Shan Wei felt the thread twitch again.
It was thin, like a line of cold moonlight in the air. It did not look strong, but it carried a feeling he knew too well—quiet frost, clean sword intent, and a calm that could cut.
Ling Xueyao.
The name still glowed above the thread in pale light, like the tunnel was forced to admit it.
The monk's voice hissed from the walls.
"Stop."
Shan Wei did not stop.
He kept one hand on the bell nail. The other hand drew small prismatic glyphs in the air. He did not draw big, flashy signs. He drew simple shapes, the way a master writes a key.
A circle to hold the thread's path.
A line to trace its direction.
A small hook to catch hidden layers.
The thread answered his formation like a living thing. It pulled, and Shan Wei followed its pull with his eyes.
The tunnel tried to punish him again.
Time blades rose from the floor—white, sharp, quiet. They swept toward his wrists, aiming to make him let go.
Shan Wei's Fate Severance flashed.
He did not "fight" the blades like a normal cultivator.
He cut their timing.
One blade arrived too early and missed.
One blade arrived too late and missed.
Two blades collided with each other and shattered into pale dust.
The bells above trembled, angry and afraid at the same time.
Shan Wei tapped the nail again.
Dong.Pause.Dong-dong.
The release rhythm.
The nail turned a little more.
The thread of Ling Xueyao trembled harder, like a locked door hearing the right key.
Shan Wei felt a cold pressure roll through the tunnel.
Not from the monk.
From somewhere else.
From a place of frost and old pain.
A place buried deep in time.
His eyes narrowed.
Then the Silent Bell Rule Page in the air flickered again. The three control paths stayed bright:
NAME PIN.MEMORY LOOP.OATH BRAND.
But now the page revealed a hidden line, like ink showing under heat.
A single price clause.
It was short, cruel, and clear:
PRICE CLAUSE: FREE ONE CONSORT THREAD → COURT EXECUTION VOTE TRIGGERS IMMEDIATELY.
Shan Wei stared at it.
For one breath, the tunnel felt quiet, like it was waiting to see fear.
The monk's voice softened, pleased.
"There," it whispered. "Now you understand. Freedom costs blood."
Shan Wei's face stayed calm. But inside, his thoughts moved fast and sharp.
So this was how the Court and the Monastery worked together.
The Monastery pinned the bonds.
The Court watched the balance.
If Shan Wei freed even one thread, the Court would label him "unstable" and vote to execute him at once.
Not later.
Not "soon."
Immediately.
The monk's voice was gentle like a knife.
"You can still be safe," it said. "Agree. Let the lock stay. Let her sleep."
Shan Wei's eyes turned colder.
He spoke one simple line.
"I do not trade love for permission."
He raised his hand and cut the Rule Page.
Not the words.
The link behind it.
The page ripped like mist, but the price clause remained in his mind. He would not forget it.
He looked back at the frost thread.
It was pulling toward the left wall of the tunnel. The wall did not look special, but Shan Wei could see a faint seam now, like ice under snow.
He stepped closer, still holding the nail.
The tunnel tried to clamp time rings around his ankles again.
He used Heavenstep Flash in small steps, shifting just enough to keep his body free while his hand stayed steady.
He reached the wall seam and pressed a prismatic glyph onto it.
The seam glowed.
Then the wall shuddered.
A slab of pale bell metal slid aside like a door opening in silence.
Behind it was not another stage.
It was a corridor of deep frost.
The air spilled out, cold and clean, carrying a scent like snow and old stone.
At the end of the corridor stood a door made of ice.
On the door was a carving of an ice phoenix.
And below it were three words, burned into the ice like a scar:
ICE PHOENIX TOMB.
Shan Wei's heart struck once in his chest. Not with panic.
With recognition.
This was not random.
This was connected to Xueyao's past, her clan, and the prophecy that had followed her like a shadow.
The monk's voice turned sharp with real anger.
"No," it said. "Do not open that."
Shan Wei did not answer.
He listened.
Because the frost thread was trembling like a string pulled tight.
