Chen Xun was enjoying some roasted wolf meat when a group of sect disciples approached with a rustling sound. There were fifteen of them, all with unfriendly expressions.

"Fellow cultivator, are you aware that the many ice snow white wolves you killed were raised by our sect?"

The leading female disciple, Yang Qing, spoke coldly.

The other disciples glared at Chen Xun with hatred, but none of them noticed a strange phenomenon: as they approached Chen Xun, the wind and snow around them stopped.