Stone Mighty’s shoulder was like a scorching rock, digging into Lin Yi’s armpit. With each staggering step, what transmitted from his left arm was not pain, but a deep, sickening numbness. That numbness spread from the shoulder blade, seeping into the marrow like icy water, turning his entire arm into a cumbersome burden hanging from his body. “Hold on!” Stone Mighty’s low roar exploded by his ear, carrying ragged gasps. His other hand still dragged that heavy iron rod, its head scraping against the ground, sparking a trail of fire along the violently shaking corridor. Lin Yi gritted his teeth, trying to push off with his right foot to share some of the weight. His left leg felt as weak as if it belonged to someone else. They had just rushed out from the wreckage of the collapsing gallery and entered this relatively spacious corridor no more than a dozen steps when the entire ruins “came alive.” A low humming surged from all directions—not a sound, but more like a pressure directly squeezing against the skull. On the walls on either side, those ancient sigils, originally dim and almost merging with the rock, now awakened like a nest of snakes branded by a red-hot iron, suddenly glowed with a dark crimson light. They began to flow, twist, and reorganize, crawling sinuously across the stone surface, emitting faint yet teeth-grating *zizi* sounds, as if gnawing on the rock itself. Irregular tremors came from the ground—not up-and-down jolts, but lateral shifts, like the unconscious turning of a slumbering behemoth, each one making the footing perilous. From the depths—the depths of that humming and trembling—came clearer sounds. Similar to rusted metal being forcibly bent and scraped by immense force, sharp enough to pierce eardrums, dragging long, wet aftertones. The sound approached rapidly from the distance. Stone Mighty slammed to a halt. Lin Yi was carried forward by momentum, nearly falling. He barely managed to brace himself against the writhing wall with his right hand. His palm immediately registered a bizarre warmth and pulsing sensation, as if pressing against the skin of a living creature. He jerked his hand back as if shocked. Ahead, around the corridor’s bend, a dark crimson glow spread like blood dripping into clear water. They had no fixed form, more like a mass of flowing dark crimson sigils, barely converging into vague, humanoid outlines under some force’s traction. An irregular fissure split open where the head should be, and that teeth-grating metallic scraping screech emanated precisely from there. They “stood” there, eyeless, but Lin Yi could feel a certain icy “gaze” locking onto him—no, locking onto the uncontrolled, faintly burning dark golden patterns on his left arm. “Fuck…” Stone Mighty spat, pulling Lin Yi behind him, iron rod held horizontally across his chest. An earthy yellow aura manifested from his thick arms, not bright, but heavy and solid. “What the hell are these things?” Lin Yi didn’t answer. His breathing was shallow and rapid, his lungs pulling like a broken bellows. The numbness in his left arm was spreading toward his neck, the skin around his collarbone burning with a stabbing pain. The patterns there must have spread again. He forced himself to focus, lifting his still-functional right hand, fingertips trembling as he formed a hand seal. A faint thread of airflow gathered at his fingertip, swirling into a pale cyan, blurry-edged wind blade. Too slow, too weak. The spiritual power within his body was as parched as a sun-baked riverbed, each extraction bringing a searing agony through his meridians. It didn’t take a step. Its entire “body” slid forward, instantly closing the distance by several zhang. The fissure on its head abruptly gaped open, and a dark crimson, arrow-like beam of solidified light shot out silently, aimed directly at Stone Mighty’s face! “Brother Stone, left!” Lin Yi rasped, simultaneously flinging that wobbly, unstable wind blade. His target wasn’t the energy entity, but the empty space to Stone Mighty’s left, attempting to interfere. Stone Mighty’s reaction was startlingly fast. He didn’t even look at the incoming dark crimson beam. His massive body, with an agility belying its size, dodged sharply to the right. At the same time, his iron rod, wrapped in a dull whoosh of air, swept upward from below, the earthy yellow aura surging! The iron rod smashed heavily into the leading edge of the energy entity’s “sliding” trajectory. There was no sound of physical collision, only a piercing, shrieking noise like large panes of glass shattering Lin Yi’s pupils contracted sharply. Retreat? Behind him was the writhing wall. Left? His