Chapter 123: The Gate of Bitter Winter (Bonus Update 3/4)

After drifting in a daze for an indeterminate length of time, Qi Xiao suddenly felt a sharp, refreshing coolness flow down his throat. It was as pure as mountain spring water, carrying a faint sweetness. This chill rapidly spread throughout his body, dispelling the fog clouding his mind.

As the coolness coursed through him, Qi Xiao’s consciousness gradually cleared. He experienced an unprecedented sense of freshness and alertness; he could feel his soul being nourished, his awareness swiftly reviving.

The coolness seemed imbued with a potent vitality. Qi Xiao sensed his weary body awakening, every inch of his skin greedily absorbing this newfound energy.

His senses sharpened remarkably. He could hear the faint drip of water from an icicle, feel the subtle currents in the air, even discern distant whispers far beyond normal hearing.

His body felt extraordinarily light, as if he could drift with the wind. This sensation of his soul seeming to detach from his body, unbound and free, left him somewhat exhilarated.

“This must be some extremely rare spiritual water…”

Qi Xiao finally regained control over himself. His fingers trembled slightly before he suddenly opened his eyes wide and gasped—but only a hoarse sob escaped his throat, no words could be formed.

“Ugh… ugh? Ugh!”

“Alright, I just fed you the Forbidden Spirit Dew. You probably won’t be able to speak properly for the next couple of days. If you want to say something, you can write it out using your magic.”

Qi Xiao froze, pondering for a moment. He had nothing pressing to say and silently shook his head.

A witch dressed simply in plain clothes frowned as she asked, “What did you see when you entered? Or what did you hear? How did you suffer such a severe mental shock?”

Qi Xiao hesitated, unable to describe it. Using magic, he formed a few words: “Sorry, Lady Aurora, I’m not quite sure what happened.”

Seeing that the witch, Fulvi, wanted to press further, Eleanor spoke up with discontent, “My little sorcerer was attacked on your turf without cause. You won’t even investigate, and now you’re interrogating the victim?”

Fulvi hesitated briefly, then sighed softly. “We will take responsibility for this. All his medical expenses will be covered by us. After the ritual, he may enter the gate once.”

Eleanor’s expression remained tense, showing her displeasure until Fulvi’s last words softened her face into a smile. “If only you’d said so sooner. This is the kind of decisiveness expected from a great power with millennia of legacy. You honor Lord Winter’s reputation.”

Fulvi’s expression showed a hint of pain. Opening the gate even once was a costly price—even for her. This expense would have to be borne solely by their Frozen Sanctuary. After all, the Vault of All Spirits was not to be trifled with. Though the apprentice was insignificant, neither the Sound of the Mortal World nor the Shadow of the World were forces easily offended... But since this unfortunate event happened to coincide with their timing, they had no choice but to pay the price to avoid greater calamity.

Fortunately, it was only an apprentice. Even opening the Gate of Winter wouldn’t yield anything valuable. Had it been a full-fledged sorcerer, no such compensation would have been offered.

Since Fulvi’s arrival, Lorces had remained silent until now, when he finally spoke: “Since young Qi Xiao has awakened, let us return to our duties. Corent has been waiting long enough. It’s best to proceed with the ritual soon. Otherwise, who knows when the Gate of Winter will open again.”

No one objected. Qi Xiao lay on a soft blue-and-white cloth, held gently by Midir’s magic. Qi Xiao felt odd but was relieved no one was watching, easing his embarrassment. He remained still, closing his eyes as he read the books stored within his mental realm.

Soon, a familiar aura interrupted his reading. He abruptly opened his eyes and turned toward the source. The chaotic, flawed energy was unmistakably familiar—emanating from some mysterious artifact!

His gaze was quickly drawn to a door before him unlike any he had ever seen—undeniably a mystical object emitting an ancient and enigmatic aura, as if it were a portal to another world.

The Gate of Winter stood tall and wide, its frame composed of strange ice crystals that shimmered with rainbow hues under the light, like a dream.

Its surface was coated with a layer of eternal frost that never melted, within which ancient power seemed sealed. Even by merely looking, Qi Xiao could feel the biting cold.

The door was etched with intricate runes and patterns depicting winter scenes—vast frozen forests, snow-capped peaks, and snowflakes drifting in the biting wind.

Its deep indigo color resembled the winter night sky or the view of the sea surface from the ocean’s depths, imparting a serene yet mysterious feeling.

Flanking the gate stood two ice sculptures, guardians of the Gate of Winter. Their vigilant gazes seemed to scrutinize all who approached. Yet Qi Xiao sensed their aura was not innate but artificially crafted.

Beside the gate lay heaps of frost-related magical materials, none ordinary at first glance—a sight that silently alarmed Qi Xiao. But clearly this was insufficient. Midir, holding a staff—Qi Xiao’s own creation, the Emerald Snowstream—traced a circle in the air. Suddenly, vast quantities of magical materials erupted forth, most harvested from ice-elemental beasts.

A burly sorcerer emerged from behind the gate, wiping sweat from his brow. His stern visage instantly reminded Qi Xiao of many protagonists and heroes from stories he had read. This was clearly the last of the three formal sorcerers of the Frozen Sanctuary—the “Frost Radiance” sorcerer, Corent Puaris.

Corent made no sound but nodded respectfully to Midir, then arranged the extraordinary materials Midir had retrieved into a formation. Qi Xiao wondered—was this faction truly only composed of these three sorcerers? Where were the others? Not even an apprentice to command? Did the formal sorcerers have to do all the work themselves? If so, could this be called a faction rather than merely a group…

Qi Xiao’s mind brimmed with questions, but this was no time to ask. He resolved to inquire with his teacher later.

The atmosphere was peculiar. Four formal sorcerers and one apprentice lying on a cloth stretcher silently watched another sorcerer work. Yet Corent showed no embarrassment, pacing and arranging things with ease. None of the others made a move to assist. Even his celestial beloved, the Aurora Witch, watched quietly. Qi Xiao certainly would not volunteer either.