The sensation of the light gate sealing shut behind him was like tearing through a layer of damp, cold membrane. His left foot landed first, crushing half a weathered green brick. Dust billowed up, mixing with the blinding midday sunlight that stabbed into his eyes. He squinted, raising a hand to shield them—the moment his left arm lifted, the dark golden patterns beneath his skin stirred like awakening centipedes, winding and fever-hot. There was no day or night within the trial, but his body remembered. His muscles ached, his meridians throbbed with residual scorching pain, and the newly branded mark deep within his soul was icy and piercing. He took a deep breath, trying to exhale the scent of rust mixed with ashes from his lungs. It wouldn’t clear. Faint. Mingled with the dry dust and the cool, aged scent of stone. But unmistakable. Lin Yi’s stomach tightened. He lowered his hand. Thirty paces away, Shi Meng was half-kneeling. Two silvery-white chains were tightly wrapped around his thick arms, the other ends held by two figures—silver-white daoist robes, spotless, reflecting a metallic sheen in the sunlight. Shi Meng’s face was flushed crimson, veins bulging on his neck. His great axe was planted on the ground, its blade chipped. He was roaring, but the sound was stifled in his chest, turning into intermittent, low growls. That ancient sword, its blade riddled with cracks, was embedded half a foot into the ground, the blade slightly bent. Mo Chen hung his head, his graying hair loose and covering his face. The hand holding the sword trembled, his knuckles terrifyingly white. His other hand pressed against his ribs, dark red blood seeping between his fingers—drip, drip—splattering onto the dry, earthen ground. Three figures in silver-white daoist robes stood in a triangle. The thought pierced through the calm he was trying to maintain like an ice spike. Those three things had human shapes, wore daoist robes, but… something was off. Their stances were too precise, as if measured with a ruler. Sunlight fell upon them, their shadows so faint they were almost invisible, the edges blurry, as if they might melt into the light at any moment. Lin Yi wasn’t particularly close, but he could see clearly—those three faces were identical. Smooth, without wrinkles, without expression. Their eyes were two pools of bottomless silver-gray, without pupils, just two smooth reflective surfaces. They stared at Mo Chen and Shi Meng as if looking at two objects awaiting disposal. The one in the middle raised a hand. Palm upward, fingers slightly spread. The air began to distort, rippling outward from his palm in concentric, watery waves. Where the ripples passed, the rubble on the ground silently turned to powder, not even raising dust, simply vanishing. Mo Chen suddenly lifted his head, coughing up a mouthful of blood, trying to pull his sword—the sword seemed welded to the ground. The air around him grew viscous, like congealing glue. *Rules.* The word sprang into Lin Yi’s mind. Not spiritual pressure, but something more fundamental—the “rules” within that space had been altered, becoming hostile to all “anomalies.” Mo Chen’s sword, his spiritual energy, even the very act of “attempting to resist,” were all being dissolved by that power. The dark golden patterns on his left arm flared brightly for an instant, burning so hot it made him gasp. That pain had direction, sharply pointing toward those three silver-white figures. They were resonating. A cold line connected the “Heavenly Dao Mark” on his soul to those three things. Three days. True Master Xuan Yin had fled gravely wounded, but the “Heavenly Dao” had not given up. It had sent something more direct, more inhuman. To eliminate the “Defier of Fate” and his associates—that was the goal. Mo Chen and Shi Meng were involved because of him. Lin Yi’s fingertips unconsciously tapped against the broken edge of the ruined wall beneath him. Once, twice, the rhythm erratic. His gaze swept across the battlefield: the chain around Shi Meng’s neck was slowly tightening, biting into flesh, blood dripping along the links; Mo Chen, immobilized by the rules, had more and more blood welling at the corner of his mouth, his face ashen; the three Overseers, one suppressing Mo Chen, two dealing with Shi Meng, their positions tight. The soul mark ached, but it seemed… he hadn’t been directly “seen” yet. Was it because he’d just emerged from the trial, his aura unstable? Or was the mutation brought by the “First Stolen Authority” interfering with their detection? The chain around Shi Meng’s neck tightened another The price? Every time it's used, the mutation intensifies. The "brightness" of the soul mark might also increase. The risk of exposure... The rattling sound in Shi Meng's throat grew weaker. His eyes began to roll back. Mo Chen looked at Shi Meng. In those eyes, always sharp as knives, appeared something Lin Yi had never seen before—a kind of near-desperate helplessness. He opened his mouth, made no sound, but Lin Yi read the shape of his lips. *Go.