left arm was a dead weight, his balance already gone. Right? Shi Meng was tangled with another one, iron rod clashing against crimson energy, blasting out corrosive sparks that sizzled and crackled. The air filled with the stench of scorching and an indescribable, fishy odor. The blurred, shrieking humanoid silhouette was already upon him, the crack in its head gaping open, dark red light gathering within. Lin Yi’s intact right arm had no time to block or cast a spell. But his stiff left arm, as if stimulated by the approaching crimson energy, suddenly erupted with a cold, violent will of its own! Dark golden patterns lit up instantly from his shoulder and neck down to his forearm, their glow piercing. A savage force that did not belong to him—one that even seemed to reject his own will—exploded from deep within the marrow of his left arm, roaring along his meridians. His entire left arm lifted uncontrollably, fingers splayed—the index and middle fingers remained stiffly extended, appearing bizarre and ferocious—and clenched violently toward the oncoming energy entity. But the air in front of Lin Yi’s left arm seemed to solidify and collapse for an instant. The charging crimson energy entity slammed into an invisible, spike-covered wall. Its forward momentum ceased abruptly, its entire “body” twisting and compressing violently, emitting a metallic screech higher-pitched than before, like a death cry. It did not dissolve into red mist, but utterly disintegrated into countless fragmented crimson specks of light that scattered in all directions. Some splashed onto the nearby walls and were immediately absorbed by the writhing sigils. Most dissipated into the air. His left arm remained extended in a clenched fist. From fingertips to shoulder, every inch of muscle, bone, and meridian screamed with pain—a pain so intense it felt as if they had been completely frozen and then shattered with a heavy hammer. The agony was clear, bone-deep, momentarily overwhelming the numbness. Slowly, with immense difficulty, he tried to bend the fingers of his left hand. His thumb moved. His ring and little fingers trembled slightly. His index and middle fingers remained straight and rigid, like two lifeless stone rods. No matter how he willed it, no matter how he tried to channel even a wisp of spiritual power to break through, those two fingers gave no response. The dark golden patterns on his skin now completely covered the back of his hand, spreading upward toward his wrist. Their color was deeper, faintly shimmering with a metallic cold light. “Ugh…” A suppressed groan, mingling pain with some deeper emotion, forced its way from Lin Yi’s throat. He stared at his two rigid fingers. His face, illuminated by the eerie interplay of crimson and dark gold light, was frighteningly pale. Shi Meng had finished off his own opponent. He had smashed the other energy entity into the ground with his iron rod, his fierce qi and the corrosive energy mutually annihilating until it finally dissipated. But Shi Meng wasn’t unscathed. The coarse cloth sleeve on his left arm was torn open, revealing a wound about an inch long on the skin beneath. Blood seeped out steadily. It wasn’t bright red, but a dull, grayish crimson. The edges of the skin were slightly curled and charred, showing signs of corrosion, but without the usual smell of burning flesh. Instead, it gave off a fainter, yet more unsettling, fishy odor. Shi Meng didn’t even glance at his wound. He strode over to Lin Yi in a few steps, his eyes first sweeping over the two rigid fingers, then quickly shifting to Lin Yi’s deathly pale face and the cold sweat beading at his temples. “Your hand… ruined?” Lin Yi closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, the momentary confusion and pain in their depths were forcibly suppressed, leaving only icy exhaustion. “For now… it won’t move.” His voice was terribly hoarse. “Your arm…” “It won’t kill me.” Shi Meng tore off another relatively clean strip from his inner garment and, without looking, roughly wrapped it around the grayish wound, tying it off with a tight knot. The motion was brutal, his brow not even twitching. “We can’t stay here. Those damned things might come back. Find a way out!” He propped Lin Yi up again. This time, Lin Yi’s left arm hung completely limp, swaying helplessly with each step, its fingertips occasionally scraping against the ground or walls, sending dull, grating sensations up his arm. The tunnel continued to hum and tremble incessantly. The sigils on the walls flowed faster, like a frantic, silent dance. In the distance, the metallic screeching hadn’t faded His gaze