After a thousand years of cultivation, he returns at the pinnacle!

Early morning, in the northern suburbs of the capital.

Shen Wanshan stood on the open ground in front of the abandoned mine with more than twenty elite members of the Shen family. The guards behind him chatted in twos and threes, and some were even yawning.

"Sir, the intelligence says there are forty or fifty here?" Shen Hu glanced at the dark mine shaft, his tone full of impatience. "Is this little bit of stuff worth the trip?"

Shen Wanshan ignored him and waved his hand behind him.

"A swift and decisive victory."

Before the words were even finished, a pack of Shadow Wolves and Ironback Bears surged out of the mine, a dense, dark mass of at least thirty or forty. The lead Ironback Bear was exceptionally large, already approaching the C-rank, and roared as it charged towards the group.

Shen Hu finally made a move.

He took a step forward, his muscles bulging, and slammed his fist into the ground. The ground cracked, and the shockwave, carrying debris, swept forward, sending the dozen or so Shadow Wolves at the forefront flying, crashing into the rock face and breaking their bones.

At the same time, the other guards of the Shen family also joined the attack. Flames, lightning, and wind blades intertwined to form a net of death, enveloping the entire entrance to the mine.

The whole process took less than twenty seconds.

Finally, the near-C-grade Ironback Bear tried to turn and run away, but Shen Hu caught up with it in two steps, smashed its head with a punch, and its massive body crashed to the ground.

The battlefield fell silent.

Shen Hu shook the blood off his fist and turned to look at Shen Wanshan: "Master, it's over."

Shen Wanshan nodded, about to say something, when the communicator on his waist rang.

"Patriarch Shen?" The voice on the other end belonged to Zhao Tiangang, the patriarch of the Zhao family, tinged with amusement. "How's it going on your end?"

"All cleared out," Shen Wanshan said calmly. "Forty or fifty of them, utterly vulnerable. What about you?"

"Hahaha, same here!" Zhao Tiangang's laughter came through the communicator. "There are only about thirty in the east of the city, and my second son took them all by himself. Is it really worth making such a fuss over such a small amount?"

Another voice came through the communication channel; it was Zhou Boyong from the Zhou family: "The same goes for the west side of the city. A dozen or so Shadow Wolves, and they were all gone before I even had a chance to make a move. What kind of 'monster gathering' is this?"

"What about the south of the city?" Shen Wanshan asked.

"The south side of the city is the quietest," Wu Shichang from the Wu family chimed in. "Not a single one. My men have been squatting here all morning, and they haven't even seen a single wolf hair."

A light laugh rang out over the communication channel.

"Alright, alright, everyone go home," Zhao Tiangang said with a smile. "Have the intelligence team keep an eye on things. It's probably just a small-scale migration in the mountains to the north. Nothing to be alarmed about."

"That's enough, that's enough." Zhou Boyong yawned. "I was thinking of stretching my old bones, but I didn't even break a sweat."

The communicator is off.

Shen Wanshan put away his communicator and turned to tell everyone to retreat. Shen Qingxue stood behind her father, looking at the scattered monster corpses on the ground, feeling that something was not quite right.

There were over forty monsters, not too many, not too few. But their movements were remarkably synchronized—they surged out together, charged together, as if driven by something.

"Dad," she began, "don't you think these monsters—"

Before he could finish speaking, the weather changed.

There were no signs whatsoever.

The sky above darkened in an instant, not in the way that dark clouds obscure the sun, but in a deeper darkness, as if something had swallowed up the light itself.

Everyone looked up at the same time.

Countless black ice flowers are slowly falling from the sky.

The ice flowers were crystal clear, yet as black as ink, reflecting no light whatsoever. They fell silently from the clouds, like some ancient and chilling omen.

A piece of ice flower fell into Shen Qingxue's palm.

A bone-chilling cold instantly swept through her body. It wasn't ordinary cold, but a power surging from the depths of her soul, seemingly capable of freezing all life. The ice-type spiritual energy within her surged wildly at that moment, as if encountering some higher-level being, instinctively feeling fear.

"This is……"

Shen Wanshan's voice abruptly stopped.

His face turned deathly pale in an instant, and for the first time, a genuine sense of gravity appeared in his eyes, which had witnessed countless battles.

It's not vigilance, it's not tension.

It is solemn.

This is the kind of reaction that only an awakened being of his level would have when faced with a real threat.

The communication channel erupted in chaos.

"What's going on?! What are these ice flowers?!"

"Why is it so dark?! Is it like this where you are too?!"

"Patriarch Shen! Patriarch Zhao! What is this—"

Zhao Tiangang's voice came through the communicator, his previous ease gone: "Shen Wanshan, did you see that?"

"I saw it."

"What the hell is this thing?"

Shen Wanshan did not answer.

He stood on the empty wasteland, looking up at the dark sky and the black ice flowers falling silently.

Three hundred years ago, when the apostles descended to earth, there were ice flowers just like these.

History records it clearly—ice flowers from hell fell from the sky, covering the entire continent. It was a sign of the apostles' arrival, the beginning of the darkest era in human history.

Now, three hundred years later, these ice flowers have reappeared.

"Everyone," Shen Wanshan's voice was low and hoarse, yet clearly heard by everyone present, "Return to the manor immediately. Level one alert."

No one questioned the order.

Shen Hu's expression changed, and the other guards realized what was happening as well. Although they were young and had not experienced the catastrophe of three hundred years ago, they had read every word in the history books.

Black ice flowers.

A sign of the apostle's coming.

Shen Qingxue stood rooted to the spot, the ice flower on her palm had melted, but the chill had seeped into her very bones, lingering for a long time. She looked down at her palm, and what came to mind was not the records in historical books, but a person's face.

Jiang Chen.

She didn't know why she thought of him at this moment. Perhaps it was because the chill she felt was so much like the indifference in his eyes, or perhaps it was because she instinctively felt that if anyone in this world could handle something like this, it would be him.

"Qingxue!" Shen Wanshan's voice pulled her back to reality. "Let's go!"

Shen Qingxue took a deep breath to suppress the chill and turned to catch up with the group.

Behind them, black ice flowers continued to fall silently, covering the entire wasteland, the corpses of the monsters, and the battlefield that had just been filled with a relaxed atmosphere.

The sky darkened completely.

In the distance, the outline of the capital city loomed in the darkness, like a sleeping giant awakened by this sudden strange phenomenon.

In that instant, a fear that seemed to have come from three hundred years ago lingered in the hearts of the scions of noble families.

The arrival of the apostles was a story that existed only in history for everyone present, but now it seemed to be happening right next to them.