* Lin Yi's fists clenched. His fingernails dug into his palms, the sting briefly clearing his chaotic thoughts. And then what? Wait for the Inspectors to finish with them, then follow the mark to find him, hiding like a rat? Something cold and heavy fell from his chest, dropping to his abdomen, then spreading to his limbs. Not anger, not fear, but a clarity closer to resignation. A switch snapped shut. The option to lie low was brutally snapped off the decision tree. He slowly inhaled. The smell of blood and that cold "Rule" aura filled his lungs. The dark golden patterns on his left arm began to silently glow with his will. Target: The "confinement" rule of the chain around Shi Meng's neck. The moment the chain tightened around Shi Meng's throat, Lin Yi moved. The dark golden patterns on his left arm burned like red-hot iron wire. His body, crouched behind the ruined wall, tensed like a drawn bow, his gaze locked onto the chain. Target: The chain's "confinement" rule. As the thought solidified, his left arm felt as if pierced and churned by countless icy steel needles at once. Not flesh pain, but something deeper—the power of rules tearing at his newly mutated limb. He grunted, the taste of iron rising in his throat. That chain wasn't a physical object; it was a strand of "space" forcibly solidified. Its structure was intricate, like countless tiny interlocking gears, forcibly executing the command "no movement here." He couldn't dismantle the whole structure, but he could—briefly—make one of those gears "jam." The silvery-white glow of the chain dimmed for an extremely brief instant. The pressure on Shi Meng's neck abruptly eased. This big man possessed astonishing combat instinct, almost simultaneously erupting with a roar, his muscles bulging. "Break for me—now!" A dull sound of metal and stone snapping. A crack split open in the chain. Shi Meng swept his giant axe, forcing back the Inspector on his left, and seized the chance to roll backward, gasping for air, a ring of dark purple bruises already forming on his neck. Lin Yi rushed out. His speed wasn't fast; he even staggered. The intense pain in his left arm crashed against his consciousness in waves. He ran to Mo Chen's side, reaching out to support him. Mo Chen coughed up a mouthful of bloody froth, staining his chest. He grabbed Lin Yi's extended arm, his grip so tight his knuckles turned white. There was no joy of rescue in his eyes, only heavy urgency and anger. His lips moved, his voice pressed extremely low, like a knife scraping stone: "Go! You shouldn't have come out!" Lin Yi didn't let go. Using the support to steady himself, his gaze swept over the three silver-white figures closing in again. Their faces were shadowed within their hoods, features unclear, only an inhuman sense of being watched. The mark deep in his soul burned more painfully, like a red-hot iron rod drilling deeper. He stared at the Inspector with the strongest aura directly ahead. His arm trembled from the pain, but he deliberately slowed his voice, word by word: "Is this what you've always been afraid of? 'Heaven's Way's' dogs?" "They aren't dogs." Mo Chen's voice was hoarse, carrying something deeper. "They are the 'Rules' themselves grown eyes and limbs. Don't you understand yet? Ziyuan, what you brought out from the trial, to them, is an 'error' that must be erased!" The Inspector on the right moved. No extra actions, just raised a hand, fingers closing into a loose fist. Dozens of fine silver needles condensed out of thin air, silently shooting forward, their trajectories sealing off all angles of evasion. The patterns on Lin Yi's left arm burned hot again. He gritted his teeth, his will locking onto those silver needles—Target: Their "absolute hit" attribute. The pain doubled. The dark gold beneath the skin of his left arm seemed to come alive, creeping a short distance toward his shoulder blade, bringing a searing, burning heat. He grunted, staggering a step, but as those silver needles approached within three feet of him, their trajectories showed slight disturbances, colliding with each other, clattering to the ground. "The First Stolen Authority..." The lead Inspector in "Their 'rule suppression' is extremely potent against conventional spiritual power." Mo Chen hastily formed characters in the air with his true