The hall of assembly had been built to awe.
It sprawled wide beneath a dome of carved stone, banners of crimson silk hanging heavy, each stitched with the Lotus sigil: a blossom ringed with teeth. Torches burned green along the walls, their smoke rising in spirals that never reached the ceiling.
Thirteen seats ringed the chamber's center, each wrought from bone and iron. They were not arranged as equals — each throne was unique, shaped by its captain's hand. One draped in chains. One dripping with silk. One jagged with broken swords. Another carved smooth and silent, as if it wanted no one to notice until it was too late.
This was the first time I'd seen all of them together. Thirteen captains. Thirteen predators.
The weight of their qi pressed down like a collapsing mountain. My wolves staggered behind me.
Wei Lan's eyes shone wild, her breath quickening. "Ahhh, beautiful! So many monsters in one place."
Qiao Han's jaw tightened, sweat beading his brow. He gripped his saber's hilt until his knuckles blanched. "Monsters… or gods. We shouldn't be here."
Shen Yu dropped to his knees before the doors even closed, scribbling furiously: Thirteen fangs, thirteen chains, thirteen deaths. Ink smeared across his hands, his eyes wide and unblinking.
I kept my back straight, my breathing even, though inside every instinct screamed to bow, to hide, to vanish.
Because this was not assembly. This was a cage of tigers forced into a single pit.
* * * * * * * * *
Silent Reed guided us to the side wall, where cells of wolves clustered in shadows. He said nothing, his presence a cloak that let us stand unnoticed. Or rather — ignored.
Because all eyes were already locked on each other.
Iron Veil sat stiff, his throne draped with chains that shifted faintly as if breathing. His pale eyes were daggers, cutting toward Ink Widow opposite him.
She lounged in violet silks, legs crossed, her throne carved of curling vines that dripped with black resin. Her smile was wide, too wide, her stained hands resting on her lap.
Between them, an empty throne loomed. Carved of vulture bones, feathers etched into its surface. Black Vulture's seat. Empty now.
Every captain's gaze flickered to it. Every word unsaid hung there.
* * * * * * * * *
Iron Veil's voice was first, soft as a strangling cord.
"Black Vulture is dead. His veins blackened. His bones hollow. Only one poison seeps so patiently." His eyes bored into Ink Widow. "Yours."
Chains quivered around his throne. The air grew taut.
Ink Widow's laugh dripped like honey over rot. "Mmm. Poison leaves stains, Veil. My art is patient, yes… but never clean. Black Vulture's body was pristine. His death… too neat. Too disciplined." Her gaze gleamed, lips curling. "Strangled, perhaps?"
The air thickened. Chains rattled. Poisonous smoke drifted.
Other captains stirred.
A man broad as a wall slammed his gauntleted fist against his throne of jagged iron blades. Iron Hand Captain. His voice was a roar.
"Enough games! One of you slit his veins. Speak it plain and I'll crush the skull myself."
A woman cloaked in crimson flame rose half from her throne, fire flickering across her skin. Crimson Flame Captain. Her eyes blazed as she spat, "Games? The sects circle outside, ready to strike! And here we gnaw at each other over bones."
Another captain laughed — a thin, reedy sound. His throne was covered in spiderwebs of silver thread. Silk Ghost Captain. His eyes darted, unblinking. "Of course we gnaw. We are wolves, are we not? If one fang weakens, the rest sharpen."
Accusations rose, voices clashing. The air vibrated with killing intent.
* * * * * * * * *
I forced myself to breathe steady, to observe.
Because beneath the noise, I could see.
Iron Veil's chains thrummed whenever he spoke, tightening with his conviction. His Lein bent truth into bonds, making his words feel undeniable.
Ink Widow's smoke slithered, weakening those who breathed it, making their protests falter. Her Lein seeped doubt into bone.
Iron Hand's qi pulsed with every beat of his fist, raw strength demanding submission. Crimson Flame's qi flickered wild, unstable, yet brilliant, scorching the air itself.
And Silk Ghost… his threads barely moved, yet I saw them attach to other captains' words, tugging, pulling, twisting them toward suspicion.
It was more than intimidation. More than power.
It was obsession given form. Truth made visible. Lein were their souls, naked, weaponized.
And I realized — this assembly wasn't words at all. It was a battlefield already.
