The clearing was no longer silent.
The guardian's scream echoed like tearing silk, a sound that rattled the bones and pressed against the heart. The corrupted figure writhed forward, its form constantly shifting as if it were made of a thousand broken threads woven into one monstrous shape. Faces appeared and vanished within its tangled body—grim visages of despair, anger, and pain, all devoured by the endless twisting of strands.
The divine loom behind it pulsed faintly, the ghostly remnants of its ancient power stirring the guardian into motion. This was no living creature, nor was it truly dead—it was a remnant, a curse born from threads left to rot.
Luo Tian stood at the edge of the clearing, his chest heaving. The silver glow of his Life Thread pulsed faintly in his heart, while the silver-crimson hue of Resilience throbbed like a scar that refused to fade.
He had only two threads. The Third Thread, the shadow of Defiance, still hovered just beyond his reach.
But that didn't matter now. He couldn't afford to hesitate.
"Stay back," he said quietly to Ling Xi, his gaze never leaving the guardian.
Ling Xi's fingers tightened on his sleeve. "Tian ge, you're injured—"
"I can't let this thing near you," he interrupted, his voice firm. "My two threads are enough."
Ling Xi's lips trembled, but she nodded and stepped back, her Life Thread still pulsing faintly in readiness should she need to heal him.
The guardian surged forward. Its body lashed out in all directions, countless strands snapping like whips, each carrying enough force to slice through stone.
---
Luo Tian's instincts screamed. He darted aside, but a strand grazed his arm, tearing his sleeve and cutting into flesh. Blood spattered across the ground.
Too fast…
He clenched his teeth, forcing his Life Thread to flare. Silver light coursed through his veins, knitting flesh together before the wound could deepen. At the same time, his Resilience Thread pulsed, dulling the pain and hardening his muscles against the shock.
The guardian's strands slammed into the earth, carving deep furrows into the soil. Each blow trembled with ancient power, as though the wrath of the Weavers themselves lingered within it.
Luo Tian steadied his breathing. He couldn't win by dodging alone.
Think, Tian. Threads are not just power—they are tools. Weapons. Fabric to be woven.
He thrust his hand outward. His Life Thread unfurled, shimmering like silver silk, wrapping around one of the guardian's lashing strands. The two forces clashed, sparks of qi scattering like starlight. For an instant, the guardian's movement slowed.
"Now!"
With a twist of his wrist, Luo Tian pulled, weaving his Resilience Thread into the silver strand. The crimson tint spread along the silk, strengthening it, binding it tighter. With a sudden jerk, he redirected the guardian's own attack, forcing its strand to slice into another part of its body.
The guardian shrieked, its form shuddering as its own threads tore through its chest.
Luo Tian's eyes lit with realization. Yes… weaving threads together, redirecting force, binding one to another. That's how I fight.
---
But the guardian was relentless. It lunged again, its entire body unraveling into a storm of whips. Strands lashed in all directions, a storm of death.
Luo Tian gritted his teeth and thrust both threads outward. The silver of Life formed a barrier before him, while the crimson-tinted Resilience threaded through it, hardening it into a shield. Strands of light wove together in a lattice, shimmering like a half-formed tapestry.
The storm struck.
Each blow cracked against the shield, forcing Luo Tian backward step by step. His knees trembled, his breath ragged. Blood welled from his lips as the strain tore at his insides.
But the shield held.
When the last strike faded, Luo Tian let out a ragged laugh, wiping the blood from his chin. "So that's it. My threads aren't just weapons—they're armor, they're snares, they're anything I make them."
The guardian roared, furious. Its form writhed and condensed, pulling its threads together into a massive spear of woven light and shadow. With a screech that split the air, it hurled the spear toward him.
---
The world slowed.
Luo Tian's mind raced. If I block, I'll be crushed. If I dodge, Ling Xi will die. Then…
His eyes hardened. "Then I'll weave something stronger."
Both of his threads flared to their fullest. The silver glow of Life intertwined with the crimson Resilience, twisting together, knotting, spiraling. He didn't just weave them side by side—he merged them, binding their essence into a single strand.
It hurt. Agony ripped through his body as the incompatible powers ground against each other. His chest burned, blood dripping from his nose. But he endured, teeth clenched, every muscle trembling.
A new strand burst forth—a silver-crimson cord that pulsed with vitality and endurance, life that refused to break.
With a roar, Luo Tian lashed it forward. The merged strand wrapped around the incoming spear, coiling like a serpent. With a sharp twist, he yanked it aside, redirecting the deadly strike into the ground. The spear exploded, tearing a crater into the earth.
The backlash hurled Luo Tian off his feet, slamming him into the dirt. He coughed violently, blood splattering across the soil. But his eyes burned with determination as he forced himself back up.
---
The guardian staggered, its form unraveling from the redirected attack. Its strands flailed weakly, the glow within them dimming.
Luo Tian staggered forward, his chest heaving. He raised his hand one last time, silver-crimson light weaving between his fingers. With a sharp motion, he lashed the cord outward, slicing through the guardian's chest.
The corrupted threads screamed as they unraveled, dissolving into motes of light that scattered into the air.
Silence returned to the clearing.
Luo Tian stood in the center, trembling, drenched in sweat and blood. His vision blurred, but he remained on his feet.
Ling Xi rushed to him, tears welling in her eyes. "Tian ge! You—"
He cut her off with a faint smile. "I told you. Two threads are enough."
But as he spoke, his gaze flickered to the divine loom. Faint strands still shimmered there, and in the back of his mind, he felt it again—the phantom of the Third Thread, watching him, waiting.
Not yet, he thought. But soon. When I'm strong enough… I'll seize you.
---
That night, as they camped beneath the ruined loom, Luo Tian sat cross-legged, his body still trembling from exhaustion. Ling Xi tended to his wounds, her Life Thread weaving into his flesh, her expression soft yet determined.
"You pushed yourself too far," she whispered, her hands trembling as she worked. "One mistake, and you would have died."
Luo Tian opened his eyes, the silver-crimson glow still faint in his chest. "If I fear mistakes, I'll never move forward. The sect calls me cursed because they think my threads are flawed. But I'll prove them wrong. I'll weave something greater than they've ever imagined."
Ling Xi looked at him, her heart tightening at the fire in his eyes. "Then I'll stay by your side," she said softly. "No matter what fate says."
Luo Tian's gaze softened. For the first time since his exile, a warmth other than rage flickered in his chest.
But deep inside, he knew: the battle with the guardian was only the beginning. The Third Thread awaited, and beyond it, enemies far stronger than this cursed remnant.
The tapestry of his destiny was still being woven—and he would be the one to decide its pattern.