Lin Yi’s fingertips had just touched the icy cold wall of the fork in the tunnel when his entire body froze. It wasn’t the temperature of the rock. It was that familiar scent in the air, a mixture of sandalwood and rust. And behind him, footsteps so faint they were almost imperceptible, yet perfectly timed to fall in the gaps between his breaths. He slowly turned around. Xiao Han stood in the shadows three *zhang* away, his black robe pooling on the ground without a speck of dust. The jade thumb ring on his left hand emitted a soft, deceptive luster under the dim phosphorescent light deep within the ruins. He even wore a faint smile on his face, as if greeting an old friend. “We meet again, Ziyuan.” His voice was clear and bright, his tone calm. Like an ice pick wrapped in silk. The fingertips of Lin Yi’s right hand unconsciously tapped against the outside of his thigh. Once, twice. The rhythm was steady, but a sense of pressure seeped from the very marrow of his bones. He didn’t speak, only shifted his weight slightly backward, pressing the heel of his left foot against a protruding stone edge. Escape routes, angles for counterattack, how much power he could still wring from his depleted spiritual veins—all options flashed through his mind in an instant, calculated, discarded. In the end, only one conclusion remained: he couldn’t win. “No need to be tense.” Xiao Han took a step forward, the shadows receding from his face to reveal those perpetually calm, unrippled eyes. “I’m not here to kill you. At least, not now.” He raised his right hand, not to attack, but to point toward the passageway behind Lin Yi that led deeper in. Lin Yi’s gaze followed. Then, his breath hitched for half a beat. At the end of the passage, about ten *zhang* away, the air was warping. Not from heat waves, but from some more fundamental distortion—a dark purple, pulsing halo like a living thing, resembling a translucent oily film, sealing the entire passage shut. Within the halo, countless tiny, pitch-black talismanic characters could vaguely be seen madly swimming, colliding, and annihilating. Each collision emitted a low hum, almost inaudible yet piercing straight to the marrow of his brain. Like countless rusty needles scraping against the inside of his skull. A faint smell of ozone permeated the air, mixed with another, even harder to describe scent—sweetly putrid, like aged, decaying bloodstains. “A rules backlash field.” Xiao Han’s voice chimed in at the right moment, as if lecturing a dull class. “Any spiritual energy fluctuation—even a ripple as minor as drawing in the first breath of *qi*—will trigger a chain attack. Energy materialization, spatial distortion, flesh and blood disintegration. Force your way through, and death is certain.” Lin Yi’s Adam’s apple bobbed. He forced himself to tear his gaze away from that deadly dark purple and pin it back on Xiao Han’s face. “You’re telling me this.” He spoke, deliberately slowing his pace, each word like a stone fished out of icy water. “Why?” “Because I know the way.” Xiao Han tilted his head slightly, his gaze falling on an inconspicuous area at the edge of the backlash field where the color of the rock wall was slightly darker. “A path… that requires two people to traverse. Over there,” he pointed at that section of wall, “there is a temporary ‘phase weakness point.’ One person triggers the mechanism, the other must, within three breaths, step on the third groove down from the seventh brick on the opposite wall. An error exceeding one *cun*, or a delay of half a breath, and the mechanism resets, the weakness point shifts. To find it again, you’d have to wait for the next hour.” He paused, gently rotating the jade thumb ring once around his finger. “And by the next hour, the backlash intensity here will increase by thirty percent. We cannot afford to wait.” Lin Yi stared at him. His fingernails had unknowingly dug into his palms, the old, unhealed wounds sending a dull ache. He needed this information. He needed to cross this area, to reach the core control console marked on the blueprint, which might hold clues to the “rules origin.” Xiao Han also knew he needed it. This was an overt scheme. Barefaced, using survival probability as a bargaining chip. “Cooperate,” Xiao Han uttered the two words, his tone as flat as if discussing the weather, “or both of us perish here, trapped. Your choice.” Lin Yi’s fist clenched tightly at his side. His kn Lin Yi’s gaze swept over the dark-purple backlash field once more. The humming seemed to have grown stronger, making his eardrums feel swollen. Alone, with less than twenty percent of his spiritual power remaining, the mutation in his left arm was temporarily stable, but every exertion of force felt like dancing on the edge of a blade. Charging through was indeed a death sentence. “Terms,” he finally spoke, his voice hoarse. Xiao Han seemed to have