Inside the mountains,
The Hazy figure stood silently, her eyes shining brightly as she observed the scene on the altar.
"I was not expecting to see a Heavenly Ice Divine Physique," she muttered.
"Does Heaven really care for me, or is this some fateful arrangement that I met with these ants to help me regain my former glory?" Her voice was hostile.
Suddenly, her gaze shifted to the naked woman who was lying on the ice slab. The woman's face was covered with sweat and her breathing was ragged, as if she was undergoing a tremendous battle.
"Don't struggle. It was for your own good," the hazy figure muttered, but she shifted her gaze back to the altar.
Millions of years of slumber had numbed her memory; she had forgotten many things, but the only thing she had not forgotten was the vengeance.
Her attention was now drawn to the middle-aged man who was lifting another man into the air.
"Why does he feel familiar?"
...
In the Upper World.