Snow hammered down, heavy enough to turn the world white and mute every sound except for the howling wind.
Wei Lian pressed on, teeth gritted, breath ragged and steaming, blood crusting at the edges of his cracked lips.
The stone on his shoulder felt like it had fused with his flesh, the weight sinking into muscle and bone.
Every step was agony.
His feet, raw and shredded, left streaks of blood that steamed in the freezing mud.
Ice clung to the tatters of his robe, making it heavy, dragging him down with every gust of wind.
Ahead, the canyon narrowed further, rock walls pressing in until he had to turn sideways.
Black stone scraped his arms raw, cutting through flesh without mercy.
Roots snaked down, dripping poison that hissed on the icy ground.
He watched another disciple trip, falling face-first into the vines.
Thorns sank deep, and the boy's shriek bounced off the walls, fading into wet choking.
His stone tumbled away, rolling to rest at Wei Lian's feet.
He didn't look at the corpse.
He stepped over it, adjusting his burden with shaking hands slick with blood.
His eyes remained fixed ahead, cold and empty.
Inside, his dantian seethed.
The crack pulsed like a second heart, each beat sending waves of burning Qi through his veins.
He felt it pressing outward, testing the weakened seal.
He coughed, spitting a mouthful of blood that sizzled on the frozen ground.
The wind whipped the red smear away in an instant.
He forced another breath, slow and deliberate, ignoring the pain in his ribs.
The path dropped into a sudden pit, shallow but lined with broken spikes.
He didn't see it in time.
His foot landed on rusted metal, slicing deep.
He fell with a grunt, the stone smashing into his back.
His vision exploded in white light as his ribs shifted painfully.
For a moment he couldn't breathe.
Snow landed on his face, melting into rivulets that ran into his mouth.
He tasted blood and dirt, freezing water numbing his tongue.
The crack in his dantian yawned wider, Qi roaring like an enraged beast.
Drop it. Fail. Break.
The voices in his skull shrieked, louder than the wind.
He pressed his forehead into the mud, shivering violently.
But he didn't let go.
He dug numb fingers into the stone, dragging it back onto his shoulder.
Pain flared so sharp he nearly vomited.
He screamed, hoarse and broken, but it wasn't surrender.
It was defiance, ugly and raw.
He shoved himself upright, legs shaking like saplings in a gale.
He staggered forward, chest heaving, eyes narrowing against the sleet.
His heart felt like it might explode from the strain.
Every breath rattled, wet and bubbling.
The canyon seemed to laugh at him.
Wind screamed through narrow cracks, mimicking cruel laughter.
Roots scraped across his back like grasping fingers.
He blinked and saw things that weren't there.
Figures in the snow.
Faces twisted with hate and disappointment.
His mother's eyes, sad and resigned.
Mu's sneer.
The Sect's towers, far away, indifferent.
He snarled, shaking his head violently, black hair whipping.
Blood splattered onto the walls.
He forced the hallucinations away with sheer will.
Inside, the crack widened further.
Heat boiled in his core, pressure building to unbearable levels.
It felt like it would tear him apart.
He collapsed again on his knees, the stone crushing his spine.
He couldn't move for a moment, frozen by pain and exhaustion.
Snow buried him in a cold shroud.
Drop it. Fail. No one will remember you.
The voices were relentless.
He ground his teeth until they cracked.
He forced his fingers to move, curling them around the freezing stone.
Muscles tore and bled as he hauled it up.
He rose in slow, jerky movements, every joint screaming.
Inside, the seal finally split.
He felt it with horrible clarity—a tearing sound, wet and final.
Qi flooded out in a burning wave, no longer contained.
He screamed, voice raw and broken.
The canyon echoed with his agony.
Snow shook loose from the walls, falling around him.
The Qi burned him from the inside out.
It crawled through every vein, lighting his nerves on fire.
He collapsed to all fours, the stone rolling onto the mud.
But he didn't let it fall away.
He grabbed it, hugging it to his chest.
He shook violently as the energy raged.
The crack inside was gone, replaced by a roaring sea of power.
His dantian pulsed, expanding painfully.
The Human Root bloomed to life, drinking in the unleashed Qi.
But it wasn't normal.
It wasn't just Human.
It drank greedily, hungrily, growing stronger.
He felt his bones creak as they thickened.
Muscles knotted with new strength.
His breath evened, deeper, more controlled.
Blood steamed from his wounds as they closed, not fully, but enough to move.
The world sharpened, details crystal clear even in the blizzard.
He felt every trap, every root, every weakness in the stone walls.
His comprehension flared, hungry and precise.
Qi no longer leaked; it flowed with authority, controlled by will.
He exhaled once, slow and measured, mist curling like smoke.
And deep inside, he knew.
He knew its true name.
The sealed power slumbering below this thin layer.
Chaos Root.
He didn't know how he knew.
But he did.
It watched him from the deep.
Judged him.
Promised so much more if he was willing to crawl through hell to claim it.
He let out a shaky laugh.
Low and bitter.
It echoed off the canyon walls like a threat.
He forced himself to stand, dragging the stone back onto his shoulder.
It felt lighter now, manageable, though still heavy enough to bite.
He flexed bloodied fingers around it with new strength.
Snow fell quietly around him, no longer stinging as badly.
The wind seemed to hesitate, just for a moment.
He looked down the path ahead.
Dark.
Twisting.
Hungry.
He bared bloodied teeth in something like a grin.
Took one step.
Then another.
Because tomorrow wasn't for mercy.
It was for proving he would crawl through hell and come out unbroken.
Even if he had to do it alone.