On the way to the source of the sound, he encountered two more attacks by snowmen.
But they were insignificant, those bizarre beings couldn't even stop him for a second.
Within just a few minutes, Lin Xin arrived at a spacious plaza from where the sound emanated.
In the center of the plaza, there was a frozen fountain piled with snow, and on a twisted statue within it hung a young cultivator in a green robe.
"A person from Green Lake Mountain!?" Lin Xin glanced at him, his heart startled.
The cultivator was a young man, his eyes wide open, blood flowing from his nose and mouth, already dried up, seeming unwilling to accept his death.
The body was entirely held up by a hand extended from the statue and had been frozen solid by the harsh winter, unmoving.
Lin Xin approached, and with a flash of his Sword Shadow, the body suddenly fell from the arm, crashing onto the snowy ground.
He then proceeded to carefully inspect it.
