Lin Yi’s breath crashed against his teeth, shattering into particles tasting of rust. The fierce wind scraped like a blunt knife across the exposed black rock face of the “Heaven’s Path Summit.” The air was thin; every inhalation felt like swallowing glass shards. At the edge of his vision, invisible threads of silver rules descended from the firmament, dense as a net, each one drawing away the boiling “Defying Fate” power within him. A sharp pain struck his left shoulder first. He turned sideways as a sword aura, condensed into near-solidity, grazed his protective qi, plowing a bloody furrow across his shoulder blade. The spray of blood mist was immediately shredded by the gale. It was Xiao Han. The jade thumb ring on Lin Yi’s thumb abruptly tightened. He did not retreat. Instead, he faced the oncoming sword aura, his left hand forming a sword-finger, and stabbed swiftly against the grain of the silver rule threads. A faint, almost inaudible crack sounded, and three descending silver threads snapped in response. In the instant the pressure slightly eased, his figure shifted half a step like a phantom, completely shielding Su Wanqing and Yun Zhi behind him in a dead angle. The robes of Master Xuan Yin flapped loudly as he changed his hand seals. The “Order Executes Evil Array” blazed with light, the auras of the six elders now completely linked as one, turning this summit into a constantly contracting cage. Xiao Han spoke, his voice clear and peaceful, as if greeting an old friend after a long absence. “This peak overlooks all living beings, the rules like a net. A Defying Fate here… is akin to a moth flying into the flame.” His fingertips tapped lightly against his thigh. Once, twice, thrice. The rhythm pressed against the heartbeat. The old wound on his shoulder began to ache faintly — left by Xiao Han’s “Frozen River Sword Intent” during their last palm strike. The power of the rules felt like ice worms, still burrowing into the seams of his bones. Su Wanqing was trembling slightly. Pressed against the rock wall, her face pale, her eyes fixed dead ahead. Yun Zhi stood half a step in front and to her side, idly playing with a strand of her hair, the corner of her lips holding her habitual, lazy, and aloof smile. But Lin Yi saw her knuckles were clenched too tight, white as bone. “Damn it… suffocating!” Shi Meng growled in a low voice, muscles bulging. “Brother Lin, what’s the plan? Just watch?” Lin Yi could feel the stagnation of space. The flow of spiritual power grew slower and slower, as if moving through glue. The web of silver threads became a fraction clearer, the draining force intensifying. A fine stinging pain spread across his skin, as if countless needles were pricking him simultaneously. Master Xuan Yin straightened his collar, impeccable to the last detail. He raised his eyes, his gaze like judgment. “Defying Fate Lin Yi, you bear the mark of the Heavenly Path, repeatedly violate its rules, delude fellow cultivators, your sins reaching to the heavens.” His voice boomed solemnly, exploding through the fierce wind. “Today, upon this peak, the Heavenly Path is radiant, granting you the dissipation of your Dao and the death of your body — this is the will of Heaven, the necessity of Order.” He did not charge at Xiao Han, nor did he attempt to break the array. Instead, he took three steps to the left, raised his right arm, and the “Defying Fate” power surged from his palm, condensing into the phantom of a dark, heavy spear. The spear tip pointed not at the array’s core, but at the grey-robed elder at the weakest point among the six corners. The grey-robed elder’s pupils constricted sharply. He urgently formed hand seals, a protective cyan light flaring around him. The auras of the elders at the other five corners linked in response, the array’s pressure crashing down on Lin Yi like a collapsing mountain. Lin Yi flicked his wrist. The spear phantom disintegrated. The dissipated energy did not scatter. Instead, it writhed like a living thing, tracing a distorted arc through the air along the path of his previous movement — the arc’s end precisely at the node where the auras of three elders interconnected. He had calculated their reaction, calculated the inertia of the array’s linkage, calculated that minuscule delay. The dissipated energy detonated at the node. No deafening roar, only a dull, muffled sound akin to a rupturing organ. The qi