anticipated his reaction; even the faint, false smile at the corner of his mouth didn’t waver. “Simple. No attacking each other while crossing this spiritual-restriction zone. Once we reach the core control console, cooperation ends automatically, and we each rely on our own abilities. As for what’s inside the control console…” He paused briefly. “Whoever touches it first, keeps it. Fair, isn’t it?” Fair? Lin Yi almost wanted to sneer. But he held back. He needed more information. “What makes you think I’d trust you?” he asked, his eyes locked onto Xiao Han’s, not missing the slightest flicker of emotion. “Once we reach the other side, if you turn on me, I still have no chance of winning.” Xiao Han sighed softly, a sigh tinged with an almost pitying, nauseating tolerance. “Ziyuan, you always think the worst of me.” He retrieved a black token about half the size of a palm from his robes. It was neither metal nor wood, its surface engraved with intricate, slowly shifting silver patterns. “This is an ‘Oathkeeper Token.’ Used by the Balance Enforcement Division for certain special collaborative missions. We each place a drop of blood on it. During the crossing, if either party actively attacks the other, the token will backlash, and the attacker’s meridians will suffer rule erosion equivalent to their own full-power strike.” He held the token in his palm, extending it to where Lin Yi could see it clearly. “A heavy enough price, right? Enough to guarantee ‘safety’ for this brief journey. As for after we cross this zone…” Xiao Han put the token away, his eyes turning cold and distant once more. “That’s another matter. But at least, we’ll both live long enough to reach the point where we need to scheme against each other.” Lin Yi looked at the token. The silver patterns flowed endlessly, exuding an ancient and ruthless aura of rule-based power. It was real. With Xiao Han’s status, he could possess such a thing. Rule erosion… for a cultivator, a punishment worse than death. A brief silence. Only the distant, unceasing low hum of the backlash field remained, along with the throbbing of his own blood rushing past his ears. Cooperation was drinking poison to quench thirst. Refusal was instant death. Lin Yi pressed his tongue against the roof of his mouth, tasting the metallic tang of blood—he had bitten the inside of his cheek without realizing it. Slowly, very slowly, he unclenched his tightly balled fist. “Only for crossing this zone,” he heard his own voice—cold, steady, without a trace of tremor. “Once we reach the hall where the control console is located, cooperation ends immediately. Any unnecessary actions along the way will be considered an attack.” Xiao Han smiled. This time, the smile seemed a fraction more genuine, yet it chilled the heart even more. “A wise choice.” He took out the Oathkeeper Token again, lightly slicing his fingertip along its edge. A drop of crimson blood welled up and fell onto the center of the token. The silver patterns suddenly brightened, absorbing the blood with a faint *sizzle*. Xiao Han passed the token over. Lin Yi took it. The token was cold to the touch, heavy, like holding a block of ice. He stared at the flowing silver patterns, pausing for a full three breaths before using his nail to cut his left index finger. A drop of blood fell. Silver light flashed intensely for an instant, then stabilized. But the token’s temperature changed—no longer cold, it now carried a faint, lukewarm warmth that faintly connected to both their bloodlines. An invisible, uncomfortable restraint quietly wrapped around his spiritual sense. The contract was sealed. “Let’s go.” Xiao Han put away the token, turned, and strode toward the dark-purple zone of death. The hem of his black robe brushed against the dust-covered floor without a sound. “Follow my steps closely. Step on the wrong tile, and we both die.” Lin Yi cast one last glance at the dark passageway behind him—empty, nothing but endless, devouring shadows. Then, he took a step forward, following that tall, aloof figure ahead. Three steps. Two steps. One step. He crossed the edge of the dark-purple glow. Instantly, it His senses were amplified. The smell of dust, the damp chill of the rock, the faint scent of sandalwood from Xiao Han ahead, and the elusive, bloody odor wafting from his own wounds. His vision became exceptionally clear, even allowing him to see the direction of every weathered crack on the distant rock wall. He also saw it clearly: on the shoulder of Xiao Han's black robe, three steps ahead, there was a small, inconspicuous patch of blackish, dark-red stain. It wasn't dust. Lin Yi's pupils contracted slightly. It was blood. Blood that had dried long ago. Xiao Han... was injured? Before coming here? Or was there something else in these ruins, besides the backlash of the rules? Xiao Han didn't look back, nor did he explain the origin of the