qi, the writing flickering. "We must disrupt the very structure of their rules using 'unconventional' means. But your body..." "Will hold." Lin Yi cut him off. Wiping the blood seeping from the corner of his mouth, his gaze swept over the three Inspectors. They were adjusting their positions, subtly forming an encirclement. The leader stood in the center, the other two flanked left and right, their auras locking onto Shi Meng and Mo Chen. He took a deep breath, suppressing the dual agony from his left arm and the soul mark. His stomach felt gripped by an icy hand. The world narrowed to a single alley, at the end of which stood those three silver-white figures. There was no retreat. "Shi Meng!" Lin Yi barked. "The one on the left, full-force strike, ignore defense!" Shi Meng grunted deep in his throat and hefted his giant axe once more. A layer of earthen yellow light enveloped the axe head—his trump card martial technique. The left-side Inspector raised his hand again, the silver barrier reappearing. The dark golden patterns on Lin Yi's left arm flared for the third time, brighter and more piercing than before. The pain darkened his vision, but he locked his focus onto the target—not the Inspector attacking Shi Meng, but the leader in the center! Target: The leader's "rule support" for the "defensive barrier of the left-side companion"! This was far more complex than stealing the rule of a single attack. Instantly, Lin Yi felt as if his left arm had been thrown into a meat grinder, an invisible force tearing madly through flesh, blood, and bone. A coppery sweetness rose in his throat; blood surged up, and he forced it back down. The leader's body paused almost imperceptibly. While maintaining the "rule coordination" over the entire battlefield, the "absolute stability" attribute of his left-side companion's barrier was forcibly "borrowed" by Lin Yi—an insignificant sliver. The barrier emitted a crisp, glass-shattering sound. Spiderweb cracks instantly spread across its surface. The shadow beneath the left-side Inspector's hood rippled, and his body slid back half a step. Mo Chen, who had been half-kneeling all this time, now flashed a sharp gleam in his eyes. He pointed his fingers together like a sword, dipped them in the blood on his chest, and rapidly traced an ancient, archaic rune on the ground before him. The moment the rune was completed, a wave of cold, obscure power emanated, causing the ground to tremble slightly. "Earth Bind · Spirit Forbidden!" Mo Chen squeezed out a hoarse, breathy sound from his throat. Centered on the blood rune he had drawn, a web of dark red patterns instantly expanded, covering the area beneath the left-side Inspector's feet. That Inspector's movements abruptly stiffened, the silver light flowing around him noticeably dimming. "Well done!" Seeing this, Shi Meng, ignoring the searing pain from his split tiger-mouth palms, swung his axe in a fierce assault once more. This time, the Inspector, deprived of the barrier's perfect protection and briefly disrupted by Mo Chen's secret art, was finally forced into a continuous retreat. Several gashes were torn in his silver-white robe by the axe's wind, though no blood seeped out. The leader had not moved. He merely observed coldly. Now, he slowly raised his right hand, palm facing upward. An extremely complex rune, composed of countless intricate silver lines, began to slowly rotate and manifest above his palm. The moment the rune appeared, the surrounding air seemed to solidify, light twisted, and a chilling aura that instinctively made souls tremble spread out. The burning pain from the mark on Lin Yi's soul reached its peak. It was no longer a pinprick, but his entire soul being thrown into a purgatory of alternating ice and fire. He groaned, sinking to one knee, left arm braced against the ground. The light of the dark golden patterns flickered erratically, fine cracks appearing on his skin's surface, oozing beads of blood. The leader's gaze pierced through the battlefield, landing precisely on Lin Yi. That gaze held no emotion whatsoever, only pure "confirmation" and "erasure." "Fate-defier." The leader's voice was utterly flat, yet it clearly pierced through the clamor of battle, echoing over the ruins. "Soul mark resonance peak confirmed. Feature code: Initial Theft. Source contamination level: Three." "In accordance with Article Four, Chapter Seven of the 'Heavenly Dao Purification Statutes,' a 'Heavenly Dao Execution Order' is hereby issued for the fate-defier 'Lin Yi' and his associated Shi Meng was also stunned. He halted his attack, turned to look at Lin Yi, then at the silver rune emitting terrifying fluctuations, his rough