The summons came with no bell this time.
No thunder of bone-bell across stone, no runners shouting through corridors. Only silence — the kind that clings to your skin, making each step sound louder than it should.
The boy who delivered the message refused to meet my eyes. He bowed, handed me the slip, and fled as though even carrying Iron Veil's seal had burned his hands.
The wolves gathered close when I broke the wax. Wei Lan's smile curled sharp when she read over my shoulder.
"Ahhh, so the noose tightens."
Qiao Han scowled, his fists knotting. "Iron Veil. He'll strangle us before we even open our mouths."
Shen Yu only muttered, "We're already dead. Already—" until his ink-smeared fingers shook too hard to keep writing.
I folded the letter once, twice, and slid it into my sleeve. My voice was calm, steadier than I felt.
"We're summoned. We answer."
* * * * * * * * *
Iron Veil's chamber was nothing like Silent Reed's quiet halls, nor Ink Widow's perfumed lair.
The chamber was bare stone, walls hung with black silk that glimmered faintly in the lamplight. But the silk was not decoration — I realized this the moment I stepped across the threshold.
They weren't curtains. They were chains.
Threads of qi woven into tangible lines, faint but real, stretching from wall to wall, ceiling to floor. They draped and coiled and crossed, making the entire chamber feel like the inside of a vast spider's web.
And at its center sat Iron Veil.
His body was tall, draped in plain black robes, face hidden beneath the dark veil that gave him his name. Only his eyes were visible: cold, sharp, pale gray.
His presence pressed down like an executioner's hand on the back of the neck.
The door closed behind us. The chains trembled, faintly humming. I felt the air constrict, breath tightening in my lungs.
Wei Lan giggled softly beside me. "How pretty. A chamber of chains."
The sound was strangled mid-laugh — an invisible force wrapped around her throat, jerking her head up. She gasped, eyes wide, and for the first time I saw fear flicker in her gaze.
Iron Veil had not moved. But one of the chains had.
It tightened around Wei Lan's neck until her laugh died in a rasp.
"Speak only when given leave," Iron Veil said. His voice was soft, but it filled the chamber like a blade sliding into flesh.
The chain loosened. Wei Lan rubbed her throat, lips trembling into a smile again, though thinner, brittle.
* * * * * * * * *
We stood. He remained seated.
"Lin Xuan," he said, his pale eyes fixing on me. "Wolves of Reed."
We bowed as one.
He let the silence stretch.
Chains quivered faintly in the corners of my vision, tightening and loosening with the rhythm of our breath. I realized, with a chill, that they weren't fixed to the walls alone. They were connected to us. Threads invisible to touch, but real in weight.
When Shen Yu's breath quickened, a chain near him pulsed. When Qiao Han clenched his fists, another tautened.
Iron Veil's Lein were not just weapons. They were truth made visible.
Finally, he spoke.
"Black Vulture is dead. His veins were drained, his bones hollowed. Poison, strangulation, or some new treachery — I will know which."
His gaze swept over us. "Where were you when he died?"
I forced my voice even. "In our den, Captain. We were not called. We were not near his halls."
The chains did not tighten.
But Shen Yu's hand shook, brush scratching too fast across his parchment. The chains near him quivered, pulsing faintly.
Iron Veil's gaze turned on him. "And you?"
Shen Yu stammered, ink blotting. "W-we were in the den, Captain. I-I wrote it down, every moment—"
The chains constricted. Shen Yu gagged, clutching his throat.
I stepped forward sharply. "He speaks truth, Captain. His fear distorts it, but his words are no lie."
The chains paused. Iron Veil's eyes turned to me, weighing, measuring. Slowly, the qi loosened. Shen Yu collapsed to his knees, trembling, scribbling the words truth distorts fear again and again on the floor.
* * * * * * * * *
Iron Veil leaned back slightly. "Chaos follows your cell. Crimson Flame and Iron Hand bleed in the valleys, both blaming Lotus whispers. You were seen near their scouts. Why?"
Qiao Han barked, his anger breaking free. "We only did as ordered — we followed the sects, nothing more!"
