A whip of ice caught Xiyue's sleeve, dragging him back. Feng Lian struck the attacker down with a burst of searing flame, but three more slipped through, their eyes fixed on Ruo Han.
The hum in his chest turned into a pounding roar.
Not his heartbeat — something older, deeper. The Heaven's Vein pulsed like a river trapped under ice, pressing, pressing— until it broke.
The floor lit up beneath him, a lattice of silver veins spreading from his feet like roots through the wood. The Frostpeak disciples stumbled back, their blades trembling as the air thickened with raw spiritual pressure.
It wasn't heat. It wasn't cold.
It was both — the balance of opposing forces made into something sharper than steel.
One of them managed to speak.
Frostpeak Disciple: "It's true… he's the Vessel—"
The word barely left their lips before silver light erupted, slamming them against the walls as if the mountain itself had decided to breathe.
Xiyue was at his side in an instant, sword lowered, eyes locked on him — not with fear, but with something fiercer.
Xiyue: "Ruo Han…"
Feng Lian, still standing, brushed frost from his hair and laughed low in his throat.
Feng Lian: "And here I thought you were just a pretty face."
The silver light began to fade, but the vein-lines in the floor still glowed faintly, pulsing with his breath. Ruo Han swayed, exhaustion hitting all at once. Xiyue caught him before he could fall.
Xiyue (to Feng Lian): "We move. Now."
Feng Lian: "For once, I agree."
Outside, more footsteps approached — heavier, more numerous. Whoever wanted Ruo Han… hadn't sent their full force yet.
And now they knew exactly what he could do.