The air in the bedroom grew thick with the smell of ozone and the metallic tang of Han Sen's own blood. His vision was tunneling, the edges of the room turning into a blurry grey haze. Every time a thread pierced the girl's soul, a jolt of agony shot through his own nerves.
[HP: 1/10]
[Warning: Host is at critical threshold. Death is imminent.]
Han Sen's hand shook, but he did not pull back. He could feel the final shard of Zhao Ling's soul: a tiny, flickering spark that was drifting toward the ceiling. If he lost that piece, the girl would be a hollow shell forever.
He forced his mind into a state of absolute, icy focus. He didn't feel the floor beneath his feet or the cold sweat drenching his back. He only felt the vibration of the soul-thread.
Thrum.
He snapped the final filament. The ten threads converged, pulling the shattered fragments of the girl's spirit into a single, glowing core. A sudden wave of warmth exploded from her chest, washing over the room.
[Ding! Soul-Stitching Complete.]
[Zhao Ling's Soul Integrity: 100%]
Han Sen collapsed. He didn't hit the floor with a thud: he caught himself on the edge of the bed, his lungs burning as he gasped for air. He was a Level 1 human who had just wrestled with the laws of the afterlife.
The heavy doors to the chamber burst open. Lord Zhao charged in, his Level 75 aura so intense it cracked the marble floorboards near the entrance. Behind him, Grandmaster Mo and Alchemist Zhou scrambled to keep up.
Lord Zhao didn't look at Han Sen. He grabbed his daughter's hand, his eyes wild with fear.
Zhao Ling's eyelids fluttered. The pale, deathly grey of her skin vanished, replaced by a soft, healthy flush. She took a deep, clear breath and opened her eyes.
"Father?" she whispered. Her voice was weak, but it was the voice of a living person.
The silence that followed was absolute. Lord Zhao, a man who could level a city block with a single punch, began to tremble. He pulled his daughter into a tight embrace, his eyes damp with a relief that bypassed words.
Grandmaster Mo stood by the door, his jaw hanging open. He looked at the girl, then at Han Sen, who was still slumped against the bedframe, coughing into his hand.
"He... he actually did it," Mo whispered.
Alchemist Zhou's face was a mask of pure, ugly shock. He looked at Han Sen as if the boy were a ghost. "No. This is impossible. A Level 1... he must have used a forbidden demonic art!"
Lord Zhao turned his head. The "Gaze" he directed at Zhou was like a falling mountain. The sheer pressure of his killing intent forced Zhou to his knees, the floor cracking beneath the disciple's weight.
"Silence," Lord Zhao growled. His voice was no longer a rumble: it was a thunderclap.
The Lord stood up and walked toward Han Sen. He looked down at the pale, battered boy. The predatory aggression was gone, replaced by a heavy, profound respect.
"You saved her," Lord Zhao said. He didn't offer a handshake. He bowed his head, a gesture that would have sent shockwaves through the entire empire if anyone had seen it.
"I did what I was paid for," Han Sen said, his voice a dry rasp. He wiped the blood from his lip and stood up, his legs shaking.
[HP: 1/10]
[Status: Extreme Fragility. Recommendation: Sleep.]
"Tell me what you want," Lord Zhao said. "Gold? Titles? A sect of your own? Speak, and it is yours."
Han Sen looked at Zhou, who was still trembling on the floor. Then he looked back at the City Lord.
"I don't want your gold," Han Sen said. "I want the Heavenly Beast Sect's records on the Abyssal Gold-Maned Lion. And I want a laboratory where no one, not even you, can enter without my permission."
Lord Zhao nodded once. "It is done. And for the one who insulted you..."
The Lord looked back at Zhou.
"Zhou, you are stripped of your alchemist rank and exiled from Willow Creek. If I see your face within my walls again, I will feed you to the hounds."
The face-slap was final. Zhou let out a pathetic whimper as the guards dragged him away, his expensive robes trailing in the dust.
Han Sen didn't watch him go. He felt the world tilting. He leaned against the pillar, his eyes closing as the darkness finally claimed him. He had won the arc, but his 1 HP body had finally reached its limit.