Shan Wei stepped through the ice door, and the world changed in one breath.
Behind him, the Silent Bell tunnel still screamed. Ahead of him, the Ice Phoenix Tomb felt quiet in a frightening way, like a frozen sea holding its breath. The air was so cold it did not "bite" like wind. It pressed on him like a law. Frost smoke drifted along the floor, thin and pale, and the walls were made of layered ice and old stone, sealed together by ancient formations.
The moment Shan Wei entered, the frost thread in the air pulled tight, like it finally found the place it belonged to. The thread glowed with soft moonlight and pointed deeper into the tomb.
Shan Wei's face stayed calm. His eyes stayed sharp. He did not rush, and he did not slow down. He walked like an emperor walking into a trap he already understood.
The monk's voice followed him into the tomb, weaker now, like it was shouting from behind a closed door.
"You stepped into her grave," it hissed. "This is where your obsession freezes forever."
Shan Wei did not answer.
He lifted his hand and drew a small prismatic ring in front of him, just big enough to cover his chest and his heartbeat. It was not a shield for blades. It was a shield for rules. He could still feel the Moon Lock pressure on him, heavy like a mountain, but he kept it contained, like a furnace locked behind iron doors.
The tomb corridor opened into a wide hall.
At the center of the hall stood frozen statues.
They were not carved.
They were people.
Ice Phoenix clan elders, their robes locked mid-motion, their hands still raised as if they were protecting something behind them. Their faces were calm, but their eyes carried a deep sadness, like they already knew how it would end.
Above them, on the ceiling, was a huge carving of an ice phoenix with wings spread wide. Its feathers were made of layered crystal ice, and each feather had small bell-script lines hidden inside, like someone wrote secret rules into the bird's body.
Shan Wei's golden eyes narrowed.
So the Monastery had been here.
They did not only pin threads in tunnels.
They entered tombs.
They entered clans.
They entered prophecies.
The frost thread pulled Shan Wei to the far side of the hall, where a frozen wall held a large tablet. The tablet looked like ice, but Shan Wei could sense metal deep inside it. The writing on it was not normal writing. It was a "prophecy record," carved with a mix of bloodline power and fate law.
Shan Wei stepped closer and placed two fingers on the tablet.
Instantly, the tablet reacted.
Cold light surged into his fingertips, and the room dimmed as if the tomb did not want the prophecy to be read again. The air thickened. The ice statues seemed to "watch" him without moving.
Shan Wei stayed steady.
He drew a simple reading formation in the air. No fancy shapes. Just clean prismatic lines, like a key opening a locked book.
The prophecy record began to show meaning.
Words formed in pale frost light:
THE FROST STAR WILL CUT HEAVEN'S LIE.THE RETURNING PRISM WILL BREAK THE BELL ORDER.IF THEIR THREADS UNITE, THE MOON LOCK SHATTERS.IF THE MOON LOCK SHATTERS, THE COURT FALLS SILENT.
Shan Wei's gaze sharpened.
So this was the real fear.
Not that Shan Wei was "unstable."
Not that he was "too strong."
They feared what would happen if his bond with Xueyao was allowed to become whole.
The prophecy record continued.
THE COURT SHALL PIN HER THREAD.THE MONASTERY SHALL FORGE A NODE FROM FROST.THE NODE SHALL WEAR THE MOON CROWN.THE NODE SHALL HOLD THE NAIL.
Shan Wei's fingers tightened slightly.
A frost node.
A moon crown.
A nail.
Xuan Chi.
Shan Wei's voice stayed low, calm, and controlled.
"So you made her," he said to the empty tomb. "You made her into a tool."
The monk's voice hissed from far away.
"Tool. Savior. Same thing."
Shan Wei ignored it.
He looked again at the prophecy record, deeper. He searched for the hidden line, the part that always exists in fate texts. The part that can be used to change everything.
He found it.
It was faint, almost buried under frost.
EXCEPTION: IF THE RETURNING PRISM ACCEPTS THE NAIL'S PRICE, THE NODE CAN BE FREED WITHOUT BREAKING.
Shan Wei's eyes narrowed.
Price.
The nail always demanded payment.
The Monastery called it "balance."
The Court called it "order."
But it was simply theft with a clean name.
The hall suddenly shook.
Not because the tomb was collapsing.
Because the Silent Bell system outside had triggered something bigger.
A sound rolled through the air, not loud, but heavy and final.