connection between the three elders was disrupted in response, the array’s operation stuttering for a split second. This was the stutter he Seeing Yun Zhi block in front of Su Wanqing, a short blade appearing in her hand at some unknown moment, its edge flowing with illusory light. Seeing Xuan Yin Zhenren seal again, the collapsed corner of the formation slowly repairing itself. The silver wire net grew denser, the draining force like a water pump, relentlessly pulling the "Fate Reversal" power from his body. Lin Yi’s fingertips were still lightly tapping. But the rhythm was thrown off. He forced himself to think — where was the flaw? Xiao Han’s weakness? The formation’s life gate? A loophole in the rule network? Not a scream of fear, but a warning. Lin Yi jerked his head around, seeing an almost transparent ice spear shooting from the shadows to the side, its target directly Su Wanqing’s throat. Yun Zhi’s short blade swung out, colliding with the ice spear, emitting a sharp shattering sound. The real killing intent came from overhead. Xiao Han, at some unknown moment, was already hovering in the air, his right hand held empty as if gripping something, a sword completely woven from rule silver wires taking shape. The tip pointed downward, locked precisely on the crown of Lin Yi’s head. The rock beneath Lin Yi’s feet cracked. His knees went weak, almost buckling. The ice flower on his shoulder bloomed more and more profusely, the frozen area expanding to half his chest. His breath turned to white mist, freezing right at the edge of his lips. Xiao Han’s voice came from above, still calm, yet carrying a certain finality. "This is where your path ends and your body perishes. The Heavenly Dao is grand and luminous; how can it be shaken by an ant?" Slow, cruelly slow. With every inch of descent, the rule network brightened, the draining force intensified twofold. Lin Yi heard his own bones groaning under the pressure. Black spots began to appear in his vision. Then came the sound of frantic footsteps. Heavy, chaotic, carrying a momentum that defied all odds. Lin Yi mustered all his strength to turn his eyeballs, seeing Shi Meng, drenched in blood, shove aside the obstruction of an elder, charging toward them like a burning meteor. Not toward Xiao Han, nor toward Lin Yi. But toward the very core of the formation — where Xuan Yin Zhenren stood. "Goddamn it!" Shi Meng roared as he charged, his voice hoarse yet fierce, "This is suffocating! Brother Lin, watch closely—!" The skin all over his body turned completely dark red. From his pores seeped not sweat, but a bloody mist. His aura climbed frantically, breaking through limits, breaking through again, his body swelling as if inflated. Burning everything that could be burned, in exchange for the strength of three last breaths. Xuan Yin Zhenren’s face changed drastically. He urgently formed hand seals, layers upon layers of protective light shields brightening around him. But Shi Meng didn’t dodge or evade. With a wild laugh, he used his shoulder, his head, his entire burning body— "Brother!" At the last moment, he turned his head, looked at Lin Yi, grinned, his mouth full of blood, "Remember to buy me a drink—!" Not the red of flame, but the red of blood. The explosion’s shockwave was like an invisible giant beast, opening its bloody maw, swallowing the formation’s core, swallowing Xuan Yin Zhenren’s figure, swallowing everything within a radius of ten zhang. His pupils reflected that spreading crimson. His ears filled with the lingering echoes of the explosion, and Shi Meng’s last hoarse roar, carrying a laugh. He saw the bloody mist churning in the fierce wind, scattering, leaving nothing behind within. Shi Meng, with everything he had, blasted open a path, bought three breaths of respite. He stood there, the ice flower on his shoulder still spreading, half his body numb with cold. But deep in his heart, something cracked. Not a wound. Something deeper. But he stared fixedly at that gradually fading crimson, at Xuan Yin Zhenren’s figure stumbling out from the aftermath of the explosion, his Taoist robe tattered, at Xiao Han’s slightly furrowed brow due to the formation’s disturbance. Before the next moment arrived — before the crimson completely dissipated — before the ice flower froze his heart. But in his heart, to that emptiness, to that brother who would never drink again, he said one thing: Shi Meng’s roar still