swept over the frantically darting sigils, the irregular cracks in the ground, the occasional fine motes of residual light dust floating in the air from energy collisions. The shadows at the edge of his vision were expanding—a sign of dual exhaustion in both physical strength and mental energy. He bit down hard on the tip of his tongue; the metallic sweetness and sharp pain brought a sliver of clarity to his consciousness. Just as Shi Meng was almost about to choose a downward-sloping branch tunnel that was shaking especially violently, Lin Yi used all his strength to lift his uninjured right arm and point toward the upper left. Shi Meng looked in the direction he pointed. It was the corner where the tunnel ceiling met the side wall. In the intermittent illumination of several darting sigil lights, a narrow, irregular black fissure was faintly visible. The rock around the edges of the fissure wasn't writhing; it was relatively stable. Most importantly, it extended diagonally upward, and the tremors from the ground seemed to weaken considerably by the time they reached there. "Go!" Shi Meng didn't hesitate, half-dragging, half-carrying Lin Yi toward that corner. Upon getting closer, he realized the fissure was even narrower than it had looked from afar. At its widest point, it was barely wide enough for one person to squeeze through sideways. Inside was pitch black, bottomless, with a stale, dusty smell and a certain cold, damp aura seeping from its depths. But compared to the "living" hell outside, filled with unknowable pursuers, this narrow, dark, unknown fissure became the only seemingly viable choice for the moment. Shi Meng pushed Lin Yi toward the fissure entrance first. "Can you get in?" Lin Yi looked at the cramped entrance, then at his completely unbendable, rigidly straight left index and middle fingers. The corner of his mouth twitched into an extremely faint, almost self-mocking curve. "...I'll try." He turned sideways, squeezing his uninjured right arm and half his body into the fissure first. The icy rock wall immediately pressed against his skin, its rough granules scraping against his exposed neck and cheek. Then, he took a deep breath, pressed his stiff left arm as close to his side as possible, and began inching inward. The stiffness of his left arm became the biggest obstacle. It couldn't bend to accommodate the twisting of his body; it could only remain rigidly straight, catching on things. When a protrusion on the rock wall scraped across the skin covered in those dark golden patterns, a sharp, tearing sensation—different from the previous numbness or agony—suddenly shot through him! "Hiss—" Lin Yi sucked in a sharp breath, a burst of stars exploding before his eyes. The feeling was as if the skin beneath the patterns had become exceptionally fragile, being scraped open by the rough rock. No blood flowed out, but the pain was utterly real, accompanied by an eerie, subtle *zzzrip* sound, like dry leather being forcibly stretched and torn, or perhaps... the faint sound of annihilation produced by energy rubbing against a physical entity. An extremely faint wisp of bluish smoke, carrying a scorched smell, rose from the scraped area. "Faster!" Shi Meng growled from behind. He could already hear the grating metallic screeches from the tunnel behind them rapidly approaching, and from more than one direction. Lin Yi closed his eyes, mustering his last ounce of strength, and shoved his body violently deeper into the fissure. His entire person finally disappeared completely into that narrow darkness. Shi Meng followed right behind. When his massive frame squeezed into the fissure, the rock walls on both sides emitted a groaning, overburdened *crick-crack*, and rubble pattered down. He took one last look back at the tunnel outside, streaked with red light and growing closer screeches, spat out a mouthful of bloody saliva, then turned without hesitation. Using his shoulder and back to press against Lin Yi, he pushed him, trudging with difficulty toward the unknown darkness and perhaps a sliver of light in the fissure's depths. From deep within the fissure, denser, overlapping layers of screeching sounds faintly reached them, as if something was writhing and gathering in that narrow passage. And Lin Yi's mutated left arm, forced into continuous scraping against the rough rock wall, left behind brief, flaring trails of light that extinguished just as quickly with each friction-induced spark and scorched stench, along with... perhaps an energy resonance that could not be easily concealed. The fissure stretched upward, crooked and twisted like a wound torn open by brute