Three bell strikes, slow and deep.
Dong… Dong… Dong…
The walls of the tomb flickered, and a new voice spoke through the air, cold and distant, like a judge sitting far above the world.
"The Court convenes."
Shan Wei's expression did not change.
The judge voice continued, each word clear, like it was carved into stone.
"Execution Vote. Subject: Qi Shan Wei. Charge: destabilizing obsession. Crime: loosening sealed consort threads."
The tomb itself seemed to grow colder, as if the Court's words carried frost.
The judge voice spoke again.
"Vote begins now."
Shan Wei listened without fear.
He was not shaking.
He was not begging.
He simply kept his focus.
Because he already knew the truth: the Court did not care about justice.
The Court cared about control.
In the air above Shan Wei, a pale stamp began to form. Not ink. Not paper. A verdict stamp made of law.
VERDICT: PENDING.
The stamp pulsed like a heartbeat that was not his.
And outside, the world was still fighting to keep him alive long enough to finish this.
Yuerin stepped through the Conclave mouth first.
The crack in the air opened wider, and golden light swallowed her shadow cloak. The Pavilion leader stumbled in behind her, dragged by the chain like a caught snake. The moment they entered, the world around them changed from storm and blood to silent gold and cold marble.
They were inside a vault corridor.
The walls were made of smooth stone with golden lines that formed shifting patterns. Those patterns were not decorations. They were contract formations, ready to activate if someone breathed wrong.
Floating along the corridor were relics sealed inside clear crystal boxes.
A mask with black writing on the inside.
A bell shard that hummed without sound.
A dagger that looked normal until its blade showed faint words: KARMA-ERASE.
Yuerin's eyes went colder.
"So you store sins like treasure," she said.
The Pavilion leader's mask tilted, amused.
"This is not the Pavilion's vault," they replied. "This is the Auction Conclave's. They sell anything. Even rules."
Yuerin pulled the chain tighter.
"Where is the nail road?" she demanded.
The leader lifted a finger and pointed ahead.
"At the end," they said. "But the corridor has clauses."
As if the corridor heard them, words rose from the floor like black smoke.
CLAUSE: TRESPASSERS PAY WITH MEMORY.CLAUSE: TRESPASSERS PAY WITH NAME.CLAUSE: TRESPASSERS PAY WITH TIME.
Yuerin's gaze sharpened.
"Cute," she muttered. "Three ways to die."
She stepped forward anyway, dragging the leader with her, because she did not come here to be polite.
Behind them, the Refuge Tunnel lane still rolled like a moving fortress outside. Zhen held the road, shifting shield gates like giant doors. Trapped assassins slammed inside the maze, but the gates kept tightening.
Zhen spoke like a war report.
"ASSASSINS: STILL BAD."
Then he added, very seriously, like it was an important lesson.
"MAZE: STILL GOOD."
It was a small, strange moment of blunt logic in the middle of danger.
Then Xuan Chi gasped again.
The moment the Court vote began, the Moon Lock pulled at her like a hook in her soul. Her half-moon flickered, and her frost scars on the ground brightened, then cracked. A thin shape tried to form over her head—like a crown made of pale bell metal.
The Moon Crown.
Xuan Chi's hands shook.
"I… I can't…" she whispered.
Yuerin snapped her head toward her, eyes sharp.
"Say your name," Yuerin ordered.
Xuan Chi's breath hitched.
The crown's shadow tightened.
Yuerin's voice turned colder, stronger.
"Say your real name. Now."
Xuan Chi's lips trembled.
"Xuan Chi," she whispered.
The crown shadow flickered.
Yuerin leaned closer.
"Again," she said. "Louder. Don't let them rename you."
Xuan Chi swallowed hard and forced the words out.
"Xuan Chi!"
The Moon Crown shadow shook, and for one breath, it did not settle.
Zhen shifted a shield gate to block incoming pressure from above, like he was placing a wall between her and the sky.
"PROTECT FROST NODE," Zhen said, as if she was an objective on a list.
Then he added, blunt and too honest:
"FROST NODE MUST NOT BECOME MOON MASK."
Xuan Chi's eyes widened.
Even in fear, she almost wanted to ask how Zhen said that so simply.
But there was no time.
Because the sky formed a new stamp again.
Not "seize."
Not "execute."
This one was colder.
VOTE COUNT: ONE.
The Court's first vote.
