The white-robed youth may have been swift but he was no match for Wen Leyang, Rangjung, and Po Tu. Upon launching their simultaneous attack, before the youth's body could even touch the surface of the ice, six large hands had grabbed onto him firmly.
Gu Xiaojun watched as the youth with unknown origins was caught. A small smile spread across his face but the three elites suddenly let out a cry of shock. A layer of white frost had rapidly spread from the youth's body and up their fingers. In a flash, their hands were frozen.
