There was no explosion. The white-gold thread bored straight through his shield like a needle through cloth. It didn't dissipate. It kept going, aimed straight for his chest.
Panic flashed across Zhu Yan's face. He dove to the side, rolling across the marble. The fire-thread followed him, curving in mid-air. It was alive, an extension of Su Lan's will. He scrambled to his feet, hands blurring as he formed a series of complex seals. A wall of interlocking crimson fire runes materialized before him, a high-level defensive technique.
The white-gold thread touched the center rune.
The entire wall didn't shatter. It melted. The runes dissolved into dripping globs of harmless light that evaporated before they hit the ground. The thread, undiminished, continued.