echoed in the fierce wind, the bloody mist not yet fully settled. Lin Yi’s fingertips dug into his palms, warm liquid seeping out. Not the cold sting of rule power, but pure, scalding pain. His vision was scorched by that bloody red, leaving a brief afterimage. He forced himself to blink, each blink like scraping sand "Master Lin." A voice sounded directly in his and Su Wanqing's minds, speaking at an extremely rapid pace, carrying the unique, slightly husky magnetism of Yun Zhi. "Listen well. Brother Shi Meng has opened a path, but it's not enough. The core of the formation is on that 'Mountain-Suppressing Armor' worn by the old Daoist Xuan Yin. Xiao Han is the formation eye, and also the anchor of the 'Heavenly Dao' in this place." Yun Zhi's figure had somehow drawn close to their side. She didn't look at Lin Yi, her gaze fixed on the enemies ahead who were quickly regrouping. The corner of her mouth even held a trace of her usual, lazy smile. But that smile was too faint, like a candle flame about to be extinguished. "I can weave a 'Tomb'." She continued her mind transmission, each word as clear as if carved with a knife. "To trap the perceptions of all of them for ten breaths. Within those ten breaths, everything they see, hear, and perceive will be the 'reality' I give them. But the suppression of the 'Heavenly Dao'... I cannot tear an opening. That requires a different 'key'." Su Wanqing jerked her head to look at her, lips trembling. "Sister Yun, you—" "My soul," Yun Zhi interrupted her, her voice as light as a sigh, "was already shattered once. Burning it again isn't much of a pity." She finally turned her face slightly, glancing at Lin Yi. That gaze was transparent to the bottom, without fear, without attachment, only a kind of near-resolute calm. "Master Lin, remember. Truth often hides deepest within the heart's image. My illusion won't trap the 'Heavenly Dao' for long, but it's enough... to tear open a crack in the 'heart'." She paused, and the mind transmission carried a hint of an extremely faint, almost imperceptible smile. Something choked Lin Yi's throat. He wanted to say "no," to grab her, to find a third path—just like countless times before. But the gears of reason spun wildly in his mind, calculating distance, time, the shifts in enemy auras, the speed of the formation's re-condensation. The cold stream of data told him: there was no third path. The three-breath window Shi Meng had bought with his life was rapidly fading. Xiao Han's fingers had already begun to form seals anew, the runes on Xuan Yin Zhenren's Mountain-Suppressing Armor growing brighter and brighter. Yun Zhi's choice was the only possibility of creating a "battle opportunity" within ten breaths. His fist clenched until the knuckles turned white, fingernails completely piercing the flesh. Blood dripped down between his fingers, splattering small, dark spots on the gray-white rock. He stared at Yun Zhi, trying to find a trace of hesitation or wavering in her eyes. There was none. Only a tranquil, about-to-dissipate lake. "Don't..." Su Wanqing's tears rolled down. She reached out, trying to grab Yun Zhi's sleeve. Yun Zhi lightly avoided it. She raised her hands, ten slender fingers beginning to form seals. The movements were not fast, but carried a rhythm like flowing water, her fingertips tracing through the air, leaving faint, almost invisible silver trails. Those trails were not like spiritual power—lighter, more ethereal, like spider silk in the morning light, or the border of a dream about to vanish. A scent began to permeate the air. Very faint. At first whiff, like aged sandalwood, serene and peaceful; upon closer sniff, there was an extremely clear, cold fragrance, similar to the moment a night-blooming cereus blossoms. That scent drilled into his nostrils, strangely calming Lin Yi's thoughts, which were boiling with agony and grief, for a fleeting moment. "Weaving Dream... Tomb." Yun Zhi murmured these three words aloud. Not a mind transmission, but a true, breathy whisper. It wasn't an explosion, nor a burning. It was a tranquil, almost elegant dissipation. Crystalline light particles, carrying a warm white glow, began to peel away from her fingertips, wrists, arms... drifting into the air. More and more light points appeared, denser and denser, like a reversed snowfall, rising from the ground towards the sky. The smile on her face finally faded completely, leaving