stain. He simply stopped walking, raised his right hand, and made a simple gesture—his index finger pointed straight down once, then pointed toward a slightly lighter-colored stone slab on the ground to the left. Silence. Pay attention. Lin Yi held his breath and looked in the direction he pointed. The stone slab fit seamlessly with its surroundings, showing no abnormalities. But the distribution of dust on its surface was unnaturally uniform—as if deliberately smoothed over by some force. A trap. A purely physical, lethal trap that relied on no spiritual power. Xiao Han picked up a small pebble from the ground and flicked it with his finger. The pebble traced a low, flat arc, landing precisely in the center of the stone slab. "Click." A faint, crisp sound of mechanisms engaging. The stone slab instantly collapsed downward, revealing a bottomless darkness below. Immediately after, a dense, grating metallic friction erupted from the abyss. Dozens of spikes, gleaming with an eerie blue light, shot upward at astonishing speed, only to retract with a thunderous clatter the next instant. The entire process took less than a single breath. If he had stepped on it... Cold sweat seeped from Lin Yi's back. Without spiritual power to protect him, those spikes, tempered with some unknown poison, would have been enough to turn him into a sieve. Xiao Han withdrew his gaze. His profile, illuminated by the dark-purple halo, appeared especially pale and aloof. He said nothing, simply stepped forward, bypassing the death trap, and continued on. Lin Yi followed. The sound of his footsteps on the solid ground seemed particularly loud, particularly... fragile in the absolute silence. Pure physical danger. Unknown mechanisms. Beside him, a "companion" who could turn into a venomous snake at any moment. This path had only just begun. Stepping across the edge of the energy field, Lin Yi's chest tightened like a drum. It wasn't an illusion. The already meager spiritual power within his body instantly solidified and sank, like quicksilver dropping into an ice cellar. His body suddenly felt heavy, each breath straining his exhausted muscles. The faint smell of ozone in the air grew stronger, mixed with stone dust and... a hint of elusive rust. Xiao Han, half a step ahead and to his side, also stopped. His black robe stirred without wind, then fell completely still. The jade thumb ring on his left hand also lost its luster. Both had become mortals. Lin Yi's fingertips unconsciously tapped the scabbard of the short knife at his waist. Once, twice. The rhythm was steady, carrying a certain scrutinizing cadence. He observed ahead—the passage extended into deeper darkness, both stone walls lined with dense, unnatural carvings. The stone slabs on the ground varied in shade, like randomly patched pieces. The air barely moved; dust floated in the faint, sourceless phosphorescent light, slowly tumbling. "Walk." Xiao Han's voice sounded, calmer than before, devoid of emotion. He took the first step, landing lightly on the edge of the lightest-colored stone slab. Lin Yi followed, his gaze sweeping over the spot where Xiao Han stepped, memorizing it. The second step, Xiao Han stepped onto the center of another light-colored slab. Lin Yi's toes landed on the edge of the same slab, only half a foot from Xiao Han's heel. No communication. Only the soft scraping of boot soles against stone and each other's suppressed breathing. The third stone slab was slightly darker, its texture rough. Xiao Han's foot hovered for a moment, then turned, stepping onto a neighboring slab that was lighter in color but had fine cracks along its edge. Lin Yi turned almost simultaneously, stepping onto the darker slab Xiao Han had abandoned—the sensation underfoot was hard and stable. He looked up. The line of Xiao Han's nape was tense; he didn't look back. They advanced like this, in a near-mirrored probing manner, for about thirty feet. The passage began to slope downward, the gradient gentle but the dampness increasing. The carvings on the The first fork appeared ahead. The passage to the left was wider, with a faint sense of air movement; the one to the right was narrow, half-blocked by a collapse of rubble. Xiao Han stopped before the fork, not immediately choosing. He tilted his head slightly, as if using his ears to catch that faint sound of airflow. Lin Yi also held his breath to listen. The airflow sound from the left… was too uniform, uniform like a certain kind of cyclic breathing. He looked toward the collapsed rubble on the right. Through the gaps in the rubble, he could vaguely see that it wasn’t completely blocked behind, and the fracture surfaces of the stones were very fresh. “Right.” Lin Yi spoke, his voice very low. Xiao Han turned to look at him, his eyes like two points of ice in the gloom. “Reason.” “The wind on the left is a trap.” Lin Yi stared into his