The followers of the Hundred Beast Hall and the demons left in great unrest.

By the time they sensed something was amiss, it was already too late.

The overcast heavens had turned as black as ink, and a vast flurry of goose feather snow began to fall, turning day into night without warning, with a cold moon illuminating all beneath it.

Under the moonlight, there seemed to be a figure, serene, beautiful, and cold.