* * * * * * * * *
Wei Lan leaned close, whispering in my ear, her voice trembling with delight. "Leader, look at them. Choking, dripping, burning, pulling. Each one bares their hunger. Mmm, which one will bite first?"
Qiao Han snarled, his voice low. "We shouldn't watch this. We're prey here. One glance the wrong way and we're dead."
Shen Yu's brush tore parchment as he scribbled: Chains bind. Poison seeps. Flame devours. Threads twist. All fangs bare. Wolves crushed.
I silenced them with a raised hand.
Because Iron Veil had risen from his throne.
* * * * * * * * *
His pale eyes burned cold, his veil hiding everything but contempt.
"Poison denies. Threads twist. Flames distract. But truth remains. Black Vulture was disciplined. He died disciplined. Only one captain kills so neatly."
Chains erupted from his throne, coiling upward, rattling like the bones of strangled men.
Ink Widow's smile sharpened, black smoke pouring from her hands. "Mmm. Neat deaths, messy deaths… they all rot the same in the end. But if you wish to accuse, Veil, then let poison and chain decide truth."
The air thickened until breathing felt like drowning.
Other captains rose, qi flaring.
Crimson Flame's fire roared higher, her voice a snarl. "Enough! If you two strangle and seep, you'll drag us all into graves while sect blades pierce our walls!"
But her fire only added to the storm.
The assembly teetered on the brink.
And I felt it — the moment just before the first blow falls.
* * * * * * * * *
In the shadows, Reed's voice brushed my ear, so soft only I could hear.
"Watch. Do not blink. If you wish to forge a chain, you must see how others wield theirs. This is truth unmasked."
I swallowed hard. My heart thundered.
Because the storm was breaking.
And once the first Lein struck, the hall would become a battlefield.
* * * * * * * * *
The first strike was not sound, but silence.
Iron Veil raised his hand, and every chain in the hall went taut. The rattling cut off at once, strangled mid-clink, the very air pulled tight like a noose.
A heartbeat later, Ink Widow exhaled — a sigh laced with venom. Black smoke poured from her lips, filling the gaps between chains, slithering like oil through cracks in stone.
Chain and poison collided.
The hall trembled.
* * * * * * * * *
I had seen men fight before. Blades clashing. Qi surging. But this was different.
Iron Veil's chains weren't simply weapons — they were command. Each link an order given shape. They lashed forward with absolute discipline, wrapping through the smoke, binding space itself.
Ink Widow's venom did not strike head-on. It seeped. It slipped between links, corroding from within, spreading through cracks like rot in wood.
Every breath burned. Every blink stung. My wolves staggered behind me.
Wei Lan's laughter turned breathless, ecstatic. "Ahhh! Look, Leader — truth and rot dancing! How beautiful!"
Qiao Han dragged her back, arm shielding her mouth from the smoke. His own eyes watered red. "We'll choke before we see beauty!"
Shen Yu clawed at his parchment, scribbling with cracked nails, blood mixing with ink. Chains strangle. Poison seeps. Wolves drown.
I forced my body still. If I swayed, if I faltered, the chains would sense weakness, the poison would seep deeper.
Reed's words echoed in me: Watch. Do not blink.
So I watched.
* * * * * * * * *
The other captains did not stay idle.
Crimson Flame rose in a roar. Her body flared with fire until her throne itself melted, slag dripping to the floor. She hurled fire like chains, waves of flame lashing outward.
"Enough games!" she thundered. "If Lotus is to burn, let it burn by my hand!"
Her Lein was fury itself, heat born of obsession. Her flames did not spread like fire — they obeyed her temper, striking where her rage fixed.
Iron Hand bellowed, his gauntlets shattering stone as he slammed the ground. The floor cracked, jagged spears of earth surging upward. His Lein was not subtle: it was blunt force, will made iron.
Silk Ghost only laughed. His fingers twitched, and silver threads slipped unseen into the chaos, glinting faintly before vanishing into smoke. Whispers followed wherever they touched, voices goading, inflaming rage.
Within breaths, the assembly was no longer council. It was war.
* * * * * * * * *
The pressure was suffocating.
Lein clashed like storms colliding. Chains cracked like thunder, flames roared like the sun, venom hissed like floodwaters, earth split like bones breaking.