eyes. “Too regular. A mechanism needs a power cycle.” “The rubble could also be bait.” “The fractures are fresh. If it were bait, it should be aged.” Lin Yi’s fingertip tapped the scabbard again, the rhythm a beat faster. “Wanna bet?” Xiao Han was silent for two breaths. The thumb ring on his thumb rotated a small half-turn. “You go first.” Lin Yi didn’t argue. He turned sideways, squeezing through the gap between Xiao Han and the stone wall, his movements as agile as a cat. Approaching the rubble pile, he crouched, picked up a small piece of flaked stone debris, and rubbed it between his fingers. Dry, without the powdery feel of long-term exposure. He looked back and gave Xiao Han an extremely slight nod. Then, he braced his shoulder against a large stone that looked the loosest and slowly applied force. Muscles bulged beneath the fabric, fine sweat beading at his temples. The stone emitted a grating, teeth-grinding sound, shifting backward an inch or so, revealing a gap just wide enough for one person to squeeze through sideways. Behind the gap, the darkness was deeper, but the air was dead silent, without that regular sound of airflow. Lin Yi squeezed in first. Xiao Han followed closely behind. As he passed through, his black robe snagged on a sharp stone edge, making a faint tearing sound. The passage was indeed not completely blocked, just the entrance masked by artificially piled rubble. Inside it was narrower; the two could only proceed single file, almost brushing against the stone walls as they moved. The walls were damp and cold, moisture condensing into fine droplets that brushed onto their sleeves, leaving dark, wet stains. Lin Yi’s ears caught a faint, unusual sound. Extremely subtle, like grains of sand rolling. He abruptly raised his hand, fist swinging back in a gesture to stop. Xiao Han’s footsteps immediately ceased. Lin Yi tilted his head, listening. The sound came from overhead. He slowly looked up—within the shadows of the stone wall above, several tightly fitted rectangular stones were shifting apart with excruciating slowness, dust sifting down from the gaps. “Back!” he growled, his body jerking backward. Almost simultaneously, the stones overhead collapsed with a crash! Not as a single block, but like dismantled building blocks, stones of varying sizes tumbled down, carrying dust, raining upon them. Lin Yi crashed back into Xiao Han’s embrace, and they stumbled backward together. Stones smashed onto the spot where they had just been standing, exploding into a cloud of choking dust. A fist-sized piece of rubble flew off, heading straight for Lin Yi’s face. He twisted to dodge, but the confined space limited his movement. Xiao Han beside him swept his arm across, using his elbow to knock the stone away. A dull *thud* sounded as the stone ricocheted. The sleeve over Xiao Han’s elbow immediately tore, and a rapidly reddening bruise appeared on his skin. The dust cloud settled slightly. The passage ahead was more than half-blocked by the fallen stones, leaving only a low gap. The pile of rubble was still shifting slightly, emitting ominous, crumbling sounds. Lin Yi pushed himself out of Xiao Han’s embrace, his back hitting the cold stone wall as he panted. He glanced at Xiao Han’s torn sleeve and the red mark beneath, but said nothing. The drum in his chest beat more urgently. “Can’t stop.” Xiao Han shook his arm and headed for the low gap first, bending down to crawl through. His movements were decisive, not looking at the injury again. Lin Yi followed. Passing through the gap, the view suddenly opened up. It was a small stone chamber. The ground in the center was sunken, forming a regular, circular pit. Arranged along the edge of the pit were nine metal spikes, thick as a child’s arm and heavily rusted, pointing diagonally toward The stone hall floor trembled slightly. At the edge of the circular pit, two opposing metal spikes suddenly began to retract slowly downward, revealing two dark holes in the pit wall behind them. Immediately after, the heavy sound of chain mechanisms grinding came from the pit's bottom. A narrow stone beam extended slowly from the darkness of the opposite pit wall, like a silent tongue stretching toward this side. The beam was only a foot wide, its surface covered in slippery moss. The stone beam extended to the center of the pit and stopped. There was still a gap of over ten feet to this side. Xiao Han stood up and looked at Lin Yi. "The mechanism has two stages. That side triggered the first stage; this side needs to trigger the second." He pointed to the stone wall Lin Yi had pressed earlier. "The corresponding mechanism should be on the opposite side." Lin Yi looked toward the area near the opposite stone door. The light was too dim to make out details. "How do we get over?" Xiao Han didn't answer. He stepped back several paces, visually measured the distance, then began a