force. No—it was Shi Meng almost using his shoulder and back to shove Lin Yi forward inch by inch. The space was so narrow turning around was impossible. The rough, damply cold rock walls on both sides scraped incessantly against their Through the rock layers, the sounds became muffled and indistinct, but their distance was discernible—not far. They were like a pack of bloodhounds following a trail, prowling outside the labyrinthine fissures, searching for the next entrance. The dark golden patterns had already spread from his shoulder and neck down to below his collarbone, the skin surface slightly raised like the veins of some living creature. His left index and middle fingers were completely rigid, maintaining a slightly bent posture; when they touched the rock wall, there was only a numb, dull sensation. It was as if his senses had been entirely covered by something cold and heavy. "Brother Shi..." Lin Yi opened his mouth, his voice terribly hoarse. "I..." "Shut up." Shi Meng cut him off, his shoulder giving another forceful shove. "Save your strength. Wait until we're out... then talk." "But what 'but'?" Shi Meng abruptly stopped, turning his head halfway. In the gloom, his face was covered in dust and dried blood, but his gaze pierced like a nail. "What's wrong with your arm? Did you mess with something in there?" The tremors from the rock wall seemed to have weakened somewhat, but the shrieking sounds were drawing closer. He could feel the tension in Shi Meng's back muscles, and the hand gripping the iron rod, knuckles white. "...Countered by a mechanism." Lin Yi finally said, deliberately slowing his speech, each word weighed carefully. "The defensive mechanisms of the Forbidden Corridor... I triggered something I shouldn't have touched." "A kind of... sigil." Lin Yi avoided the term "Power of Inverted Fate." "It was embedded in the core of the corridor. I tried to interpret it, and as a result..." He raised his left arm, letting Shi Meng see the spreading patterns. In the darkness, the dark golden luster was faint but clear. Shi Meng stared for a few seconds, his Adam's apple bobbing. "Will it kill you?" Shi Meng turned his head back, continuing to inch forward. His movements were more forceful than before, his shoulder almost lifting Lin Yi off the ground. "Then don't worry about it for now. As long as it keeps you alive, we'll deal with it after we get out." "Brother Shi." Lin Yi's voice lowered, carrying a tremble he himself hadn't noticed. "I... I'm holding you back." But Lin Yi felt the hand gripping his wrist tighten violently. The force was so great it almost felt like it would crush his bones. Shi Meng spat a mouthful of blood-tinged saliva, his voice rough like sandpaper grinding. That wasn't the dark blue or crimson glow of sigils from inside the ruins, but a more natural, thinner light—like daylight filtering through cracks in the rock, carrying the scent of the outside world. But then, from the direction of that faint light, other sounds also came. There were also faint spiritual energy fluctuations, surging like tidewater from outside the fissure. Even through the rock layers, he could feel that dense, chaotic aura. Lin Yi's heart tightened, the edges of his vision beginning to darken. It wasn't weakness, but a sharper kind of fear—a hare hearing the baying of hounds, only to find that ahead wasn't a forest, but a hunting camp. "Outside..." he heard his own voice trembling. "There are people everywhere outside." He tilted his head, listening, his expression sinking bit by bit until it became almost ferociously grim. "Fuck." He cursed under his breath, the veins on his hand gripping the rod bulging. "Qingxuan Sect patrols... and other scum." And behind them, the pursuers' shrieks were closing in. Another wave of intense pain shot through Lin Yi's left arm, the patterns surging with heat, almost breaking through the skin. He clenched his teeth, pressing down hard on his left arm with his still-functional right hand, trying to suppress that violent force. It was like a trapped beast, frantically ramming against its cage. "Brother Shi." Lin Yi took a deep breath, his voice suddenly becoming abnormally calm, so calm it felt unfamiliar even to himself. "I... stole something." "Something... that might be useful, but is very dangerous." Lin Yi continued, his eyes sharp as knives in the gloom. "I can try... to hide us. For ten breaths." Long enough that the shrieking from behind had become clear enough to distinguish the number—at least five, rapidly approaching the entrance to the fissure in this direction. "Try." Shi Meng finally said, just one word. He turned, his