The blood was a river now, a dark red path tracing the grooves of the ancient array. It wasn't just Lu Cang's hands. It was his life, his foundation, pouring out to ground the storm Lin Tian was channeling.
He's burning out his core. For us.
The thought cut through the hurricane of pain. It was a clean, cold spike of clarity. The guardian's shadow fell over Lu Cang's kneeling form, the dark shard rising for a killing thrust.
"No."
Lin Tian didn't shout. The word was a low, guttural thing, ripped from a place deeper than his dantian. He felt the System's panic, its flashing warnings.
WARNING: Anchor vessel integrity at 23%. Catastrophic spiritual collapse imminent. Recommend: Sever external bonds to stabilize host.
Sever the bonds. The solution was a sterile, surgical amputation. Cut the lines to Xueya, to Su Lan, to Yan Jiao, to Yue Chan. Save himself, let Lu Cang die, let them all be picked apart by the trap.
Never.