running start. His footsteps tapped rapidly on the stone slabs as he charged to the pit's edge and leapt! His black robe spread in the cold, damp air. His body traced an arc, landing precisely on the end of the isolated stone beam jutting out in the middle. The beam sank sharply, moss splattering. Xiao Han's body swayed; he dropped to one knee to steady himself, fingers gripping the slippery surface at the beam's edge. Panting, he slowly stood and turned toward the opposite stone wall, beginning to feel his way along it. Lin Yi watched from this side of the pit. His fists clenched with purpose. Xiao Han's jump just now relied entirely on pure muscular explosive power and precise calculation—not a trace of spiritual energy fluctuation. This enemy… was even more unpredictable than he had anticipated. Another *click* sounded from the opposite side. On this side of the pit, the ground beneath Lin Yi's feet trembled similarly. Two more metal spikes near his side of the pit wall retracted, revealing a second opening. The remaining section of stone beam rumbled out from the opening, connecting with the central section. A complete, slippery single-stone bridge now spanned the deep pit bristling with spikes. Xiao Han had already reached the opposite shore and stood before the half-open stone door, looking back at him. His gaze was calm and unrippled, as if that risky leap just now was nothing out of the ordinary. Lin Yi stepped onto the stone beam. The moss was slippery under his boots; a cold wind swirled up from the pit bottom, making his robes flutter. He walked slowly, planting each step firmly, his eyes fixed only on Xiao Han's figure ahead, refusing to look down at the heart-stopping darkness and the cold, glinting spikes below. When he reached the center, a sudden change occurred. From the holes in the pit walls on both sides where the metal spikes had retracted, the sharp shriek of mechanisms firing suddenly erupted! Not spikes re-extending, but countless short needles, thin as ox hair and gleaming with an eerie blue luster, showered toward Lin Yi on the stone beam like a torrential downpour! The coverage was so wide there was simply nowhere to hide! Lin Yi's pupils contracted sharply. Time seemed to stretch. He saw the trajectory of the needle rain, saw Xiao Han's face suddenly lift on the opposite side, saw a rare flicker of shock and anger in those perpetually calm eyes. No time to dodge. Just as the needle rain was about to strike his body, Xiao Han, beside the stone door opposite, did something Lin Yi completely could not comprehend. He didn't activate any mechanism, nor did he throw something to block. Instead, he slammed his palm fiercely against the stone door beside him! The heavy stone door was thrown inward by this palm strike containing pure physical force, crashing against the inner stone wall with a deafening roar. The massive sound wave and vibration reverberated and rebounded within the narrow stone hall! Those rapidly shooting eerie blue short needles, under this sudden violent air disturbance and sonic impact, actually deviated slightly and scattered chaotically in their trajectories! Most of the needles missed Lin Yi's body, vanishing into the darkness behind. Still, a few struck his left arm and shoulder, sending sharp stings, but it was far from a lethal blanket coverage. Lin Yi didn't even have time to check his wounds. Seizing this precious gap, he pushed off with his feet and charged forward! The slippery stone beam almost made him fall, but he stabilized with astonishing balance, crossing the remaining distance in several strides before lunging onto the opposite shore, colliding with the stone wall beside the door, panting heavily. The needle rain ceased. The pit returned to deathly silence, only the stone door that had been slapped open still humming faintly. Lin Yi looked down at his left "Why?" Lin Yi asked, his voice hoarse from lingering fear and confusion. Xiao Han could have used other methods, even refrained from acting altogether. Disrupting the needle rain with sound waves required deep understanding of the trap's mechanics, split-second judgment, and precise control over one's own power. Xiao Han used his trembling hand to straighten his collar, which had been slightly ruffled by the shockwave. His gaze swept over the wounds on Lin Yi's arm before shifting away, looking into the deeper darkness beyond the stone door. "The poison on those needles," he began, his tone regaining that icy calm, "is called 'Soul-Corroding Powder.' Not fatal, but it slowly erodes one's perception of and affinity for spiritual power. For you, in your current state, being hit by it is no different from being crippled." He paused, his thumb gently rubbing the jade thumb ring. "And I still need a usable 'key' to open the doors ahead. That's all." *Key.