only focus. As if she wasn't marching towards death, but merely completing a work into which she had poured her heart and soul. Lin Yi watched those light points. Each one seemed to reflect fragmented scenes—perhaps fireworks from a certain night of a destroyed family in Yun Zhi's memory, perhaps the habitual sneer at the corner of her mouth when she sold information in the shadows, perhaps even older, blurred fragments of warmth from a long-gone Then, her figure was completely swallowed by the specks of light. The last to vanish were those eyes that always held a lazy smile. They looked at Lin Yi, clear and resolute, then turned into the two brightest points of starlight, swiftly rising into the heights. No sound, no shockwave. But the entire scene of the "Summit of Heavenly Dao" warped. The howling of the fierce winds became distant and muffled, as if separated by a thick pane of frosted glass. The gray-white rocky ground rippled like water. The figures of Xiao Han, Master Xuan Yin, and the other elders instantly multiplied into countless overlapping shadows, their movements turning sluggish and bizarre, as if struggling in viscous glue. Even the invisible web of silver rules in the air showed fine, rippling undulations, its suppressing power clearly faltering. Ten breaths. The ten breaths of illusion Yun Zhi bought with her annihilation of both form and spirit. Lin Yi's heart felt as if gripped by an icy hand, then wrenched violently. The pain was sharp and hollow. But he had no time for grief. He forced the emotion that nearly tore his chest apart down, deep into the marrow of his bones, compressing it into a cold, hard lump of iron. His gaze sharpened like an unsheathed blade, instantly locking onto the most uncoordinated, overlapping shadow in the illusion—Master Xuan Yin. The wound of rules on his shoulder still stung, but the illusion's interference with the "Heavenly Dao" suppression caused the nearly exhausted "Contrary Fate" power within him to stir with a faint, searing ripple once more. No shout, no wind-up. Like a bowstring stretched to its limit suddenly released, his body transformed into a blurry afterimage, tearing through the viscous air, lunging straight for his target. All calculations, all rage, all grief, condensed in that moment into the simplest, most direct action—charge, kill. Su Wanqing's sobs were twisted by the illusion into intermittent whimpers. She did not look in the direction of Lin Yi's assault. Her tears fell in large drops, splashing on the icy ground, but her trembling hands, with astonishing steadiness, continued forming that complex and dangerous seal. A milky-white glow seeped from her fingertips, growing brighter and brighter, carrying a pure yet heart-palpitating fluctuation. Her lips moved silently, chanting something, her gaze passing over the distorted battlefield, fixed on the empty apex of the "Summit of Heavenly Dao." There, it seemed something... was being faintly tugged by her seal. **Exit Status:** Yun Zhi burned her soul, unleashing the ultimate illusion "Weaver's Dream Tomb," paying the price of her own destruction to trap Xiao Han, Master Xuan Yin, and all other enemies for ten breaths, and briefly interfering with the suppression of the "Heavenly Dao rules." Lin Yi suppressed immense grief, seized the opportunity to assault Master Xuan Yin. Su Wanqing, tears streaming down her face, resolutely continued forming an unknown dangerous seal, seemingly establishing some connection with the "Summit of Heavenly Dao" itself. The battle entered its most critical, most dangerous ten-breath countdown. **Next Hook:** Can Lin Yi's assault severely injure or kill Master Xuan Yin within ten breaths? What exactly is Su Wanqing's seal, and what consequences will it bring? After ten breaths, when the illusion dissipates and the enemies recover, what desperate straits will Lin Yi fall into? Sacrifices continue, the price is not yet paid. At the edge of Lin Yi's vision, the invisible network of rules slowly manifested—dense silver threads woven into a net, descending from the firmament, each one draining the boiling "Contrary Fate" power within him. The air was thick like solidified glue, every breath tugging at the bone-deep wound on his shoulder. The power of rules, like a living thing, drilled along his meridians toward his heart, icy and piercing. Master Xuan Yin's chanting rose higher, the sky torn open