The wilderness had grown strange.
For three days and nights, Luo Tian, Ling Xi, and Mei Yue traveled northward through valleys choked with mist and ridges sharp as the backs of sleeping dragons. At first, the path had been familiar—forests dense with pines, rivers glittering beneath sunlight, birds singing at dawn. But now, a subtle distortion threaded the land.
The rivers bent in unnatural curves. Birds that should have flown south wheeled back north, their cries shrill and frantic. Even the beasts were uneasy—foxes froze when they saw Luo Tian, their eyes glowing faintly as if something tugged their instincts by unseen cords.
Luo Tian narrowed his eyes, pausing at the crest of a ridge. The silver and crimson threads in his chest pulsed faintly, resonating with the tremors in the world. He reached out, brushing the air, and gasped.
Threads shimmered faintly—dozens, hundreds—woven across the forest like invisible snares. They weren't natural. They weren't the great Loom of Heaven's weaving. These were deliberate, forced.
"They're herding us," Luo Tian muttered.
Ling Xi's eyes widened. "What do you mean?"
He pointed toward the valley below. "Look. The river's course bends against the slope—it should flow east, but instead it snakes north. The beasts, the birds… everything is being pushed in one direction. We're not wandering freely. We're being led."
Mei Yue's black eyes glimmered in the shadows of her hood. "Threadweavers," she said quietly. "The sect has dispatched disciples who specialize in fate-binding arrays. They're weaving nets through the land to drive you exactly where they want you."
Her tone was calm, but Luo Tian heard the edge beneath it. Even she—an assassin who wielded death itself—was wary of such techniques.
Ling Xi's face paled. "Then we should turn back before—"
"No." Luo Tian's voice cut through her words like steel. "If we run in circles forever, we'll only collapse from exhaustion. A net is strongest when it is unseen. But once you know it's there…" He clenched his fists, silver light sparking around his knuckles. "You can cut it."
Mei Yue tilted her head, studying him. "So stubborn. Tell me, Luo Tian—does your strength come from defiance, or desperation?"
Luo Tian met her gaze without flinching. "Both. Desperation keeps me alive. Defiance gives me the will to keep walking. In the end, it doesn't matter which it is. What matters is that I refuse to break."
For the first time, Mei Yue's lips curved into the faintest ghost of a smile. "A dangerous answer. Perhaps that's why you unsettle me."
They descended into a narrow gorge as dusk settled. The cliffs rose like jagged fangs on either side, blotting out the sun until only a narrow strip of sky remained above. Mist pooled at the bottom, chilling the air.
Luo Tian walked ahead, his senses sharp. Every step felt heavier, as though invisible hands tugged at his ankles. The silver and crimson threads in his chest quivered in warning.
Ling Xi stayed close behind, her hand never straying far from his sleeve. Mei Yue followed at a distance, her black threads coiled lazily around her fingers, ready to strike if danger appeared.
The gorge grew darker. The air pressed tighter.
Then Luo Tian saw it.
Scarlet threads stretched across the path ahead, faint as cobwebs, yet blazing in his sight like rivers of fire. They pulsed with an arrogant rhythm, vibrating with murderous intent.
His breath hitched. He knew those threads. He had seen them in his vision at the Loom.
Wei Chen.
Far away, atop another ridge, Wei Chen stood with his arms folded, his crimson cloak fluttering in the evening breeze. His eyes gleamed with cruel amusement as he watched the gorge below.
"Run, little stray," he murmured. "Run deeper into the trap. The more you struggle, the more threads will bind you."
A hunter knelt beside him, trembling. "Young Master Wei, the net is ready. Shall we close it now?"
Wei Chen smirked, shaking his head. "Not yet. Prey tastes sweetest when it believes it has a chance of escape. Let him cut at the threads. Let him bleed himself dry. When he thinks he's free…" His hand closed into a fist. "That is when I will strike."
The hunter bowed low, shivering at the malice in his tone.
Wei Chen's crimson threads pulsed brighter, weaving through the gorge like a predator's fangs closing around its meal.
Back in the gorge, Luo Tian halted abruptly, his eyes narrowing. "We've reached the heart of it."
Ling Xi looked around nervously, unable to see the crimson threads that glared so clearly in his sight. "I don't… I don't see anything."
"You're not meant to," Luo Tian said grimly. "This isn't a trap of stone and rope. It's a trap of destiny itself. If we walk forward blindly, our threads will be bound, and our lives will unravel."
Mei Yue stepped forward, her black threads unfurling like snakes. They writhed in the mist, brushing against the scarlet cords ahead. Sparks hissed where death touched fate.
Her eyes gleamed. "These are no ordinary bindings. Whoever wove them is powerful. His intent saturates every strand."
"Can you cut them?" Luo Tian asked.
She tilted her head. "Perhaps. But not without risk. When you cut another's weaving, they feel it. Whoever spun these threads will know we resisted."
"Then let him know." Luo Tian's voice was iron. "If he wants to bind me, he'll learn that I bite back."
Ling Xi's hand trembled, but she forced herself to steady her voice. "Tian ge… please be careful. If this is truly Wei Chen…"
Luo Tian met her worried gaze and forced a faint smile. "I won't fall here. I promised you I'd walk until the sect crumbles. That promise still stands."
He stepped forward, raising his hand. Silver and crimson light flared, his two threads uncoiling like blades.
The scarlet cords ahead quivered, as though mocking him.
"Then let's see whose weaving is stronger," Luo Tian growled.
He slashed.
The gorge erupted with light.
Silver clashed with scarlet, sparks bursting in the mist like fireflies. The air screamed as threads snapped and recoiled. Invisible shockwaves rippled down the gorge, shattering stones and sending dust cascading from the cliffs.
Ling Xi shielded her face, her heart pounding as she watched Luo Tian battle against threads no one else could see. His body trembled with strain, blood dripping from his nose, but his eyes burned with unyielding fire.
Mei Yue's expression was unreadable, but her black threads stirred, ready to strike if he faltered.
The scarlet cords writhed like serpents, tightening, pressing, seeking to strangle his silver and crimson light. But Luo Tian roared, forcing his two threads together, weaving them into a fused cord of blazing brilliance.
With a final surge, he cut through.
The scarlet cords snapped, dissolving into smoke. The gorge shuddered, the oppressive weight lifting for a moment.
Luo Tian staggered, his knees buckling. Ling Xi rushed forward, catching him as he collapsed.
"You did it!" she gasped, relief flooding her face.
Luo Tian wiped the blood from his lips, his chest heaving. "No… not yet. This was only the edge of the net. The true hunter hasn't revealed himself."
He raised his eyes to the sky, where the last rays of dusk bled crimson. For an instant, he felt it—a presence watching, threads coiled like a predator in the dark.
Wei Chen.
Their fates were drawing together, tighter and tighter, until collision was inevitable.
Far above, Wei Chen's smirk widened. He felt the sting of resistance, the faint tug as his scarlet cords were severed.
"So… the cripple dares bite." He licked his lips. "Good. The more he resists, the sweeter his despair will taste when I break him."
The Loom's shadow stretched across the land, threads tightening into a noose.
And in the gorge below, Luo Tian knew: the storm was coming.