face showing bewilderment and horror for the first time. "Execution... Order? Brother Lin, this..." Lin Yi propped himself up with his left arm, slowly rising to his feet. The excruciating pain in the left half of his body intertwined with the cold, slimy sensation of his soul being "marked," making every movement exceptionally difficult. He wiped away the blood constantly seeping from the corner of his mouth, lifted his head, and met the inhuman gaze of the inspector captain. He cracked a grin, his face smeared with blood and grime, yet his eyes shone with a frightening intensity, like knives tempered in fire. "A place to belong?" He slowly repeated the meaning behind the captain's words, his voice hoarse but resolute. "I'll carve it out myself!" Before his words faded, the silver light from the rune in the inspector captain's palm suddenly contracted, and then— A silver-white halo over three zhang in diameter expanded silently from the rune's center. Wherever the halo passed, the hard rock of the ground turned to dust like weathered sand, crumbling without a sound. Space twisted, stretching out pitch-black fissures that emitted a destructive suction force. Not fire, not frost—something more fundamental: "annihilation" at the level of "rules." "Ring of Annihilation." Mo Chen's voice broke. He snapped his head toward Lin Yi, the last trace of hesitation in his eyes replaced by a certain resolve. "Ziyuan! I have a secret method that can burn my remnant soul and Dao foundation to briefly break the spatial seal here, sending you away alone! But I need—" "Shut up!" Lin Yi cut him off sharply. His eyes were fixed on the slowly expanding, all-devouring silver-white halo, veins bulging at his temples. The dark-gold patterns from his left arm to his chest burned with unprecedented brightness under the pressure of the "Ring of Annihilation." Cracks beneath his skin rapidly spread, blood seeping out, staining half his robe red. Escape? Where to? This attack was locked onto the mark on his soul; there was no hiding, even at the ends of the earth. Mo Chen's proposal was to trade his own life for Lin Yi's chance to survive, perhaps a few more days of lingering breath. And then what? Waiting for the next "Execution Order" amid endless pursuit and hiding? The clarity of mind he had gained during the trial screamed wildly within this desperate situation. He took a deep breath, the scorching air carrying the scent of blood and destruction rushing into his lungs. He channeled the last remnants of his spiritual power within, along with all his boiling will, resentment, rage, and the mad belief in that path "carved out himself," pressing them all toward his seething left arm! A dark-gold light suddenly erupted from his left arm, instantly spreading to his entire left shoulder and chest. The radiance was so intense it momentarily suppressed the silver-white of the "Ring of Annihilation." The cracks beneath his skin deepened, blood gushing forth. His entire left arm and half his chest seemed on the verge of being shattered by this violent force the next second. Agonizing pain? Numbed. The soul's searing burn? Became a distant hum in the background. His consciousness was unprecedentedly clear, yet locked onto the expanding "Ring of Annihilation" with a mad focus. The target: not the halo's "energy," not its "speed," not even the phenomenon of "spatial annihilation." But the most fundamental, core concept underpinning all of this—its "absoluteness"! Lin Yi roared out. It was not a cry of pain, but a howl of staking everything on the wheel of fate. His left arm, boiling with dark-gold light, made a grasping motion toward the silver-white halo that had already expanded before his eyes! Time seemed to stretch and solidify in that moment. At the edge of the "Ring of Annihilation," within the tiny space of Lin Yi's grasping hand, an extremely abrupt, subtle "ripple" appeared in the flawless, all-devouring silver-white light. Like a speck of dust on an absolutely smooth mirror. Immediately, that "ripple" spread, becoming a brief, visible "lag." The silver-white halo's expansion speed slowed by an imperceptible instant in that tiny area, its light dimming by an almost undetectable sliver. Like a precision machine, its most crucial gear was jammed by a grain of sand for a billionth of a second. "Now!" Mo Chen's pupils contracted sharply. Gathering his last true energy, he pointed with his fingers in rapid succession. Three condensed crimson sword energies shot out, striking precisely at the center of that "lagging" ripple! Sh The silvery annihilation energy grazed past his body. Lin Yi felt a chill in his right leg, followed by an excruciating