No, it didn't "rise from the ground." It spread, accumulated, and solidified from the soles of her feet outwards, as if something was growing rapidly on the ground. Layer upon layer of ice, from transparent to translucent, then to milky white, formed in the blink of an eye a curved ice wall three feet high, two feet wide, and more than a palm's width thick, perfectly positioned in front of her.

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

Three long rock spears slammed into the ice wall with a dull thud.

The first rock spear struck, leaving a thin crack on the surface of the ice wall. The second rock spear struck the same spot, and the crack spread outwards like a spider web. The third rock spear—the thickest one—slammed into the center of the ice wall with all its might.

"Click—"

The ice wall was suddenly covered with dense cracks, like a shattered glass window, which could collapse at any moment.

But in the end, it was blocked.

The momentum of the three rock spears was halted by the ice wall, sending shards of rock and ice flying everywhere, crashing to the ground with a crackling sound. Although the ice wall was teetering on the brink of collapse, it still stood firmly in place, like a heavily wounded warrior who refused to fall.

however.

Fujiwara Sousuke's attack was not over.

Even as the ice wall blocked the rock spear, he had already moved. Not towards Catherine—that route was littered with ice shards and rocks, which would affect his speed and stealth—but towards… the limp, giant corpse beside him!

With a sway, he seemed to be sucked into something, and he actually "merged" into the shadow of the giant's dark and rough keratin layer!

Disappear.

It's not a metaphor.

It's really gone.