by a rift. Pure silver light poured down—it was not light, but "Order" itself, the manifestation of "Oblivion." Before the pillar of light arrived, its pressure made the bones in his knees groan under the strain. The edges of his vision began to darken. But he stared fixedly at the gradually fading crimson, at Master Xuan Yin's staggering figure emerging from the aftermath of the explosion, his robes tattered, at Xiao Han's slightly furrowed brow due to the disrupted formation. And even more, at the slender back three steps diagonally ahead of him. The seal formed by Su Wanqing's hands flowed with a milky-white light, so pure it was blinding. She had her back to him, her voice piercing through the thunder and fierce winds, landing lightly yet steadily in his ears. "After my parents died... I always The oppressive force came crashing down like a collapsing mountain. Lin Yi felt his spine beginning to bend, the grinding of his bones clearly audible. He held on desperately, his nails digging into his palms, blood trickling down between his fingers. His vision began to swim. "Later, I understood," Su Wanqing's voice, amidst the roar of the light pillar, remained as clear as a needle. "Those stars... weren't for me to scoop up. They were markers." Milky-white light had already enveloped her entire body. Her face appeared translucent within the radiance, only her eyes remained clear, steadily fixed on Lin Yi. There was no fear, no sorrow, only a profound, bottomless calm, and a trace of... near-blessed resolve. He saw it. He saw the most primal power of the "Heart of Clarity" raging and burning wildly within Su Wanqing. It wasn't an attack, nor a defense—it was a kind of "bridging," a "sacrifice." She had turned herself into a channel, an anchor point, actively welcoming the silver light pillar that represented the Heavenly Dao's will to obliterate. A roar tore free from the constraints of his throat. Lin Yi wanted to lunge forward, but his body was nailed firmly in place by the web of rules. He could only watch, helplessly, as Su Wanqing gently curved the corner of her mouth at him, her lips moving silently. Then, she spread her arms wide, facing the silver light pillar. The silver "Heavenly Punishment Light" and the milky-white "Heart of Clarity" intersected, emitting a high-frequency, sharp shriek that stabbed directly into the soul. The sound was like countless shards of glass scraping across the surface of one's spirit. Lin Yi felt his brain being pierced, his consciousness blanking out. At the core of the eroding light, Su Wanqing's body did not immediately dissipate. She resembled a melting glass sculpture, starting from the edges, bit by bit transforming into crystalline motes of light. The light motes did not scatter; instead, they flowed upward against the current of the silver light pillar, like countless fireflies swimming against the tide, forcibly tearing a minute, distorted "fissure" within the silver radiance that represented absolute order and destruction. Within that fissure, there was no color, no shape, only an absolute "emptiness," and a trace of... an indescribable "fluctuation." True Master Xuan Yin spewed a mouthful of blood, his face instantly aging ten years. He staggered back, his eyes showing terror for the first time. "Impossible... How could the 'Heart of Clarity' interfere with Heavenly Dao punishment... This, this is..." He waited no longer. The jade thumb ring stopped rotating. He brought the fingers of his right hand together like a sword, a sword intent so deep blue it was nearly black flickering at his fingertips. The sword intent condensed without being released; the temperature of the surrounding space plummeted. Even the motes of light falling in the air, belonging to Su Wanqing, seemed to freeze for an instant. His gaze was not on Su Wanqing, nor on Lin Yi, but fixed intently on that "fissure" torn open by Su Wanqing with her life. "So that's it," Xiao Han's voice remained calm, yet carried a trace of icy comprehension. "Using the body as a guide, the soul as a bridge, forcibly creating a brief 'paradox node' within the execution chain of 'Heavenly Dao rules.' Miss Su... what you wagered wasn't just the annihilation of form and spirit, but the 'obliteration of existence'—eternal non-reincarnation. Was it worth it?" His sword intent shot forth, piercing with utmost precision toward the most unstable edge of that fissure.