The second chime wasn't just sound—it was weight, rippling through the air like oil over water, pressing against Qin Mo's chest. The shard flared, urging him toward the source, its heat warring with the basin's frost. The copper-eyed creature tilted its head, as if hearing a distant voice, its pelt shimmering with faint copper light, like embers under ash.
"They've marked you," it said, curiosity replacing hunger, its voice a low growl that echoed off the monoliths. "You stole something worth their chase—a shard tied to the Silent Tax."
The robed figures straightened as one, their staffs tapping faster, the grid surging brighter, veins of red light pulsing toward the basin's edge like blood through stone. A third chime echoed from the slope, sharper, colder, as if the mountain itself sang.
[Predator's Ledger: Secondary signal — unknown caster. Harmonic match: 63%. Binding risk: High. White lines detected — leash potential: 72%.]
Unknown meant danger. The bells in his pouch weren't trophies—they were a leash, their chimes tightening around his core. Qin Mo's grip on his blade tightened, the steel cold against his palm. He wouldn't let them bind him.
The creature blocked the basin's exit, pelt rippling as it shifted. "Walk out, they claim you. Stay, I claim you."
Qin Mo kept his sword raised, shifting to the cold seam where the grid's pull weakened. "Then you'd better outrun them."
A robed figure blurred forward, steel flashing from beneath its cloak. Qin Mo cut low, blade cracking bone at the knee, the snap echoing like a breaking branch. The figure collapsed, its body feeding the spiral, red lines flaring brighter.
[Resonance chain restored: 4%. Life force siphoned: 12%.]
Damn. Their bodies anchored the array—killing them strengthened it. His mind raced, mapping the grid's weak points, the runes' curves glowing faintly in his vision.
The creature lunged, claws slicing through the frost-laden air. Qin Mo sidestepped to a monolith, Flame Step crackling, flames licking the stone. Sparks climbed the runes, which hissed dark, their glow dimming. The air grew heavier, the basin's hum faltering.
[Resonance chain disrupted. Link strength reduced: 11%.]
Its claw caught his sleeve, tearing fabric with a sound like ripping ice. Qin Mo turned with the pull, slashing for ribs. Steel bit halfway, caught on something harder than bone—pelt or metal, he couldn't tell. His fingers numbed, the cold seeping deeper.
"You think steel ends me?" the creature growled, its copper eyes blazing.
Qin Mo feinted right, then dove left toward the altar—the spiral's heart. Break it, and the basin might collapse. His boots skidded on frost, the grid's lines pulsing faster, as if sensing his intent.
Two robed figures blocked him, staves striking in unison, their tips glowing with red light. He ducked one, caught the other between blade and guard, and shoved. The staff splintered, spilling light like molten glass, the shards hissing as they hit the frost. Nearby lines dimmed, the array's rhythm stuttering.
[Resonance chain disrupted. Link strength reduced: 9%. Balance: Heat 50% / Cold 50%.]
The creature abandoned the spiral, pelt blazing with heat, as if drawing from the altar's power. It charged, all predator, claws aimed for his chest. Qin Mo braced, his blade meeting claw in a shower of sparks, the impact jarring his bones. The pelt constricted like a serpent, tightening around his arm.
[Binding threshold: 81%. Heat attunement suppressed: 20%.]
The fourth chime sliced through like a blade, sharper than before, echoing in his skull. The grid shivered, the robed figures freezing mid-step. The creature's steps dragged, as if wading through snow, its copper eyes flickering with unease. The shard seared, a warning of something greater.
[External override: Binding threshold: 72%. White lines active — leash attempting to lock meridians.]
His vision split: the basin, red lines, and the creature in one layer; in another, white lines descended from the sky, latching onto his limbs, spine, jaw—like ice needles piercing his meridians, trying to bind his will. A leash, not a tracker.
The creature grinned, teeth glinting. "You're theirs."
Qin Mo's heart roared defiance. He lunged for the altar, the spiral's heart, where the red lines converged. Two robed figures moved to intercept, but he was faster, Flame Step flaring, heat chasing frost from the grooves. His blade screamed into stone, cracks spidering from the impact.
[Resonance chain collapsing. Link strength reduced: 41%.]
The white lines wavered, their grip loosening.
The creature roared, claws raking his shoulder, pain blurring the altar. Blood seeped, warm against the cold. [Binding threshold: 89% → 64%. Endurance loss: 25%.]
He swung again, blade biting deeper. The altar split, red light scattering into the night like dying embers. The robed figures fell, strings cut, their bodies crumbling to frost. The leash burned away, the white lines dissolving into the dark.
The creature paused, chest heaving, pelt smoldering. "Not prey," it said, a promise in its tone, copper eyes glinting with something like respect. It backed into a monolith's shadow, vanishing as if swallowed by the stone. "Another time."
A fifth chime rang, closer now, sharp and commanding.
[Proximity alert: Hostile human presence within 300m. Source: Azure Flame Sect trackers.]
Qin Mo wiped blood from his eyes, turning toward the pass. Torches flickered over the rim, voices disciplined and cold—not common hunters, but sect killers, their blades hungry for his shard.
The shard pulsed, alien heat against his ribs. He gripped his blade tighter, the bells' chime echoing in his ears. He was not prey—not theirs, not the creature's, not the bells'.