A second backlash hit.
Not a wave—
a collision.
Miasma slammed into Qiren from the ruptured array like a living wall. The air shrieked as it was displaced, pressure hammering into his chest and forcing his wings wide with a violent snap.
"—Ghk!"
He skidded backward across the stone, nails scraping, wings half-folded too late. Black fog rolled over him, swallowing light, sound, and breath. It clawed at his skin, seeped into his pores, screamed against his meridians like frostbitten needles.
Then—
WHIP—!
A vine lashed out of the haze.
It sliced past his face and grazed his shoulder wing, ripping through feathers in a burst of violet and gold. Heat flared instantly—searing, sharp.
"—Tch!"
Qiren twisted hard, the torn wing screaming in protest as he barely avoided a second strike. The vine embedded itself in the cave wall behind him with a thunderous crack, stone spiderwebbing outward from the impact.
More followed.
The circle on the floor convulsed.
Cracks spread through the blood-soaked sigils as thick roots forced their way out, splitting stone, tearing channels through the formation like veins bursting beneath skin. Tendrils coiled, snapped, and writhed blindly, striking at anything that moved.
And then—
Fire.
The vines ignited from within.
Crimson flames raced along their lengths, crawling over a swelling mass of branches as if hellfire itself had found new nerves to burn through. The air filled with the stench of scorched sap and corrupted incense.
One vine struck the ceiling, dragging molten rock down with it.
Another slammed into the floor beside Qiren, erupting into sparks and embers.
He staggered back, wings beating instinctively to keep his balance as flaming tendrils tore free of the circle and lashed wildly through the cave.
"…So that's it," he muttered hoarsely, eyes narrowed against the smoke and fire. "You've gone haywire and clawed your way all the way here."
Qiren smiled, gripping his coiled hair like a weapon.
The miasma thickened again, rolling low along the ground—hot now, violent, unstable.
The ritual hadn't ended.
It had lost its directive.
Space tore.
A fully formed berry shrub forced itself into reality, its branches heavy with multiple fruits. At its center sat a skinned skull, lashed in place by vine and sinew, torn limbs scattered throughout the burning growth.
"Shrrrk… shhhk… krsshh…"
The flaming bush rustled, then launched three tendrils toward him.
"Huh!"
Qiren snapped his wrist, whipping his coiled hair up to parry.
Clink!
The vines rang as if they'd struck iron, not reinforced strands of hair.
He twisted his wrist in a tight circle, locking the tendrils into the drill-like grooves of his weapon.
"You're not the only thing that can light up."
Blue light unfurled behind him, flowing like a ribbon over his shoulders. His Dao manifested—no longer suppressed by rain or exhaustion.
"Azure Drip."
The drill ignited with a lawless flame. It didn't just spread along the weapon—it dripped, flowing like water down the bamboo hilt and into the captured vines. They soaked it in greedily, letting the fire run wild, burning with the volatile hunger of gas-fed flame.
"Shrrrk… shhhk… krsshh…"
The skull-bush recoiled, its branches shrinking from the feral heat.
Qiren grinned, hands still wrapped around his weapon. "It's a shame you aren't fully present to witness your successful promotion into a stronger demon, my dear Rin-Tal~"
He wasn't taunting the mangled remains before him. This was demonic reverence—ecstasy born from accomplishing the impossible.
"Don't worry," he murmured. "I'll make sure your sacrifice wasn't in vain."
He snapped the ember-coated vines free and dashed—not straight ahead, but in a wide arc.
I don't have much Qi left. I'll have to end this fast—
Crimson tendrils shot out.
His eyes widened. He kicked off the ground and flew backward as roots tore themselves free with a grinding—
Krsshh.
The skull chittered, jaws cracking open. "You… you… y-you—!"
Blue and red flames clashed violently, the air screaming as opposing forces fought for dominance.
Qiren landed farther back as a heatwave erupted outward. The ground beneath the thing scorched black, stone glowing red-hot.
Its own body burned brighter, instability spiraling. Roots spread wide, dragging it forward inch by inch.
"Wimper! Wimper!"
The wolf bound near the formation caught fire as a root snared it. As Rin-Tal's new form lurched forward, she dragged the struggling beast close and bit into its neck. It thrashed helplessly, consumed by flame.
"You know," Qiren said calmly, eyes narrowed, "it's a little rude to steal someone else's property. Even if I planned to give you its soul, you still should have asked."
She tore out a chunk of flesh. Tendrils followed, ripping the wolf apart before devouring its soul completely.
Qiren watched in silence, then glanced down at the silver rings on his wrists.