The chains around him jerked tight, wrapping his arms, pulling until his shoulders strained. He snarled, muscles bulging, but the more he struggled the tighter they drew.
"Strength without discipline," Iron Veil said coldly. "Rebellion without cause."
I stepped forward again, lowering my head. My heart hammered, but I forced calm into my tone.
"Captain, if chaos follows us, it is because storms already brewed. We are only wolves trailing lightning, not shaping it. Crimson Flame's greed and Iron Hand's pride would have clashed whether we breathed or not."
The chains shivered… then eased.
Qiao Han dropped to his knees, gasping.
Iron Veil studied me in silence. His eyes were pale, unblinking, the kind that stripped flesh from soul.
"Half-truths," he murmured. "But truths nonetheless."
* * * * * * * * *
Wei Lan chuckled softly again, rubbing her bruised throat. "Oh, Captain. You choke us so prettily. Surely you know wolves cannot slay vultures. That death belongs to captains alone."
The air hummed. Chains quivered. For an instant I thought he would silence her again.
But instead, Iron Veil inclined his head slightly. "Wolves do not kill captains. Unless a captain grows weak enough to be eaten."
His gaze returned to me. "You learn fast. Too fast. You watch chains, you breathe steady. Most wolves flail, gasp, reveal themselves. You… do not."
The chains nearest me shifted, brushing faintly against my shoulders, cold as steel.
"You will answer me this," he said. "What do you see when you look at Lein?"
My pulse thundered. The wrong answer here could strangle me dead before I finished the word.
But I forced the breath slow, the voice steady.
"I see discipline, Captain. I see will made chain, obsession made flesh. Lein are not weapons alone. They are the truths of their bearer, given form."
Silence.
The chains stilled.
Iron Veil leaned forward slightly. For the first time, I thought I saw something flicker behind his pale eyes. Not approval. Not anger. But perhaps… recognition.
"Better eyes than a wolf should have," he murmured.
* * * * * * * * *
He leaned back, folding his hands. The chains loosened around the chamber, air easing just enough for us to breathe again.
"The vulture is dead. Truth will be strangled from the shadows. But remember this, Lin Xuan — spiders weave webs. Chains bind spiders too."
He raised a hand. The door creaked open.
"Leave. For now."
* * * * * * * * *
We stumbled back into the corridor, air filling our lungs like it had never been there before.
Qiao Han cursed, rubbing at the red welts across his arms. "Bastard nearly broke my shoulders…"
Wei Lan only laughed, voice hoarse but delighted. "Mmm. Chains and choking and questions. What a game."
Shen Yu scribbled madly, blotting page after page with ink-stained words: Chains see truth. Chains bind. Leader sees chains. Leader is dangerous. Dangerous.
And me?
I walked in silence.
Because in Iron Veil's chamber, I had seen more than threats. I had seen Lein not as terror, but as pattern. As puzzle. As truth.
And if Lein were chains born of will — then one day, I would forge my own.
* * * * * * * * *
The corridor outside Iron Veil's chamber still smelled of smoke and cold steel.
None of us spoke until the last silk-hung wall was far behind us, until the air lightened enough that our lungs no longer felt strangled.
Even then, silence clung.
It was Wei Lan who broke it first, her laughter a dry rasp from her bruised throat. "Ahh, what a delight. To dance beneath chains. To feel them cut without cutting. Did you see his eyes, Leader? Pale as ash, hungry as rope. He wanted to choke us until we sang truth like sparrows."
Qiao Han snarled, rubbing his reddened arms. "You laugh too much, Lan. That wasn't a game. Those weren't just chains — he had us all on leashes. One twitch, and we'd be corpses like the vulture."
Shen Yu muttered without looking up from his parchment. "Leader spoke… Leader saved… but chains saw truth. Always truth. Chains bind us. Chains bind him. Leader… dangerous. Dangerous."
Ink spattered as his hand shook, his brush tearing holes in the page.
I said nothing.
Because their words were only fragments of what I had seen.
Iron Veil's Lein were not simple ropes of qi. They were extensions of his will. Every breath he took, every flicker of control, shaped them. They tightened when lies came, loosened when discipline returned. They were not tools — they were truths.