* The word pierced Lin Yi's heart like an icicle. The faint, complex tremor stirred by that perilous rescue instantly froze solid. He was still a tool, a bargaining chip—just the one currently useful. He didn't look at Xiao Han again, instead tearing a relatively clean strip from his inner garment and tightly binding the three small wounds on his left arm, applying pressure to stop the bleeding and slow the poison's spread. His movements were swift, carrying a kind of ruthless determination. Then, he walked first toward the stone door that had been slapped open. Inside was a narrow staircase leading upward. At its end, a faint, steady halo of light, different from the phosphorescence, was barely visible. There, likely, lay the core. But the numbness in his arm and Xiao Han's word "key" felt like two fresh shackles, heavy and constricting. The cooperation continued, yet fissures had already spread silently, deep enough to show the bone. The end of the passage was not the open space he had anticipated. A dark golden light membrane, like a frozen waterfall, sealed the entire entrance. On its surface, countless dense, runic symbols writhed like living things, colliding and annihilating, emitting a high-frequency hum that was almost piercing enough to rupture eardrums. Lin Yi halted. He raised a hand, signaling Xiao Han to stop. Both men stood still three paces from the light membrane. The air was thick with a dry, metallic-burning odor, mixed with a faint, cloying sweetness... reminiscent of blood. "Restriction," Xiao Han's voice came from behind, unnervingly calm. "The final barrier to the core area. Any spiritual energy fluctuation will activate a countermeasure mechanism—annihilation grade." Lin Yi didn't turn. His gaze fixed on the left edge of the light membrane—there, a slightly paler patch where the flow of runes was noticeably slower, like a stuttering gear. "A weak point?" "Not exactly." Xiao Han stepped forward half a pace, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Lin Yi. "That's a trap. The surface energy fluctuation is weakest there, but it's actually a pressure-sensitive node. Touch it, and the entire light membrane detonates instantly." Lin Yi's fingertips unconsciously tapped against the outside of his thigh. Once. Twice. Three times. "So?" he asked. "So it requires two people." Xiao Han turned his face, looking directly at Lin Yi for the first time. "Simultaneously touch two symmetrical nodes, applying pure physical force in perfect synchronization within a thousandth of a breath. Not faster, not slower, no spiritual energy assistance. Make the light membrane misjudge it as 'environmental stress,' triggering a three-breath dormant period." "Three breaths?" "Enough for us to pass through." Lin Yi stared at the pale patch. The humming vibrated within his skull, the edges of his vision beginning to darken. He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the smell of rust and scorched metal. "Margin of error?" "Exceed two-thousandths of a breath, detonation." Xiao Han paused. "Or, you can choose to turn back." Turn back? Lin Yi remembered the bloody marks left by the rotating blade array behind them. Remembered the deliberately suppressed hiss Xiao Han made when the cloth rubbed against his wound while bandaging his arm. Remembered even earlier—that rainy night three years ago, his father standing in the shadows of the ancestral hall, his back turned, saying, "This is for the family." He had never had a path back. "Positions," Lin Yi said, his voice cold as ice. Xiao Han pointed to the right side of the light membrane. There, a similar pale patch, symmetrical to the left, but the direction of the runic flow was precisely opposite. The two men took their positions. Lin Yi raised his right hand, his palm pressed his palm against the light membrane. The sensation wasn't that of a solid barrier, but something viscous and warm, like gelatin. The moment his skin made contact, Lin Yi felt a powerful suction, as if his entire arm was about to be swallowed. Gritting his teeth, he pressed his full body weight forward. To the left, Xiao Han exerted force simultaneously. The light membrane trembled violently! The buzzing sound abruptly sharpened into a piercing shriek. The runes flashed madly, their dark golden light swelling, almost threatening to devour everything. Lin Yi's knuckles emitted a groaning sound of strain, and fine beads of blood began to surface on his skin— Then, it all stopped abruptly. The light membrane collapsed inward from the center like melting wax, revealing an opening just large enough for one person to pass through, its edges still wriggling and contracting. The buzzing vanished, the smell of scorching dissipated, leaving only dead silence. Three breaths. Lin Yi charged through first. Xiao Han followed closely behind. The opening sealed completely behind them, solidifying back into an intact light membrane. *** The core control room was