And then he heard it.
A voice.
Cold, familiar, and calm like moonlight on a sword edge.
It came through the thread, weak at first, like a whisper in a storm.
"Shan Wei…"
His eyes widened a little, just a little.
The voice continued, steady and serious.
"Say my name."
The words hit the tunnel like a bell strike.
The bells above shook.
The monk's voice snapped.
"Do not speak!"
Shan Wei's gaze stayed fixed on the ice door.
He spoke quietly, like a vow.
"Ling Xueyao."
The moment he said it, the frost thread flared.
A thin moon line of sword intent cut across the corridor and touched the ice phoenix door.
The door trembled.
A layer of ice fell away like dust.
Shan Wei felt something else too.
Not just a bond.
A pain.
A long, locked pain that had been frozen for many cycles.
He breathed once.
"Xueyao," he said softly. "Are you awake?"
The voice came back, sharper now, like a blade waking up.
"I am not asleep," she said. "I am pinned."
Shan Wei's hand tightened on the nail.
The monk's voice hissed.
"You are breaking the balance!"
Shan Wei replied calmly.
"You stole the balance first."
He turned the bell nail another small click with the release rhythm.
Dong.Pause.Dong-dong.
The Moon Lock screamed again, but Shan Wei redirected the pressure into his own prismatic anchor ring.
Pain hit his chest like a heavy weight.
But he held it.
Because outside the tunnel, others were also holding for him.
The Refuge Tunnel lane kept rolling forward like a moving fortress road.
Zhen's Third Layer shield gates were still shifting, turning the lane into a maze that trapped enemies inside short corridors.
Assassins slammed against the gates, angry and silent.
Yuerin ran near the front, dragging the Pavilion leader by a shadow chain. Her eyes were cold and focused.
"Open it," she said again. "The real entrance."
The Pavilion leader's mask twitched.
"You don't trust me," the leader said.
Yuerin pulled the chain harder.
"I trust pain," she replied. "Now move."
The leader laughed softly.
"Fine," it said. "But don't blink."
It raised one finger and drew a black clause in the air, like writing on the world:
VAULT ROAD: TRUE MOUTH OPENS WHEN THE ROAD FORGETS ITSELF.
Yuerin's eyes narrowed.
"What does that even mean?" she snapped.
Zhen answered at once, too literal and too fast.
"IT MEANS: WE MUST CONFUSE THE ROAD."
Yuerin glared.
"That's not helpful."
Zhen replied, calm.
"CONFUSION CAN BE BUILT."
Then he did something only Zhen would do.
He shifted the shield gates in a sudden pattern—left, right, left, pause, then forward—like a moving puzzle.
The road's formation lines flickered.
For one breath, the space ahead "forgot" where it was supposed to be.
A crack appeared in the air, shaped like a doorway.
Inside the crack was a faint golden glow.
Yuerin felt it at once.
"The Conclave," she whispered.
The Pavilion leader's mask smiled.
"That's the mouth," it said.
Yuerin tightened her grip.
"Good," she said. "Now you stay alive."
The leader chuckled.
"That sounded like a threat."
"It is," Yuerin said.
Behind them, Xuan Chi stumbled.
Her Lunar Frost Domain was still active, but it was cracked at the edges. Frost scars covered the ground like pale glass wounds. Her breathing was rough.
Then she suddenly gasped.
She grabbed her chest like a rope had yanked her heart.
Yuerin caught her shoulder.
"What?" Yuerin demanded.
Xuan Chi's eyes were wide.
"He's… carrying it," she whispered. "But the lock is angry."
Above them, a Court pressure stamp formed again in the sky.
A single word.
Not the same as before.
This time it was:
SEIZE.
Like a command to take everything.
The word was not aimed at Yuerin.
It was aimed at Drakonix.
Drakonix stirred.
For the first time in a while, his eyes opened longer than one breath.
His half-formed wing trembled, then lifted slightly.
A weak prismatic flame crawled across his mouth.
He breathed out.