This is a battle of attrition, he thought. Whoever lands the decisive blow first wins—before either of us runs dry.
He shook one ring loose from his left wrist.
"Now all I have to ask for is compensation."
He caught the bangle midair and flicked it toward the ceiling. Darkness spread where it passed, the air dimming unnaturally.
His Qi surged.
"How about you help me test something?" he said softly."I want to see just how far my control over misfortune goes~"
The darkness above the ring shuddered.
A dark pressure leaked out of it.
The silver ring embedded in the ceiling pulsed once—just once—and the stone answered.
A low, subterranean groan rolled through the cavern, deep enough to vibrate bone. Hairline fractures spiderwebbed across the ceiling directly over Rin-Tal's writhing form, dust sifting down like gray snow.
The skull snapped upward.
"—KRRK?"
Too late.
The rock gave way.
The ceiling collapsed in a thunderous roar, an entire section of the cavern shearing loose as if reality itself had lost its grip. Massive slabs of stone tore free and plummeted straight down, carrying stalactites and molten debris with them.
Rin-Tal screeched.
Roots shot upward in a desperate attempt to brace—but the falling mass was too dense, too absolute. The first impact crushed her upper branches flat, fire snuffed out beneath raw weight. A second slab followed immediately after, slamming down with enough force to crater the floor and send shockwaves ripping outward.
BOOOOM—!
The infernal shrub vanished beneath tons of collapsing rock, its flames extinguished in violent bursts of steam and ash. Blue and crimson light flickered once through the cracks—
Then went dark.
Dust surged outward, rolling across the ground in choking waves. The air filled with grit and the echo of grinding stone as rubble settled into place.
Silence followed.
Heavy. Final.
Qiren hovered back, wings beating slowly as debris rained past him.
He squinted through the haze, watching the collapsed ceiling settle into a jagged mound where Rin-Tal had stood moments before.
"…Misfortune truly is a catastrophe," he murmured, lowering himself to the ground.
A faint crrk sounded from deep within the rubble—roots twitching weakly before going still.
Qiren exhaled.
"Buried alive," he said quietly. "Crushed, sealed, and starved of directive."
His gaze flicked up to the darkened ceiling, then back to the ruin.
His wings widened, and the irises locked into place within their joints as his thermal sight activated.
The cave walls were pitch-black and cold, while the floor—scarred by his flames—and the buried mass that had crushed Rin-Tal still glowed with residual heat.
She wasn't completely dead yet.
He dashed forward, head in hand, drill-like hair still hardened as he stabbed it through a narrow gap in the debris. "Let's see you crawl out of that."
His hair sliced through stone and root alike, narrowly missing her skull before looping around the silver bangle buried with her remains.
It shimmered with a dark purple glow in his infrared vision—bad luck given form.
That was dangerous.
As he channeled the last drops of Qi he had into it, the surrounding vines reacted, writhing and pulling toward the bangle. His own hair tightened instinctively, trying to resist the pull.
Qiren expected the ground beneath him to collapse as well—misfortune answering misfortune.
Instead, the ceiling above the buried chamber gave way.
"—Tch!"
He moved instantly, wings snapping open as Rin-Tal's vines surged upward and the space above the rubble caved in a second time.
BOOOOM!
BOOM!
Stone thundered down in cascading slabs. Qiren leapt clear just as another wave of dust and debris slammed into the cavern floor behind him.
His hair softened into limp strands as his reserves finally ran dry.
Qiren brought his decapitated head back to his neck. Holding it separately would only be a liability now.
Slosh… slosh…
He shoved it firmly into place, adjusting the angle until it sat right.
When he looked back at the rubble, he paused.
Two souls drifted free from the collapsed pile, pale and wavering as they rose into the air.
He let out a quiet sigh of relief.
"I would've been impressed if you survived a second burial."
Qiren withdrew the remaining vines from his hair and slipped the silver bangle back onto his wrist.
Then—
The array on the floor flared.
One circle ignited. Then another.
Figures began to emerge from the circling miasma—demons stepping cautiously out of the formation, arm half-raised, eyes sharp with suspicion.
They didn't attack.
They froze instead.
Their gazes slid from Qiren's five wings—still half-spread, scorched and feathered in violet and gold—to the massive pile of collapsed stone behind him… and then to the two souls floating calmly above it.
The air grew tense.
Qiren felt their fear like a thin static.
Slowly, deliberately, he reached out and took the souls, drawing them into his grasp without breaking eye contact.
No one moved.
No one dared.
Once the souls were secured, Qiren turned away.
His wings beat once—twice—and he rose into the air, leaving the stunned demons behind as the array dimmed and the cavern fell quiet once more.