smaller than expected. A circular space no more than ten zhang in diameter, its floor paved with dark purple crystal slabs, each surface carved with dense, intricate runes Lin Yi couldn't comprehend at all. The dome ceiling was low, with countless tiny points of light slowly rotating in the darkness, like an inverted galaxy. And at the very center of the space— A massive crystal hovered in mid-air. It was roughly the height of two men, its entire body displaying an eerie, constantly shifting array of colors: dark gold, deep purple, ink-green, blood-red... These colors weren't static, but flowed, collided, and merged within the crystal like living things. On its surface, even more complex runes flashed and extinguished at speeds imperceptible to the naked eye. With each flash, they stirred visible ripples of energy in the air. Lin Yi's breath hitched for a moment. He could feel it. Even from this distance, even with his spiritual power completely suppressed, he could still feel it—the aura emanating from that crystal was one of pure, cold "rules." Not power, not energy, but... order. An absolute will of "it must be so." "That is the recording core," Xiao Han's voice sounded beside him, lower than usual. "It stores all the operational logs, contractual terms, and execution records of this ruin—or rather, this 'rule node'—since its establishment." Lin Yi didn't respond. His gaze swept around the crystal. Something was moving there. Three. No, four. Translucent humanoid silhouettes, seemingly composed of solidified smoke, slowly, mechanically patrolled around the crystal. They had no facial features, no details, only the rough outline of a human form, and within those outlines, constantly flashing rune-light points of the same color as the crystal. "Rule retaliation entities," Xiao Han said. "Pure rule constructs. No consciousness, only execution protocols: attack any living being that approaches the crystal without authorization. Their attacks carry 'rule erosion,' acting directly on the foundation of the soul." Lin Yi clenched his fist. "How do we avoid them?" "You can't," Xiao Han said. "Their perception is based on rule vulnerability scanning, not vision or spiritual power fluctuations. The moment we step within three zhang of the crystal, we'll be marked as 'unauthorized visitors.'" "So?" "So someone needs to draw them away," Xiao Han turned his face to look at Lin Yi. "I'll draw them. You take the chance to contact the crystal and read the information. You bear the 'Destiny Defier' brand, you might be able to bypass some of the access restrictions." Lin Yi stared at him. "Why you?" "Because my injuries will affect reading efficiency," Xiao Han raised his left arm, where the bandaged cloth was already stained with blood. "And you, Lin Yi, you need to know the truth. Don't you?" Silence. The air was filled with the cold, pulsing energy emanating from the crystal. The light points on the dome slowly rotated, casting shifting shadows on the floor. "How long?" Lin Yi finally spoke. "Thirty breaths at most," Xiao Han said. "After thirty breaths, whether you've finished reading or not, I'll withdraw. At that point, we must leave immediately, otherwise—" He paused. "Otherwise, the second batch of entities will activate. Double the number." Lin Yi nodded. No more wasted words. Xiao Han turned and took his first step toward the left side of the crystal. The moment his foot touched the ground, all four patrolling entities froze simultaneously. They turned their "gaze" toward Xiao Han in unison. In the next instant, their smoke-like bodies abruptly elongated and twisted, like four arrows shot from a bow, hurtling toward Xiao Han! Their speed was He met the foremost entity head-on, his body sliding sideways at the last moment, his right hand’s fingers held together like a blade, piercing with pinpoint accuracy the flickering runic light point on the entity’s chest—not with spiritual power, but with pure physical force, carrying a certain tricky, structure-tearing technique. The light point exploded! The entity let out an inhuman, high-frequency shriek, its entire smoke-like body instantly disintegrating into a cloud of drifting light-dust. But the other three had already encircled him. Xiao Han dropped low, evading a smoky claw aimed at his throat, while simultaneously sweeping his leg out, his ankle striking the runic node at the knee position of the second entity with precision. Another explosion. Lin Yi moved. In the instant Xiao Han drew all the attention, he shot out like a shadow, skimming the ground, his target the central crystal. His footsteps fell on the dark purple crystal slabs, producing dull echoes, each step precisely avoiding the flickering runes on the floor. Five *zhang*. Three *zhang*. Two *zhang*— The third entity suddenly abandoned Xiao Han, turning to pounce on Lin Yi! Too fast. Lin Yi didn’t even have time to