"Sister, just lie down and don't move. I'll go out to find daddy and I'll be back in the evening."

"Brother, be careful."

The girl curled up and whispered like a mosquito.

The boy looked at the empty house and could only add a piece of rags to his sister, then walked out of the house carrying a hatchet.

Heavy snow is flying in the sky.

The entire village was covered in snow.

The doors and windows of every house were closed, and they looked lifeless.

Before winter came, several immortal cultivators came here. For some unknown reason, they used immortal magic to burn all the mountains and forests within a hundred miles.

Not even the crops grown by the people in the village were left, and several villagers who tried to avoid it were even burned to death.

However, no one cares.

The immortals were talking and laughing as they flew over the village, paying no attention to the changes in fate of mortals like them.

The little boy remembered the scene that day and clenched his fists tightly.

Because his mother was burned to death in that fire.

He hates immortal cultivators.

But if he wants to take revenge, he must first become an immortal cultivator, otherwise he won't even be able to get close to them.

It is said that to become an immortal cultivator, you need to have spiritual roots.

The little boy doesn't know if he has it, but he has been itching between his eyebrows since he was a child, so there must be something special about it.

"I wonder if there are any techniques in this world that mortals can practice. If all mortals could practice them, immortal cultivators wouldn't be so arrogant."

The little boy walked forward in the snow with one foot deep and one foot shallow.

Suddenly, his figure froze.
Chapter completed!