The hall was quiet.
Too quiet.
Blood threads still curled across the stone floor like faded veins, some now burnt away, others still pulsing faintly with life. Su Feilí leaned against a broken pillar, her breath ragged, skin pale as moonlight, but her gaze was steady.
At the center of the hall, Xuanye knelt beside the next body.
Shui Lin.
His best friend. The one who always walked a step behind without complaint. The one who never raised his voice, but always extended his hand.
Xuanye reached out.
"Your turn," he whispered.
He pressed his fingers to Lin's forehead and closed his eyes.
Within the Illusion Realm
Shui Lin still wandered the endless maze of mirrors.
Every step revealed a reflection—hundreds of versions of himself, each whispering doubts he had never dared speak aloud.
"You're always behind him." "You're not strong enough." "He will surpass you and forget your name." "You protect, but cannot win."
Shui Lin stopped before one mirror.
It showed him at age nine, watching Xuanye win a spar while he stood silently in the crowd.
Another showed him bleeding alone after a mission gone wrong—Xuanye never found him in time.
"I… don't blame him," Lin muttered. "But… why can't I keep up?"
He raised his hand to strike the mirror—but his strength failed.
And that's when he saw it.
In the central mirror—the largest—Xuanye was walking toward him.
Xuanye's Voice, Through Spirit Thread
"This place is lies," he said. "But I see the truth."
"Xuanye…?"
"You think you're weak. You think I don't see it."
The light around him burned golden-silver, not harsh, but warm. The mirrors began to crack one by one, their surfaces rippling like water.
"I'm not standing above you, Shui Lin. I've only ever stood because you were always behind me."
Shui Lin sank to his knees.
"I… couldn't protect you."
"You did," Xuanye said. "More times than I'll ever know."
The final mirror shattered.
Xuanye reached out a hand.
Shui Lin took it.
Back in the Infernal Hall
Shui Lin gasped awake—his eyes wide with shock. The red thread snapped like silk in fire, and steam hissed from his body as residual mist burned away.
He fell forward, coughing violently.
Xuanye caught him.
"You did it," Lin said weakly.
"You owe me three pots of spiritual wine."
They smiled.
But Shui Lin's Qi was nearly extinguished. His core flickered like a dying candle.
Xuanye placed both palms over his chest.
"I'll share mine."
Golden light flowed from Xuanye's hands into Shui Lin's meridians, stabilizing his dantian, repairing frayed Qi channels.
Su Feilí watched from across the hall, silent.
"Three awake," she said.
And then—
A breeze.
Cold. Sharp.
The smell of bone dust filled the air.
Xuanye stood. Eyes narrowing.
Shui Lin froze.
The light in the chamber dimmed.
From the ceiling's highest shadow, something stirred.
Not the golden eye this time.
A form stepped forward.
She was shrouded in black silks stitched with bone thread. Her feet made no sound. Her face… remained hidden beneath a veil of red smoke. Her presence was so heavy that the stone beneath her feet cracked.
Xuanye felt it instantly.
The same presence that had watched them from the start.
The demon thread-weaver had arrived.
She didn't speak.
But her intent screamed.
A clawed arm rose.
A spear of crimson light shot toward Xuanye.
He deflected it with a surge of Qi—but stumbled. His earlier healing had left him drained.
"You dare burn my domain," she whispered at last, her voice layered, as though multiple beings spoke at once.
"You will bleed for it."
Her second strike came faster.
And Chapter 15 ended in silence.
To be continued...