think; his body reacted instinctively—his forward momentum was forcibly halted, his entire body leaning backward, the smoky claw grazing past the tip of his nose, the gust of wind it carried scraping painfully against his cheek. At the same moment, Xiao Han charged from the side. He slammed his shoulder hard into the entity’s side ribs, the muffled sound of a runic node exploding mingling with the crisp sound of bone impact. The entity disintegrated, and Xiao Han, knocked back by the recoil, staggered backward, a trickle of blood seeping from the corner of his mouth. “Go!” he roared hoarsely. Lin Yi gritted his teeth and charged forward again. The last entity was locked in a desperate struggle with Xiao Han. Two figures tumbled and collided back and forth on the crystal slabs, each contact accompanied by the flash of exploding runes and the dull thud of flesh and blood impact. Lin Yi finally reached the base of the crystal. He looked up. The enormous crystal hovered overhead. At such close range, the flowing colors and runes presented a dizzying, almost maddening complexity. Waves of energy ripples washed over him, slapping against his skin, bringing a needle-like stinging pain. No time to hesitate. Lin Yi extended his right hand, his palm pressing against the crystal’s surface. Cold. Not the cold of low temperature, but a conceptual cold that reached deep into the soul. As if he wasn’t touching a stone, but a frozen, flowing “rule.” The next moment, a torrent of information flooded in! Not words, not images, but something more primitive, more direct—"understanding." Countless fragmented scenes, clauses, imprints, judgments… like a breached dam, crashing through all the defenses of his consciousness— **[Contract Number: Celestial Law – Seven – Ninety-Nine]** **[Contracting Party: Lin Family Bloodline Genealogy (Mark: Fate-Reversal Candidate)]** **[Clause Summary: Every three generations, the most talented direct-line descendant must be sacrificed to balance the disturbance of the Fate-Reversal bloodline upon the Heavenly Dao order. The sacrifice must undergo “Spiritual Root Stripping” and “Fate Transplant” before the coming-of-age ceremony to ensure the bloodline curse does not spread.]** **[Executing Authority: Balance Law Division (Seventh Sequence)]** **[Current Cycle Sacrifice: Lin Yi (Lin Family, Thirty-Seventh Generation Eldest Grandson, Innate Full Spiritual Root, Mark Status: Locked)]** **[Previous Cycle Sacrifice: Lin Qinglan (Lin Family, Thirty-Fourth Generation Second Daughter, Mark Status: Erased)]** **[Cycle Before Last Sacrifice: Lin Yuanzhou (Lin Family, Thirty-First Generation Third Son, Mark Status: Erased)]** **[Breach Record: Thirty-Sixth Generation Patriarch Lin Zhenyue, attempted to use a “Life-Substitution Talisman” to deceive Heaven’s secrets within the contract cycle, resulting in flaws in the sacrifice mark. Breach Penalty: Seventy percent of family fortune depleted, half of direct blood relatives died untimely deaths, remaining members’ fates all corrupted by the curse.]** **[Execution Record: Balance Law Division Seventh Sequence Attendant Xiao Han, completed the “Spiritual Root Stripping” operation on sacrifice Lin Yi three years ago. Subsequent “Fate Transplant” suspended due to escape of the sacrifice. Current Status: Pursuing.]** **[Additional Clause: If the sacrifice dies before the formal sacrifice, it shall be considered a complete breach of contract. The entire contracting clan shall receive the “Heavenly Dao Erasure” judgment, bloodline extinguished forever.]** Lin Yi’s hand trembled. Xiao Han had just finished off the last entity, leaning on his knees as he caught his breath. Hearing these words, he raised his head and wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth. His face showed no expression. No guilt, no justification, not even a flicker of emotion. Only a kind of almost numb calm. “Yes,” Xiao Han said. “But I was only a tool.” A tool. Lin Yi’s vision began to redden. Something was burning in his chest, burning through reason, burning through pain, burning through every ounce of forbearance and humiliation from these past three years. On his left arm, those dark golden aberrant patterns now seemed to come alive, growing hot and spreading. Fine cracks appeared on the surface of his skin, oozing thin, dark golden droplets of blood. “A tool?” Lin Yi laughed, the sound full of icy madness. “What a fine tool. Then what am I? A sacrifice? A number? A ‘flaw’ that needed to be ‘erased’?” He stepped toward Xiao Han. With each step, the crystal slabs beneath his feet groaned under the strain. The runes carved into the floor began to flicker and grow chaotic with his footsteps, like disturbed circuitry. Xiao Han straightened up, pressing his right hand against the wound on his left arm. Blood was still seeping out, but he seemed to feel no pain. “The cooperation is over, Lin Yi,”