Somewhere in the heavens, someone had voted to kill Shan Wei.
Inside the Ice Phoenix Tomb, Shan Wei felt the vote as a pressure change, like the air becoming heavier.
The judge voice spoke again.
"Vote count: one."
Shan Wei did not flinch.
He walked deeper into the tomb, following the frost thread to a second chamber. This chamber held a frozen altar.
It was not a normal altar.
It was shaped like a phoenix wing folded around a single point, like the altar was protecting a secret seed.
Above it floated a small crystal sphere, locked in ice.
Inside the sphere was a thin, pale thread.
It was not the whole thread.
It looked like a shard of a thread.
A piece taken from a larger bond.
Shan Wei's eyes narrowed.
This was part of Ling Xueyao's consort thread.
And it was used to "forge a node."
Used to build Xuan Chi's Moon Lock role.
The monk's voice came again, sharper now.
"Touch it," it hissed. "Pay the price."
Shan Wei's gaze stayed steady.
He raised his hand and placed two fingers on the frozen altar.
The moment he touched it, the whole chamber lit up.
Frost flames ran across the altar like lines of living ice. The crystal sphere shook. The frost thread shard inside it trembled like a trapped bird.
And the tomb answered.
A deep pulse moved through the ground.
The ice phoenix carving on the ceiling seemed to "breathe."
Then the frozen altar cracked.
Not breaking.
Opening.
A pair of eyes opened inside the ice.
Bright.
Ancient.
Full of pride and grief.
An Ice Phoenix spirit rose from the altar like moonlight turning into a living bird. Its wings were made of frost fire, and each feather carried a sharp, clean pressure that made even Shan Wei's skin prickle.
The phoenix spirit stared at him.
Not with hate.
With judgment.
Its voice came out clear, like ice breaking in a lake.
"Return what you stole," it said.
Shan Wei's eyes narrowed slightly.
"I stole nothing," he answered calmly.
The phoenix spirit's gaze turned colder.
"Your thread," it said. "Your return. Your bond. Your fate. These are not clean. They carry nails."
Shan Wei's fingers tightened on the altar edge.
"The nails were forced on me," he said.
The phoenix spirit's wings flared slightly, and the chamber filled with frost light.
"The world does not care who forced it," the phoenix said. "The price is still owed."
Outside, the judge voice spoke again.
"Vote count: two."
Another vote.
The verdict stamp above Shan Wei in the tomb pulsed harder.
VERDICT: PENDING.
In the Refuge Tunnel lane, Drakonix suddenly opened his eyes wider than before.
His chest rose.
His half-formed wing stretched.
Then—slowly, painfully—one full prismatic wing spread open, shining with seven colors.
Awe hit everyone for a breath, even in the middle of death.
Drakonix breathed out.
A pale Court stamp in the sky tried to form:
VERDICT: EXECUTE.
But Drakonix's flame touched it.
The stamp burned.
Not exploding. Not roaring.
It simply turned into ash, like a command the world refused to accept.
Yuerin's eyes widened.
"He's burning the vote," she whispered.
Zhen spoke like a report.
"COURT VERDICT STAMP DESTROYED."
Then he added, very serious, like a simple fact.
"DRAKONIX DISAGREES."
The humor was tiny, but the meaning was huge.
Drakonix's wing trembled. He was still weak. He could not fight a whole Court.
But he could burn their words.
Back inside the tomb, the phoenix spirit stared at Shan Wei.
Its voice turned even colder.
"Your life is the price," it said.
The altar's frost light surged up Shan Wei's arm.
It did not try to cut his flesh.
It tried to take his time.
To take his life.
Shan Wei's eyes burned gold.
He did not panic.
He did not pull away.
He tightened his prismatic anchor ring over his heart and held the pressure like an emperor holding a collapsing sky.
"I will pay," Shan Wei said, voice calm and hard. "But I will choose what I pay for."
The phoenix spirit's eyes narrowed.
"And what will you buy with your life?" it asked.
Shan Wei looked straight at it.
"Freedom," he said.
The frost thread shard inside the crystal sphere twitched violently.
And the Court's verdict stamp in the air above the tomb pulsed again, trying to finalize.
The chamber shook.
The phoenix spirit lifted its wings.
And the frozen altar began to open fully—revealing something sealed beneath, something the Monastery never wanted Shan Wei to touch.
To be Continued
~End of Chapter 31~
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