Pain.
It surged like a tide through Ling Xuanye's limbs. His muscles convulsed. His veins flared with heat. In the darkness of the Infernal Hall, his body writhed beneath the grip of the blood threads.
The others still lay motionless, scattered like fallen stars across the cursed chamber. The red silk was tightening, slowly draining their Qi, pulsing like a parasitic heartbeat. The air hung heavy with rot and soul-deep silence.
And then—
A flicker.
A pulse from within Xuanye's chest. Gentle. Golden. Like the spark of an eternal flame trapped beneath ice.
It moved again.
The threads recoiled for a breath.
Inside the sea of his conscience, something stirred.
A voice—not a whisper, not a roar—but something older than thought.
"You bleed… yet you rise."
His mind shivered.
A thousand fragmented images danced before him—flashes of starlit battlefields, weeping skies, broken chains and shattered heavens. They weren't his. But they beat inside his blood like ancestral drums.
His spiritual core flared.
For a single instant, Xuanye opened his eyes.
And they burned like twin moons.
From the center of his chest, a pillar of white-gold light erupted, crashing against the ceiling of the Infernal Hall. It sliced through the mist, pierced the darkness, and set the red threads ablaze with pure flame.
The watcher above—its eye gleaming like a buried sun—flinched for the first time.
The light was not destructive.
It was cleansing.
Xuanye gasped for breath.
His wounds were healing. Slowly. His meridians began to realign. His Qi returned, flooding like a river freed of ice.
But deep inside, something ancient sighed.
The spirit within him had moved—too early. Its awakening delayed once again.
"That strength was not yours to wield… not yet."
Xuanye sat up, groaning as the residual mist burned from his skin. He looked around.
The others were still trapped. Chests barely rising.
And in the center—
Su Feilí.
She lay stillest of all. Pale. Unmoving. Her spiritual threads were the deepest red, soaked with her blood and memories.
"Feilí…" he whispered.
He stumbled toward her, dropping to his knees.
"Wake up."
He shook her gently.
Nothing.
"Come on… you're stronger than this."
Her lips were blue. Her body cold.
He placed his palm against her heart.
Still beating.
Barely.
Then—
A hiss behind him.
He spun.
The watcher dropped from the ceiling, tendrils like thorned ropes, each twitching with hunger. Its body was wrapped in white silk robes, but its face was blank—a mask of bone and stitched flesh.
Without a sound, it launched forward.
Xuanye rolled to the side. A claw scraped stone where he'd stood.
"Too close—"
He raised his palm and released a blast of Qi, driving the creature back. But it didn't flee.
It vanished into mist again.
Xuanye turned back to Feilí.
Time was dying.
He closed his eyes, focusing.
Spirit link.
They had formed it during their training—an emergency tether. He could reach her if the connection still held.
He channeled his spiritual energy into the bond between their cores.
"Feilí… let me in."
Within her dream, where sunlight painted the blossoms and her parents laughed beside her, a golden ripple formed in the air.
Feilí looked up.
Her fingers trembled.
The ripple became a doorway.
And through it, Ling Xuanye stepped, his robes torn, his eyes bloodshot, but smiling.
"You again…" she whispered.
He knelt before her.
"This isn't real."
"My parents—"
"Are gone."
She shook her head. "No."
He reached out.
"Do you remember what I said before? That I would drag you out of any pit, any hell, even if you hated me for it?"
Her lips quivered.
"You did say that…" she whispered.
The garden darkened.
Her parents stood slowly.
"Don't listen to him," her father said.
"He only brings pain," her mother added.
Xuanye raised his hand.
The air shimmered.
In a flash, memories erupted—Feilí's journey through Qingling, her fights, her laughter, her pain. Her duels. Their shared battles. The peach blossom tree from the training grounds. Her hand catching his when he almost fell from a cliff.
Every moment played in the sky like spirit paintings.
Her eyes filled with tears.
Her parents turned. Their faces cracked. Their hands became claws again.
"You belong here!"
Xuanye stepped between them.
"Then come back," he said gently.
"Or I'll keep shouting until the sky breaks."
Feilí smiled. Her hand closed around his.
And together—
They shattered the illusion.
Back in the hall, her body jolted.
She coughed violently—blood spilled from her lips. Her eyes fluttered open.
"Xuanye…" she rasped.
"I'm here."
She tried to sit, failed. Her limbs trembled.
"They took… too much. My Qi… almost gone."
He held her upright.
"I'll find the others," he said.
She nodded.
"I'll stay here… hold the door open."
Her eyes dimmed again.
Not in fear.
But in strength.
To be continued...