back to Lin Yi, iron rod held horizontally across his chest, adopting a defensive posture. That broad back was like a wall, blocking all potential dangers that might come from behind. Leaving the Warm liquid flowed down, carrying the metallic stench of rust. Black blood. The patterns on his left arm spread wildly, like burning vines crawling up his jawline and the side of his neck. A tearing, burning pain came from beneath his skin, as if his entire body was about to burst from this force. "Give me..." Lin Yi roared silently in his heart, his body trembling violently. "... hide!" The light at the exit of the fissure twisted eerily. As if covered by an invisible veil, the light and shadows in that area became blurred, and even the clamoring human voices seemed muffled and distant, as if separated by a thick cloth. But the price was that the mutated patterns on his left arm had completely spread to his jaw, and the black blood from his nostrils wouldn't stop dripping. Lin Yi wiped it with his right hand; his palm was sticky. Shi Meng also turned to look at him, his eyes showing no surprise, only a nearly savage determination. "As long as it saves our lives," he repeated, then turned back to stare at the distorted light and shadows. "We'll talk outside." From temporary companions, they had become comrades bound by life and death—a trust that entrusted one's back and life to the other, needing no verbal confirmation. The light ahead was no longer the eerie blue or dark red glow of the ruins' internal runes, but a more natural, thinner light—like daylight leaking through rock fissures, carrying the scent of the outside world. Lin Yi's left arm scraped against the rough rock wall, each movement bringing a tearing pain. He was almost shoved forward by Shi Meng's shoulder. "Brother Shi..." he gasped, his voice so weak it was almost inaudible, "I... I'm dragging you down." Shi Meng turned his head, glaring at him with a face smeared with blood and dust. His arm, eroded by the gray energy, hung limply at his side, muscles twitching slightly. "Bullshit!" he growled. "If you can move, hurry! There's light ahead!" Lin Yi gritted his teeth. His left index and middle fingers were stiffly extended, like two withered branches that didn't belong to him. The dark golden patterns had already spread to his collarbone, and beneath his skin came a cold, dull sensation, as if something foreign was moving inside. He gathered the last of his focus and used his right arm to brace against the rock wall. The moment the light flooded in, Lin Yi's heart tightened. It wasn't the ecstasy of relief, but the chill of plunging into an ice cave. Outside was the chaotic boulder field near the ruins' entrance. But now, between those jagged boulders, stood a dense crowd of people. The standard blue robes of the Qingxuan Sect patrol disciples. The varied attire of other sects' scouts. The fluctuations of spiritual energy surged like tides, and the clamoring voices blended into a vague roar. At least thirty people formed a semicircle, blocking all escape routes. Less than twenty zhang from the fissure exit where they hid. Shi Meng also froze in place. His uninjured hand clenched the iron rod tightly, knuckles turning white. "What do we do?" Shi Meng's voice was pressed extremely low, carrying a heavy, ragged breath. Lin Yi's mind raced. Charge out? Thirty against two, his left arm half-crippled, Shi Meng injured, and their spiritual energy nearly depleted. Hide back in the fissure? The sounds of pursuers still echoed behind them—that was a dead end. Wait for them to search this way? His gaze swept over a small area outside the cave entrance. Several waist-high scattered boulders, a patch of slanted shadow. Light slanted in from the direction of the ruins' entrance, casting mottled patches on the ground. "Try that..." Lin Yi's voice was dry, "... thing I just... stole." Shi Meng whipped his head around to look at him: "You motherf—" "No time!" Lin Yi cut him off, speaking with abnormally fast speed, each word like a nail. "Ten breaths. Just ten breaths." He closed his eyes. The "essence" of that dark golden rune from the restriction corridor exploded in his mind—that violent feeling of forcibly tearing open rules and brutally seizing a path. The remnants of spiritual energy crawled painfully through his meridians, like the last few drops of muddy water at the bottom of a dried-up riverbed. Yet the power deep within his left arm surged uncontrollably, cold and violent, gnawing away at his will inch by inch. He had to, within these ten breaths, and under the watchful eyes of everyone, completely hide this out-of-control arm.