The forest swallowed them whole.
Moonlight pierced the canopy in faint shafts, silver streaks glimmering across damp moss and tangled roots. Every step Luo Tian and Mei Yue took crunched faintly against the underbrush, though both moved with the caution of prey aware of the predator's breath on its neck.
Behind them, the ruined village lay in silence. Ahead, the wilderness stretched endlessly. And above, the scarlet moon hung still, its glow a reminder that the heavens had not forgotten him.
Luo Tian's body ached with every breath. His wounds from the last battles—against the hunters, the guardian, even the burial of the villagers—throbbed like molten iron in his veins. Yet he did not slow. His hands clenched, his broken soul threads burning faintly within his chest.
The golden Legacy Brand flickered at intervals, like a heartbeat that did not belong to him. Each pulse sent warmth coursing through his body, dulling his exhaustion but also drawing unseen eyes toward him.
They were already being hunted.
Mei Yue walked at his side, her cloak of midnight silk trailing faintly behind her. Her expression, as always, was calm—too calm, as though death itself sat on her shoulder whispering counsel.
"You should rest," she said at last, breaking the silence. Her voice was steady, but Luo Tian caught the faintest hint of concern buried beneath.
He shook his head. "Rest would mean giving them time to catch us. Every hunter they send grows stronger. If we stop, we die."
She glanced at him, her abyssal eyes unreadable. "You've grown arrogant quickly. A boy of the Thread Initiate Realm, thinking he can outrun the sect's Condensation disciples."
Her words cut, but Luo Tian did not flinch. "If Heaven itself couldn't kill me, neither will they."
Mei Yue's lips curved faintly, though it was not quite a smile. "Defiance. That is either your greatest weapon or the thread that will strangle you."
A faint rustle came from the east. Luo Tian froze, his crimson eyes narrowing. Threads shimmered faintly in his perception—thin strands of golden and silver light, cutting through the underbrush like lines on a tapestry. They trembled with killing intent.
"They're close," he whispered.
Mei Yue's fingers twitched, her black threads unraveling like serpents coiling around her hand. "Then let them come."
The first hunter appeared moments later, leaping from the shadows with a blade drawn. His eyes gleamed with greed as they locked onto the golden brand that faintly shone through Luo Tian's tattered robes.
"Kill him! The Legacy will be ours!"
Three more hunters followed, all clad in the sect's robes. Their threads blazed brightly—bronze and silver, proof they were already in the early stages of Condensation. Their confidence was palpable; to them, Luo Tian was still just a cripple crawling at the bottom of the loom.
But when Luo Tian raised his hand, silver and crimson threads bursting from his chest, the hunters hesitated. The air hummed with power, the forest itself trembling.
"Not prey," Luo Tian said softly. His voice carried like steel across the clearing. "Not anymore."
The first hunter lunged. His silver thread condensed into a spear of light, thrusting toward Luo Tian's chest.
Luo Tian sidestepped, his crimson thread lashing out. It coiled around the spear, snapping it mid-strike, and rebounded into the hunter's arm. Flesh tore, blood spattered the ground, and the man screamed.
Another charged from the flank. Mei Yue moved like a shadow, her black threads hissing through the night. They wrapped around the attacker's throat before he realized his mistake. His scream was cut short, his body collapsing in silence.
The remaining two circled warily, no longer eager to charge. One muttered in fear, "He's just an Initiate… how can he—"
The other snarled. "Shut up! He's wounded. Kill him now, or Wei Chen will flay us alive!"
At that name, Luo Tian's eyes sharpened. So… Wei Chen was behind this.
The hunters moved together, weaving their silver threads into a net that spread across the clearing. Its shimmer pulsed with the weight of Condensation, threads compact and sharp.
Luo Tian clenched his teeth. His own threads, raw and unstable, would not hold against it in direct clash. But he had something they did not: defiance.
He extended his hand. The silver and crimson strands twisted together, fraying and sparking as they resisted. His chest burned with agony as if his soul was being ripped apart. But he forced them tighter, weaving them into a jagged cord that hummed with unstable power.
"Break!" he roared, slamming it into the net.
The forest exploded with light. The net shattered, shards of thread scattering like broken glass. The hunters were thrown back, one slamming into a tree with a sickening crunch.
The last survivor scrambled to his feet, terror etched across his face. He bolted into the woods, screaming, "Wei Chen will kill you! You can't escape him!"
Luo Tian staggered, coughing blood. His threads flickered wildly, threatening to unravel. Mei Yue caught his arm, her cold aura steadying his trembling frame.
"You fool," she hissed. "You nearly tore your soul apart forcing that weave."
He smirked weakly. "But it worked."
Mei Yue studied him for a moment, then released her grip. Her gaze softened only slightly. "One day, that arrogance will kill you."
Luo Tian wiped the blood from his lips, his eyes hardening. "If it brings me one step closer to cutting the sect's leash, it's worth it."
Far away, in a camp nestled deep within the wilderness, Wei Chen sat before a roaring fire. His long hair was tied back, his sharp features illuminated by the flames. Around him knelt dozens of sect disciples, each trembling under his presence.
The survivor from the skirmish stumbled forward, bloodied and breathless. "Senior Brother Wei… we found him. But… he has the Loom's Legacy. He—he killed them all."
Silence.
Wei Chen's fingers brushed the hilt of his blade. Slowly, a cruel smile curved his lips.
"So it's true. The cursed cripple bears the Legacy." He rose, his aura spilling forth like a storm. Threads condensed around him—six in total—burning with dazzling clarity. They shimmered with the perfected stability of the Thread Condensation Realm.
The disciples lowered their heads, unable to withstand the pressure.
Wei Chen laughed softly, though it carried no warmth. "Good. Let him grow. Let him think he's escaping. The higher he climbs, the sweeter it will be to break him."
He lifted his blade, letting its reflection catch the firelight. His eyes gleamed with ambition and cruelty.
"When I drag him back to the sect, it won't just be his threads I sever. I'll take his eyes, his soul, and his Legacy. And the world will remember that Wei Chen was the one who crushed the boy cursed by Heaven."
Back in the forest, dawn painted the horizon with hues of crimson and gold. Luo Tian and Mei Yue reached a cliff overlooking the endless expanse of wilderness. The forest stretched like a sea of shadows, its mists curling like ghostly threads.
Luo Tian stood at the edge, his hands trembling from exhaustion, his chest burning with pain. Yet his eyes were steady, locked on the distant horizon.
"They'll keep coming," Mei Yue said softly, her voice almost lost in the wind.
"I know."
"They'll send stronger hunters. Even Wei Chen himself."
"I know."
She turned toward him, her abyssal eyes narrowing. "And when they do?"
Luo Tian clenched his fists, silver and crimson light flickering faintly between his fingers. "Then I'll sharpen my threads until even their Condensation crumbles. I may bleed. I may fall. But I'll never bow."
For a moment, Mei Yue studied him. Then, to his surprise, her lips curved into a faint smile—not mocking, not cold, but almost approving.
"Then sharpen them quickly," she murmured. "Because the hunter is already moving."
Far in the distance, beyond the endless canopy of trees, Wei Chen began his march into the wilderness. His six threads blazed like banners of conquest, each step echoing with killing intent.
The hunter had left his den.
And the boy cursed by Heaven was waiting.
The loom of destiny trembled.