The air, though frozen in time, trembled.
Even without movement, the pressure emanating from the shadow man devoured all reason. His madness was no longer wild — it had purpose, clarity hidden in the chaos.
He cradled Xuanye's body like a lost heirloom. Eyes gleaming. Fingers trembling. His laughter now a low, rumbling chant:
"Finally… I meet you."
His voice fractured as if thousands of echoes tried to speak at once.
"Finally… after ten thousand years… my dream… my promise… shall awaken."
None in the frozen world could understand.
None… except perhaps Mèi Xuán — and even she did not dare to ask.
The Empress remained bowed, trembling like a withered leaf in a storm.
The shadow man turned.
He walked toward her.
Each step carried weight. Each step crushed breath.
His aura no longer felt demonic. It felt celestial, warped by aeons of rage. His mist coiled across the floor like black rivers, flooding toward her knees.
She looked up instinctively—and immediately bowed her head again.
"Forgive me…" she whispered. "I dared not know—"
Her body lifted, not by her own will, but like a puppet raised on invisible strings.
She floated upward, suspended in the air. Her limbs locked. Her spiritual energy collapsed into stillness.
The shadow man's voice dropped into a growl that shattered sound itself:
"Not. A single. Scratch."
A second wave of power struck her soul directly.
"Not on him. Not on his companions. Not even his shadow."
"Even your gaze shall not rest on him without my leave."
Her throat convulsed.
Mèi Xuán—Demon Queen of the Threaded Abyss—trembled like a mortal child.
"One whisper against him... and your name will vanish from the stars."
She could no longer breathe. Her pride, her cruelty, her infernal grace—all buried beneath his will.
And yet… something flickered in her heart.
Not fear.
But jealousy.
"尊上…" (My Lord…) she managed through cracked lips. "Forgive this lowly one… but what is his origin? Why… do you protect him so?"
The question hung heavy.
A pause.
The shadow's twisted face turned slightly, as if weighing something unspoken.
"You want to know?" he asked softly. "You think yourself worthy?"
"I know you have many questions…" he said, with a grin far too wide. "But it's better—much better—that you never find the answers."
"He is special to me. That is all you may know."
"More than you. More than your kingdom. More than this entire decaying world."
Mèi Xuán's eyes dimmed. A crack formed in her pride. Jealousy rooted itself like a thorn.
Then, the shadow straightened.
"I'm leaving now," he said casually. "But heed this…"
"Don't provoke him. Don't touch him. Don't tempt your end."
"My plan has waited too long… Don't be the stone that breaks the heavens' thread."
He turned.
And vanished.
No ripple. No light.
Only absence.
And time resumed.
A gust of breath escaped the lungs of every living person in the hall.
Fire blazed. Swords rang. Blood dripped again.
But now, the world was changed.
Xuanye was standing—healed. The wound at his throat gone, his body glowing faintly with lingering energy.
Mèi Xuán lay crumpled against the wall, blood on her lip, aura frayed.
The team rushed toward Xuanye, forming a protective circle.
"Xuanye!"
"Are you okay?!"
"I thought we lost you!"
He nodded weakly, still confused.
"I… don't know what happened…"
"No one moved," Shui Lin muttered. "But… somehow you were healed."
"And she's injured," Feng Ruo whispered, eyes locked on the motionless empress.
Yue Chányīn narrowed her gaze. "Now's our chance. We run."
They moved quickly. The wounded supported, spiritual power barely stabilized.
Su Feilí helped Xuanye onto her shoulder. "You're not dying today, young master. Not if I have anything to say about it."
As they began to retreat toward the shattered gateway, Mèi Xuán stirred.
She watched them go—the six of them, battered and breathing. Alive.
She could have stopped them.
She could have summoned a tide of blood-thread demons.
But she didn't.
Her limbs refused to move. Her heart remained sunken in humiliation.
Her pride had been stepped on.
Her power, shattered.
And as they vanished into the light, her voice finally broke through her lips—a whisper at first.
Then a scream.
"我会杀了你!"(I will kill you!)
The hall shook.
Stones fell from the ceiling. Molten blood cracked from the walls. Serpent sigils on the pillars shattered.
Her fury was boundless—but she was too late.
She dropped to her knees again, staring at her bloodstained hand.
"I'll remember you," she muttered.
"Ling Xuanye…"
"I'll remember how I knelt… how I begged… and how he praised you above me."
She raised her voice again, one last roar of fury:
"One day, I'll drag you back to this hall… and crush that look of pity from your eyes."
And her scream echoed so hard—
The Infernal Hall cracked.
To be continued...