Comfort and warmth can weaken a person's willpower; only through struggle in pain and suffering can one continuously temper their will and always maintain a heart striving upward.

"Is it still going to fail?"

The White-haired Elder frowned, his gaze piercing through everything, right to the essence.

Although Lin Mo's Soul Fire condensed further, he could clearly see that the Demon Cold Flame was already dominating, slowly corroding the Soul Fire...

"Alas."

The White-haired Elder shook his head, extending his right hand, with transparent cold energy swirling between his fingers. He was unwilling to see a child with such strong willpower fall in this place.

"Give you another hundred years, and you will surely be able to conquer the Demon Cold Flame."

"Uh..."

Just as the White-haired Elder was about to rescue Lin Mo from the Demon Cold Flame, he suddenly witnessed a shocking scene.

"This guy is too crazy!"

Within the Lotus Ice Platform, two entangled flames sought to devour each other, but suddenly Lin Mo's Soul Fire burst apart, completely merging into the Demon Cold Flame.

Cold!

Pain!

Heart-wrenching, unbearable agony.

The shattered Flexible Fire merged with the Demon Cold Flame, and its cold energy kept devouring the Soul Fire. Gradually, the dark red flame almost completely disappeared.

"Why bother? In just a hundred years, perhaps less, when you return, you could have conquered the Demon Cold Flame."

The White-haired Elder frowned, shaking his head helplessly.

Yet at the same time, he noticed a faint dark red glow within the cold blue light of the Demon Cold Flame.

"Fusion?"

"It actually fused?"

"Has the Demon Cold Flame become his soul?"

"Crunch!"

The ice shards freezing Lin Mo's entire body cracked with irregular lines, then pieces of ice broke off and fell to the ground, resembling shattered gems everywhere.

"What a close call! Had I not gambled everything at the last moment, I might truly have been unable to conquer it."

Lin Mo smiled, laying spread out on the transparent Lotus Ice Platform, completely lacking even the strength to move his little finger. After fighting the Demon Cold Flame for so long, he had nearly exhausted all his heart and squeezed out all his potential.

His body and soul were utterly weary.

"Kid, you truly make me see you in a new light, haha!"

The White-haired Elder floated over in a cloud of White Fog, appearing next to Lin Mo, his hand stroking his long white beard under his chin, while a satisfied smile spread across his face, nodding repeatedly.

"I don't even want to say another word now."

Lin Mo spoke weakly.

"You've fought the Demon Cold Flame for a full two years, it's only natural to be tired. Congratulations on obtaining the Demon Cold Flame. Young one, keep striving; there's plenty of good things waiting for you."

The White-haired Elder said, his figure becoming increasingly transparent before slowly dissipating into the heavens and earth.

"Kid, this was just a remnant of my will. Now that my task is complete, I must leave! Rest well here; no one can intrude."

"Senior..."

Lin Mo widened his eyes, watching helplessly as the White-haired Elder vanished before him, powerless. Indeed, that was a remnant of the Big Shot's will, waiting here for someone to conquer the Demon Cold Flame.

"Thank you." After saying these last two words, Lin Mo closed his eyes to rest.

Two years ago, on the European Ocean Plate, an island suddenly arose from the seabed, measuring approximately two hundred kilometers at its longest edge, shrouded year-round in swirling Black Fog.

Major nations quickly dispatched their top forces to the island to investigate, suspecting it to be an ancient ruin. The ocean region where the island appeared belonged to a small country.

Faced with personnel from various major nations, along with coveting cultivator factions, this small country had no courage to claim the island for itself.

Over the past two years, cultivators have continuously flown to explore the island from above.

"Is this the mysterious island?"

"The Black Fog swirls, never fading all year round."

"There must be heavy treasure inside."

A group of foreigners stood a thousand meters in the sky over the island, overlooking the boundless ocean with the mysterious island bobbing in its midst.

"Bo Ze, why don't we go down and take a look?"

"Go down to our deaths?"

Two men in black robes, their bodies concealed within darkness, conversed.

"In the past two years, who knows how many cultivation experts have entered this island, and in the end? None could come out. With just our strength, do you really think we can get the treasure inside?" One of them shook his head, feeling quite helpless.

"Alas, we can only look, unable to go in and investigate."

The other lowered his head, sighing.

Such occurrences happened almost daily over the island, but most merely watched for a bit before leaving.

Two years ago, this island appeared, enticing countless strong individuals, many of whom delved deep within, hoping to uncover the island's treasures. Unfortunately, not a single person who entered ever emerged again.

This led to the mysterious island, despite being coveted, becoming a place no one dared venture deeper into, and it was given a name: Death Island.

In the distant sky, numerous piercing White Lights appeared, approximately dozens of them. Initially at the horizon's edge, in a mere instant, they reached above the island.

"Sir, the Ninth Prince has already been in Death God Island for two years!"

These individuals wore pure white suits, exuding a faint holy radiance, providing an intangible suppression, inducing a subconscious urge to worship.

"Two years should be enough; go in now, don't let him obtain the Ghostly Compassionate Netherfire."

One middle-aged man with Four Wings on his back spoke.

"Yes!"

Swish, swish, swish...

Several streams of white light plunged towards the island like blazing white meteors.

…

On the island, lush greenery abounded, with even some small mountains standing tall, shrouded by cloud-like Black Fog overhead. The entire island had an eerie and mysterious feel.

In the heart of the island stood the tallest mountain.

This towering mountain rose about eight hundred meters high, making it the island's highest peak. Strangely, the top of this mountain was bare, devoid of plants or animals.

At the peak stood numerous black figures, their expressions exceedingly cold, dressed in black suits, extending two black wings behind them—each wing sharp like a blade.

Among them were even two men with Four Wings, whose aura was far stronger than those with two wings around them.

"It's been two years; will the Ninth Prince succeed in obtaining the Ghostly Compassionate Netherfire?"

One man with Four Wings spoke softly.

"The Ninth Prince's Talent is exceptional and he possesses the purest Fallen Angel bloodline; he will surely obtain the Ghostly Compassionate Netherfire." The other Four Wings man showed unwavering conviction.

"But this past year has been rather dull; it seems people already know that coming to this island leads only to death, so no one has ventured in anymore."

"Haha, with us guarding here, who dares to enter?"

As they conversed quietly, a Netherworld Light Beam suddenly appeared in the mountain's middle, shooting straight into the sky, faintly emitting vast power.

Everyone was invigorated.

"The Ninth Prince is coming out!"

As the words settled, from the deep cavern within the mountain, a black light shot upward. The mountain breeze was slightly cool, and the black light paused in the air, revealing a youth with Four Black Wings, incredibly handsome—could even be described as demonic—standing in the sky. His worn suit couldn't detract from the noble aura enveloping him, a

n aura emanating from his blood, soul, bones, innate and deep-rooted.

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