A small ember touched the word SEIZE.
The word burned.
It did not fight back.
It simply failed and turned to ash.
Yuerin's eyes flashed.
"Again," she breathed.
Zhen's voice came, blunt and proud.
"SECOND COURT WORD DESTROYED."
Then he added, as if making a report for history:
"THIS IS NOT LUCK."
Yuerin didn't smile, but her voice turned hard with hope.
"Good," she said. "Then we keep moving."
But danger did not stop.
Because one of the "allies" inside the lane moved strangely.
A man who had been "rescued" earlier. Quiet. Helpful. Head lowered.
Now his hand slid under his robe.
A thin blade appeared.
It had no shine.
No sound.
It was aimed at Xuan Chi's back.
Yuerin's eyes snapped to him at the last second.
A traitor.
A hidden assassin.
The assassin lunged.
Yuerin's shadow snapped like a whip.
It wrapped around his wrist and twisted, forcing the blade to miss by inches.
The assassin's eyes were calm, too calm.
He whispered one clause word.
"NO—"
Before he could finish, Drakonix's weak flame flickered again, as if it hated that sound now.
The word burned in the assassin's mouth.
The assassin gagged.
Yuerin slammed him into a shield gate.
Zhen shifted the gate closed like a jaw.
The assassin was trapped inside a short corridor alone.
Zhen spoke in his blunt way.
"TRAITOR IDENTIFIED."
Then he added, very seriously:
"TRAITORS ARE BAD."
Yuerin snapped, still holding Xuan Chi.
"Yes," she said. "We know."
Zhen replied, calm.
"CONFIRMED."
The Conclave mouth crack in the air widened.
Golden light spilled out like a hidden vault breathing open.
Yuerin dragged the Pavilion leader toward it.
"Move," she said.
The leader's mask tilted.
"You're going in," it said. "That means you want treasure."
Yuerin's eyes went flat and cold.
"I want answers," she said. "Treasure is just a tool."
Xuan Chi's breath shook.
"And Shan Wei?" she whispered.
Yuerin's voice softened by one tiny degree.
"He will come out," she said. "He always does."
Inside the Silent Bell tunnel, Shan Wei stood before the Ice Phoenix Tomb door.
The frost thread was bright now, like a moon line connected to his heart.
Xueyao's voice came again through it.
"They used my clan," she said. "They froze my prophecy into a chain."
Shan Wei's voice stayed calm.
"Tell me what you see," he said.
Xueyao's voice was steady, but there was anger under it, cold and sharp.
"I see nails," she said. "Many nails. Six threads pinned. One frost node pinned. A bell throne above it all."
Shan Wei's eyes narrowed.
"The Moon-Masked Girl," he said.
"Yes," Xueyao answered. "She is not only a person. She is a role. A crown made to obey."
Shan Wei looked at the ice door.
"Xuan Chi," he said quietly.
Xueyao's voice paused for a breath.
Then she said, calm but heavy:
"Save her."
Shan Wei's jaw tightened slightly.
"I will," he said.
The monk's voice screamed now, losing its calm mask.
"YOU WILL TRIGGER THE COURT!"
Shan Wei answered, cold and simple.
"Let them vote."
He lifted his hand and placed it on the ice phoenix door.
He did not push with brute force.
He drew a prismatic key glyph, then pressed the release rhythm into it.
Dong.Pause.Dong-dong.
The door shuddered.
A line of frost light crawled across it like a waking eye.
Then the corridor behind Shan Wei cracked again.
A white bell nail symbol appeared in the air like a warning stamp.
Shan Wei felt the tunnel tighten.
It was preparing a final punishment.
It was trying to force him to choose:
Open the tomb and trigger execution.
Or stop and keep everyone pinned.
Shan Wei's eyes burned like forged gold.
He spoke one calm line, like an emperor speaking to the sky.
"I choose freedom."
The Ice Phoenix Tomb door began to open.
And the tunnel began to break.
To be Continued
© Kishtika., 2025
All rights reserved.