Every collision shook the hall. Stone fell from the dome. Torches guttered, green fire swirling wildly.
And me?
I stood in the middle of a storm that could erase me with a glance.
Every instinct screamed to hide, to kneel, to vanish. But I forced my eyes open, forced myself to see.
Because knowledge was survival.
* * * * * * * * *
Iron Veil's chains tightened whenever his conviction peaked. They were not random — they pulsed with the rhythm of his will.
Ink Widow's smoke thickened when others weakened — her poison fed on despair.
Crimson Flame's fire surged with her temper, hotter with every shout, dimmer with every pause.
Iron Hand's earth spears rose only where his fists struck — bound by simplicity, brute will shaping stone.
Silk Ghost's threads worked quietest of all — slipping into words, twisting meanings, making allies glare at allies.
I memorized each truth, each obsession, carving them into my mind even as blood dripped from my lips under the pressure.
* * * * * * * * *
Then — chaos turned toward me.
A spear of earth shattered near our corner, shards flying like blades. Qiao Han shoved me aside, his arm cut open. Wei Lan coughed blood, laughing even as she staggered. Shen Yu curled on the floor, scribbling madness.
And then — a whip of flame cut through the smoke, lashing toward us.
I froze. Too fast. Too strong.
For a heartbeat, I saw our deaths.
And something inside me snapped.
* * * * * * * * *
Blood surged in my veins, screaming through my torn body. I bit my tongue, spat crimson, and forced qi into it.
Chains flickered.
Thin, red threads burst from my hand, jagged and trembling, wrapping across the air before us.
The fire struck them — and for a single breath, they held.
Crimson flame met crimson blood. The chains shrieked, cracked, shattered — but the strike slowed, split, burned past without devouring us whole.
My lungs seized. Blood poured from my nose. My vision went black at the edges.
But we lived.
* * * * * * * * *
Wei Lan shrieked with laughter, clutching my arm. "Leader! I saw it! Chains of blood, bright as fire! Mmm, you'll strangle the world yet!"
Qiao Han stared, stunned, his blade dripping red from his own wound. "You… you blocked a captain's strike."
Shen Yu's ink-smeared face lifted, eyes wide with terror and awe. His quill scratched furiously: Blood binds. Blood devours. Blood chain rises.
I swayed, gasping, trembling. The blood-chain was gone, shattered, but the memory of its weight lingered.
Not stable. Not strong. But real.
Proof.
* * * * * * * * *
The hall convulsed with violence until the dome itself cracked. Stone rained down, flames roared unchecked, poison filled every breath.
And then — a voice cut through it all.
"ENOUGH."
It was Reed.
He stood in the center, his presence a shadow that swallowed even firelight. For the first time, he revealed his Lein — not flame, not chain, not smoke.
Silence.
Pure silence.
The moment it spread, all sound died. Chains stilled. Flames dimmed. Smoke halted. Earth froze mid-crack. Even Silk Ghost's threads dangled, lifeless.
Silence pressed harder than noise, cutting sharper than blades.
Reed's voice echoed, calm but unyielding.
"You devour yourselves while sect enemies circle our gates. Black Vulture rots, and you claw at his bones like dogs. If you wish to end Lotus, continue. If you wish it to endure, bind your fangs until the prey outside is dead."
For a long moment, no captain moved. Their qi seethed, straining against silence.
But slowly, grudgingly, they withdrew.
Iron Veil's chains slumped. Ink Widow's smoke faded. Crimson Flame smothered her fire, Iron Hand lowered his fists, Silk Ghost reeled in his threads.
The assembly ended not in peace, but in fracture.
* * * * * * * * *
When we staggered from the hall, my wolves were half-broken. Wei Lan still giggled breathlessly, black smoke staining her lips. Qiao Han bled from his arm, jaw tight. Shen Yu's scroll was torn, his words illegible scribbles.
And me?
I limped, blood on my sleeve, my veins burning. But my eyes blazed.
Because I had seen.
I had watched gods clash, and in their storm I had glimpsed truths.
Chains strangle. Poison seeps. Fire rages. Earth crushes. Threads twist. Silence devours.
And now — blood binds.
My blood.
The captains had declared war, though they would not name it. Their unity shattered. Their fangs turned inward.
And I?
I was no longer prey.
I was a wolf weaving his first chain.