pain that penetrated to the bone, as if all the flesh and blood in his entire leg had withered away in an instant. But he gritted his teeth and, with the pull from Mo Chen, the three of them narrowly escaped the coverage of the "Annihilation Ring," tumbling awkwardly into a pile of rubble over a dozen zhang away. Behind them, the silvery-white ring persisted for a moment after losing its target, then slowly contracted and dissipated into the palm of the Chief Inspector. The Chief Inspector stood in place, his silver-white Daoist robe fluttering without wind. He lowered his head to look at the slightly dimmed rune in his palm, then raised his gaze to the three figures struggling to rise in the distance. Especially Lin Yi, who was half-supported by Mo Chen—his left side already covered in dark golden patterns and blood, his aura faint to the extreme. "Rebel of Fate, Lin Yi…" The Chief Inspector's icy voice sounded once more, this time carrying an extremely faint, almost "recording" quality. "Preliminary display of unconventional interference capability against the high-order rule concept of 'absoluteness.' Threat level revised: highest. 'Execution Order' execution status updated: target severely wounded, marker brightness significantly increased, tracking coordinates solidified." He paused, as if receiving some intangible information. "First-wave elimination operation assessment: obstructed. Executor: Silver Law Three-Six-Seven. Request initiation of second-wave elimination procedure, authorization level: Earth. Estimated response time: twelve shichen." With that, he no longer looked at Lin Yi and the other two, turning away. The other two inspectors also turned simultaneously. The three silver-white figures silently merged into the distorted air, vanishing just as they had appeared. Only deathly silence and an unbearably thick smell of blood remained at the edge of the ruins. Lin Yi lay in the rubble, his vision darkening in waves. The excruciating pain in his left arm and chest surged like tides against the embankment of his consciousness. The mark on his soul, after being branded by the "Execution Order" and forcibly "stealing" the rule, continued to radiate scorching heat and an infinitely amplified "sense of presence," like a red-hot coal. He knew he could no longer hide, like a lighthouse in the dark night. The cold and numbness in his right leg were spreading—the price of being grazed by the "Annihilation Ring." With his last ounce of strength, he tilted his head to look at Mo Chen. Mo Chen had also suffered significant internal injuries, blood still fresh at the corner of his mouth. He was looking down at Lin Yi, his always deep and inscrutable eyes now churning with extremely complex emotions—lingering shock, profound worry, a trace of relief after a narrow escape, but more than anything, a heavy, sorrowful weight that Lin Yi could not comprehend. Mo Chen's lips moved as if he wanted to say something, but in the end, he only extended a trembling hand and gently pressed it on Lin Yi's right shoulder, which was not covered by the dark golden patterns. He channeled a faint, warm-cool stream of true qi, attempting to stabilize the turbulent and chaotic energy within Lin Yi's body. Shi Meng struggled to sit up. He had suffered the lightest injuries, mainly exhaustion and superficial wounds. He looked at the unconscious Lin Yi, then at the silent Mo Chen, scratching the back of his head and smearing his hand with blood and dust. He opened his mouth, wanting to ask what a "Rebel of Fate" truly was and what the "Execution Order" meant, but seeing Mo Chen's grave expression and Lin Yi's miserable state, he swallowed his words. In the end, he only asked in a muffled voice, "Master Mo... Brother Lin... will he wake up?" Mo Chen did not answer. He raised his head to look in the direction where the inspectors had vanished, then glanced at the gloomy sky. In the distance, dull thunder seemed to rumble, and the sky had grown even darker than when they had first emerged. He withdrew his gaze, settling it on Lin Yi's tightly furrowed brow even in unconsciousness and the shocking sight of his body, half-covered in dark gold and blood-red. Mo Chen slowly closed his eyes. When he opened them again, only a cold, resolute determination remained. He bent down, carefully lifting the unconscious Lin Yi onto his back. The young man's body was light, but Mo Chen's footsteps were as heavy as a mountain. "Let's go," he said to Shi Meng, his voice hoarse and almost broken. "We leave this place first. Find somewhere... to hide." Where could they hide? Shi Meng wanted to ask, but seeing the straight-backed figure of Mo Chen, he ultimately