The forest was too quiet.
Luo Tian's boots sank into the damp earth with each step, leaving faint imprints along the overgrown trail. The canopy above blocked the moonlight, swallowing the wilderness in a shroud of shadow. Insects should have been singing, and beasts should have been stirring in the distance, but the silence pressed against his ears like a suffocating blanket.
Mei Yue moved ahead, her steps light as mist. Her black threads curled lazily around her fingers, twitching like restless serpents, as though sensing the danger that words could not describe.
Ling Xi hovered faintly behind Luo Tian, her translucent form glowing like a candle in the gloom. Her silver eyes swept the darkness, sharp and unyielding.
Something was wrong.
"Why is it so still?" Luo Tian whispered. His voice was little more than a rasp, his chest still raw from the wounds of past battles.
Mei Yue did not turn. "Because we are not the hunters tonight," she said softly. "We are the prey."
Her words sent a cold tremor down Luo Tian's spine.
Far behind, hidden in the folds of the forest, Wei Chen stood at the heart of his encampment. His eye gleamed like polished steel as he gazed at the woven map of threads stretched across the ground before him. Dozens of disciples knelt in reverence, maintaining the shimmering strands that traced rivers, paths, and valleys across the forest.
A cruel smile tugged at Wei Chen's lips.
"Do you see this?" he said softly, his tone dripping with mockery. "The stray thinks he runs free, but every step he takes tugs at my loom. His fate is not his own. It belongs to me."
The disciples bowed lower, their voices trembling in unison. "Yes, Senior Brother."
Wei Chen's hand hovered above the map, fingers brushing against a glowing line representing the river ahead. "Drive him there. The current will break his body, and my blades will take his head. He may dance for a while, but every thread snaps eventually."
His laugh echoed coldly across the camp.
By dawn, Luo Tian and Mei Yue emerged into a clearing. Before them stretched a wide river, its waters swollen with spring rains. The current churned violently, throwing up waves that glittered faintly under the pale morning light. Fallen branches and jagged stones jutted from the surface, making the crossing treacherous.
Luo Tian's brows furrowed. "We'll have to swim."
Mei Yue's eyes narrowed. "No. This place stinks of a trap."
Before Luo Tian could reply, the forest behind them erupted with motion. Figures burst from the undergrowth—disciples of the sect, clad in dark robes, threads flashing between their hands like drawn blades.
The ambush had sprung.
"Go!" Mei Yue hissed, shoving Luo Tian forward.
He barely had time to summon his silver and crimson threads before the first wave of enemies descended. Their threads lashed out like whips, slicing through air and tearing bark from trees. Luo Tian countered with a crude fusion of his own, forming a cord that clashed against theirs in sparks of light.
The ground shook with the clash of threads. The forest filled with the sharp crack of qi tearing wood and stone.
Mei Yue moved like a shadow among them. Her black silk shot outward, precise and merciless, wrapping around throats and severing threads with each flick of her wrist. Blood spattered the riverbank, darkening the soil.
But there were too many.
Luo Tian's breath came heavy. His wounds screamed with every movement, and his fusion strained his soul. His silver thread of life and crimson thread of resilience clashed violently as he forced them together, sparks tearing at his chest.
One disciple lunged with a spear formed entirely of thread. Luo Tian twisted aside, but the tip grazed his ribs, slicing through flesh. Blood gushed hot across his side.
Pain seared his vision red.
The world slowed.
And there it was again.
A black-crimson strand flickered at the edge of his soul, wild and jagged, pulsing with defiance. It hissed like a serpent, whispering promises of strength if only he would seize it.
His hand twitched toward it instinctively—
But the moment he reached, it recoiled, slipping deeper into the Loom's depths. The pain of rejection ripped through him, doubling him over.
The spear came again.
Luo Tian roared, forcing his silver and crimson threads to fuse once more. The unstable cord screamed, cracking with power as he whipped it across the riverbank. It smashed into the ground, collapsing part of the bank and sending several disciples tumbling into the torrent.
The river swallowed them, dragging their screams downstream.
The survivors regrouped, circling. Their faces were pale, their formation tighter now, but their eyes gleamed with hunger. Luo Tian staggered back, his breath ragged, sweat dripping from his brow.
"Luo Tian!" Mei Yue snapped, cutting down another disciple with a flick of her wrist. "You're tearing yourself apart! Stop fusing like that!"
He bared his teeth, blood staining them crimson. "If I stop… we die."
For a heartbeat, Mei Yue faltered.
She had seen many cultivators—arrogant geniuses, ruthless killers, proud prodigies. None of them fought like this. None of them burned their very souls to grasp victory.
Her assassin's heart whispered that she should not care. That her mission was only to observe, to test, perhaps to kill him if ordered.
But as she watched him stagger forward again, threads bleeding light from his very skin, she felt something tighten in her chest.
What kind of man throws away his life so willingly for defiance alone?
And why does that stubbornness make me want to fight beside him?
The disciples pressed harder, threads lashing in unison. Luo Tian's fusion snapped, exploding in sparks that seared his arms. He fell to one knee, vision swimming.
"Damn it—"
Mei Yue grabbed him by the shoulder. "Move!"
With a single leap, she dragged him into the river. Cold water swallowed them instantly, the current tearing at their bodies.
Threads lashed into the water behind them, slicing waves apart, but Mei Yue's black silk shielded them, deflecting the worst of the strikes. Luo Tian forced his silver thread outward, creating a shimmering bubble of life-thread qi around them, barely enough to keep them from being crushed by the current.
They tumbled through the river, battered by stones, lungs burning. Finally, they washed onto the far bank, coughing and gasping.
The disciples hesitated to follow. The collapsed bank and raging current had broken their formation. They vanished back into the trees, regrouping under Wei Chen's unseen orders.
Luo Tian collapsed on the grass, clutching his side. Blood soaked through his robes, mingling with river water. Ling Xi appeared beside him, her face pale with worry. She pressed her glowing hands against his chest, slowing the bleeding.
"Idiot," Mei Yue hissed, kneeling beside him. "You'll be dead before you even reach Wei Chen if you keep this up."
Luo Tian coughed, a ragged smile twisting his lips. "Then I'll just have to reach him faster."
Her abyssal eyes locked on his. For once, her cold mask cracked, revealing something almost like fear.
"You're going to kill yourself," she whispered.
"Maybe," he rasped, closing his eyes. "But I won't stop. Not until every chain they've woven is broken."
For a long moment, Mei Yue said nothing. Then she rose, turning her gaze toward the north. Her black threads flickered restlessly in the air.
"Then I'll walk with you," she murmured. "Until you prove whether your defiance is strength… or madness."
Far above, on a cliff overlooking the forest, Wei Chen stood with his arms folded. His six condensed threads shimmered behind him like blades of pure light, cutting the morning air.
From this height, he could see the river's churn, the faint figures of Luo Tian and Mei Yue staggering from the water.
His lip curled.
"Run, little cripple," he whispered, his voice carried by the wind. "Run deeper into the abyss. The tighter you struggle, the sweeter it will be when your thread snaps."
The forest shivered, as if echoing his malice.
And somewhere in the depths, the Thread Abyss stirred, waiting for the prey to enter its maw.