The air inside the ruined shack felt heavy, as if it had been pressed flat.
It was not killing intent.
Rather, it was a presence that towered above the mundane—the kind of unconscious indifference a giant showed toward ants.
It felt like standing deep underwater: nothing touched him, yet instinct screamed that if the other party so wished, he would be crushed without resistance.
Yun Ling lay in the corner, resting atop clean cloth. Her breathing had steadied somewhat, yet her forehead remained burning hot, her brows faintly knit as if trapped within a nightmare.
Each dull thud of iron hooves outside sent a tremor through Yun Zhan's mind. His spine stiffened.
Instinctively, he tried to reach inward—to call upon that presence.
That night, when blood flames surged and his severed arm fell away, something had looked upon him. Cold. Detached. Yet it had acknowledged his offering.
Since then, silence.
He closed his eyes, letting his consciousness sink inward, tracing the裂隙 that had once been torn open within him.
There was nothing.
No response. No whisper.
That chaos felt as though it had never existed at all.
As if the Divine Will of the Path of Self-Severance had glanced at him only once—at the moment he abandoned himself completely—
and then discarded him.
"Is it because there is no offering…?"
The visitor outside had clearly lost patience.
With a casual sweep of his hand—
Crack.
The door was forced open by a wave of spiritual pressure.
A young man clad in purple robes stepped inside, several Pathwalkers following behind him.
He made no effort to release his aura, yet the moment he stood still, Yun Zhan felt the air grow heavier.
The candle flame flickered, shrinking inward.
This was pressure from a higher tier of existence.
Yun Zhan could not even judge the man's cultivation.
The young man narrowed his eyes.
"The Bone Inscription," he said coldly."Do you still possess it?"
The tone was calm—but carried a natural superiority.
Yun Zhan raised his head to meet his gaze.
He said nothing.
The man's eyes hardened.
In the next instant, pressure crashed down.
Yun Zhan's chest sank as though struck by an invisible hammer. His legs bent uncontrollably, nearly forcing him to his knees.
Fine cracks spread across the ground.
He slammed both palms down, refusing to kneel.
His teeth clenched. Blood filled his mouth.
The man raised his hand, patience clearly exhausted.
At that moment—
Yun Zhan suddenly lifted his right hand toward his mouth.
He was going to bite his finger off.
If sacrificing a little more—if losing another piece of his body—
could draw that gaze back down upon him…
Even a single finger might be enough.
Just as his teeth were about to sink into flesh—
A gentle, jade-like spiritual current swept through the shack.
"Stop."
The voice was light, distant—almost ethereal.
A figure appeared at the doorway.
The woman wore pale cyan robes, her face veiled. Her features were indistinct, yet her presence was refined and otherworldly. As she entered, spiritual energy flowed like water—then vanished entirely.
The oppressive pressure disappeared.
The purple-robed man frowned, then stepped back half a pace, bowing.
"Senior Sister."
The woman did not look at him.
Her gaze rested on Yun Zhan's raised hand for a brief moment.
"You do not need to do this," she said softly.
Her voice carried a strange calming power, one that reached deep into the soul.
Without realizing it, Yun Zhan lowered his hand from his mouth.
The ruthlessness in his eyes, however, remained.
The woman turned to face him.
"We are from the Lingxi Sect," she said evenly."Our purpose here was not you—but to confirm the existence of the Bone Inscription."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Yun Zhan replied, sensing the absence of direct hostility, yet remaining guarded.
His eyes drifted to Yun Ling.
The woman followed his gaze.
Suddenly, blue light flowed through her pupils.
Her eyes deepened like an ocean, faint azure radiance surfacing within.
She stepped closer, stopping several paces from Yun Ling.
"A Spirit-Communion Physique," she said quietly.
Yun Zhan's heart plunged.
He didn't understand what that meant.He only knew that if his sister became a target, even tearing off his remaining arm would change nothing.
"She knows nothing," he said immediately, stepping back toward Yun Ling.
The woman nodded.
"I know."
"Without Spirit-Seer Eyes, most Pathwalkers would never discover such a physique."
She turned back to Yun Zhan.
"Your sister's constitution is rare. And because of that—staying with you would only place her in greater danger."
The words were not accusatory.
Yet they cut like a dull blade, slow and precise.
Yun Zhan fell silent.
The air froze.
"If she goes with you…"his voice rasped,"will she live?"
The woman nodded solemnly.
"She will be raised as a future Saintess of the Lingxi Sect."
Yun Zhan closed his eyes.
His fists clenched until blood seeped from his palms.
When he opened them again, resolve had replaced everything else.
"…Take her."
"Protect her."
The woman lifted her hand. Gentle spiritual energy wrapped around Yun Ling, raising her softly to her side.
Before leaving, the woman glanced back at Yun Zhan—at his scorched face, and his missing arm.
"Your face," she said,"I can heal."
"Consider it compensation."
"No need," Yun Zhan replied coldly, his voice hollow, as if the last tether had been cut.
The woman hesitated.
"Then allow me to restore your arm. For a body cultivator, such a loss is severe."
Yun Zhan's heart jumped.
Before he could answer, she stepped forward, placing her hand at the site of the severance.
Azure ripples shimmered across her palm, flowing into the wound.
Moments passed.
The bleeding stopped—
but nothing grew back.
Yun Zhan recalled the whisper from that night:
I have acknowledged your offering…
The woman withdrew her hand, shaking her head gently.
"I cannot sense it."
"…Sense what?"
"The existence of that arm," she replied."It is as though it never existed at all."
"This is not an injury," she continued calmly."It is a price acknowledged by the Path itself."
"To reclaim it, you must rely on yourself."
"Advance your cultivation."
"Only upon reaching the Reconstitution Stage can such an existence be reborn."
Yun Zhan stood motionless.
It was as if the matter had nothing to do with him.
"If you wish for revenge," the woman said softly before leaving,"find a way to grow stronger."
At the doorway, she paused, summoning a manual from her storage ring and setting it before him.
"This technique covers the fundamentals of Body Cultivation up to the Mortal Body Stage."
"When you have grown stronger, come to the Lingxi Sect."
With that, she and the other Pathwalkers departed.
Yun Zhan lifted his head, gazing at the place where his sister had been taken.
It felt as though something inside him had been torn away.
Without strength…
you cannot protect anything.