Bubbles gently float upward, ice crystals grow vigorously, forming a dense forest of ice, where the armored Mysterious Turtle rests and sleeps, exhaling cold air that turns into frost.
"Brother Xiong, this thing looks fierce, can a few of us handle it?"
"What is there to fear? Being afraid means you're not a Huaiyin person; Martial Hall disciples are always courageous!" Xiong Yiheng tightened his belt, donned his armor, hefty and robust, scanning with his eyes, "Bin and I will attack head-on, the Wenwu brothers will support from the sides, Old Eagle shoots arrows, aim for the turtle's eyes, and take control, understood?"
"Understood!"
"Then I'll count to three." Xiong Yiheng extended three fingers, "One, two, three, charge!"
"Go!"