And truths could be learned.
* * * * * * * * *
That night, while the wolves muttered and argued, I sat alone.
The courtyard stones were cold beneath me, the moon sharp above. I closed my eyes and remembered.
Chains pulsing with breath. Veins blackened with poison. The heavy drag of will shaping air itself.
If Lein were chains forged of qi and will… then I needed both.
Qi I had — weak, fragile, but present. Will I had more than most. Pain had tempered me. Betrayal had carved me. Rebirth had sharpened me.
All that remained was weaving them together.
* * * * * * * * *
I drew breath slow, steady. Pushed qi down through my chest, into my arms. My body trembled under the strain. My veins felt too narrow, too thin.
But I forced it through.
Every heartbeat was a hammer striking iron. Blood roared like a river against stone walls. Pain lanced my ribs, my spine, my skull.
I bit down until blood filled my mouth.
The taste burned. Metallic. Sharp.
And in that moment, I remembered — the way my past life's chain had first stirred, just before my end. A flicker, a resonance, born from blood spilled in rage.
I forced my qi into that taste, that memory.
For an instant, the air around my hands thickened. My veins glowed faintly red beneath the skin, threads writhing like living things.
The beginnings of a chain.
It flickered, weak, painful, gone in a breath. But real.
* * * * * * * * *
I collapsed forward, coughing blood.
Wei Lan's laugh drifted from the shadows. She stepped into the courtyard, her gourd swinging at her hip.
"Mmm. Playing with blood and qi, Leader? How naughty. You'll tear yourself apart before you weave anything."
I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, smearing crimson across my sleeve. "Better torn apart while weaving than strangled while idle."
Her smile widened, sharp and bright. "Good. Good. Keep bleeding. I want to see what song your blood sings when the chain finally forms."
She slipped away again, her laughter echoing.
* * * * * * * * *
Later, Qiao Han found me where I still sat, trembling with exhaustion.
"You're pushing too far," he said bluntly, though his tone lacked true anger. "Your body's no stronger than a sect novice's. You'll break it trying to match captains."
I met his gaze. "Then let it break. I'll forge it again in stronger pieces."
For a long moment he stared at me, jaw working. Then he grunted. "You're mad."
But he sat beside me, silent, as though guarding me while I bled.
* * * * * * * * *
Shen Yu was last.
He hovered at the courtyard's edge, scroll pressed to his chest, ink dripping down his fingers. His voice was a whisper.
"If you weave… if you chain… you'll no longer be man. You'll be like them. Monsters."
I looked up at him, my vision blurred, blood still warm on my lips. "Then better a monster that survives, than a man strangled nameless in the dark."
His eyes widened. He scribbled the words frantically, even as tears streaked his ink-stained cheeks.
* * * * * * * * *
By dawn, I could not move. Every muscle screamed. My veins burned as though fire still ran through them. But inside the pain was a flicker of triumph.
A fragment. A glimpse. Proof that Lein was not beyond me.
* * * * * * * * *
Silent Reed came at sunrise.
He stood over me where I lay half-slumped against the wall, his shadow long across the courtyard stones.
"You tried," he said quietly.
My throat was raw, but I forced the words. "I… saw… a chain."
Reed's eyes narrowed. For a long moment he said nothing. Then he crouched, his face level with mine.
"Fools bleed themselves for power. The wise bleed themselves for knowledge. You… bleed for both."
He straightened, cloak whispering. "Good. The masters were right to test you. But understand this, Lin Xuan: the more you reach, the more eyes will turn. And eyes, in the Lotus, are daggers."
He left without another word.
* * * * * * * * *
The wolves gathered around me later. Wei Lan's smile gleamed sharp. Qiao Han's grunt carried rough approval. Shen Yu trembled, scribbling that I was no longer man, but something darker.
And me?
I sat in pain, in blood, in trembling exhaustion. But my mind was sharper than ever.
Because now I knew: Lein were not mysteries beyond reach. They were chains waiting to be forged.
And if captains wove theirs from obsession and will… then mine would be woven from blood.
Blood would be my chain.