Snow fell in heavy curtains, blanketing the world in white silence.
Wei Lian's breath billowed in ragged clouds, each exhale mixing blood and frost.
The stone on his shoulder dug into torn flesh, but it felt… his.
His eyes scanned the path ahead, narrowed against the swirling snow.
Every step was a study in pain, balance, and stubborn will.
The world had shrunk to him, the weight on his back, and the cold that bit deep.
He adjusted his grip, fingers split and bloody but steady.
His shoulder burned, the skin raw and crusted with frozen blood.
But his spine stayed straight.
Inside, Qi pulsed hot and steady.
No longer wild, but controlled.
It felt like a second heartbeat, heavy with promise.
Ahead, the canyon twisted again.
The walls drew in close, black and wet with ice.
Roots dripped poison, hissing as it touched the ground.
He watched one curl toward him, slow as a snake.
He moved past without flinching, body fluid despite its wounds.
His Qi flickered in warning at every danger, his senses sharpened.
He heard a scream behind him.
Wet, guttural, ending with a snap of bone.
He didn't turn around.
They chose their paths.
He chose his.
And he would see it through.
He found another pit, narrow and lined with rusty spikes.
The snow hid its edges deceptively.
He paused, studying the ground.
Carefully, he angled his foot, testing the surface.
The crust of ice cracked but held.
He shifted his weight, muscles coiling like iron cables.
He stepped over, breath held.
The spikes waited hungrily below.
He landed with a wet slap on firmer ground.
Exhaling steam, he adjusted the stone.
It felt heavier than ever, but he refused to drop it.
Pain wasn't the enemy—it was the test.
Inside his dantian, the Human Root blazed.
It drank greedily, refining Qi into sharper, colder power.
He felt every pulse of it feed his muscles, his clarity.
He could sense the traps before he saw them.
A thread of Qi hummed through his limbs, whispering warning.
He smiled despite the split in his lip.
Ahead, ice-coated walls pressed so close he had to turn sideways.
He scraped through, stone biting deeper with every inch.
Blood smeared the rock, steaming in the freezing air.
He blinked snow from his lashes.
Dark circles framed his eyes, sunken but focused.
Breath rattled, harsh but controlled.
He felt the wind shift.
The howl softened into a long, eerie moan.
It felt like the canyon was exhaling its disappointment.
Roots clawed at his hair, tangling in frozen strands.
He tore free with a grunt, leaving pieces behind.
He didn't care.
Blood crusted on his cheek split open again, trickling warmth.
He let it freeze.
It wasn't worth wiping away.
His Qi circled tighter, denser.
The Human Root pulsed with steady hunger.
But beneath it, something deeper stirred.
Chaos Root.
He felt its name vibrate through his bones.
A sleeping beast behind the seal he'd only just cracked.
It was waiting.
Judging.
Promising more.
He welcomed its attention.
Didn't beg.
Didn't plead.
He made a silent vow instead.
That he would break every seal, even if it killed him.
Especially if it killed him.
The canyon walls finally began to widen.
Pale gray light seeped through swirling snow.
He saw the end in the distance, a ragged cut in the cliffs.
Breath hissed from his lungs in relief, but he didn't relax.
He moved carefully, knees aching with every step.
He felt the ice shift treacherously underfoot.
He paused at one last fork.
One side looked smoother, wide and flat, but he felt the wrongness in it.
The other was narrow, littered with bones and broken stakes.
He chose the hard way.
Because he always would.
Because that was who he was.
He stepped over ancient skeletons.
Their empty sockets watched him go.
They would not have his name.
Finally, the last stretch appeared.
A long slope of churned, frozen mud.
Snow piled in uneven drifts, stained with old blood.
The wind died as he approached.
A quiet settled, heavy and watchful.
The canyon seemed to hold its breath.
Wei Lian adjusted the stone one final time.
It ground into healing muscle, warm blood seeping.
But his fingers were steady.
He felt his Qi settle like a blade sheathed.
The Human Root pulsed with quiet hunger, satisfied for now.
He exhaled slowly, fog curling in the silence.
He walked.
One foot in front of the other.
Steady.
Bloodied, battered, but unbowed.
He passed through the canyon's mouth.
Stepped into the open gray world beyond.
Snow fell in thick flakes, muffling sound.
He let it gather on his shoulders, turning him into a statue.
He stood there, stone still resting on his back.
He looked up at the sky.
Gray.
Cold.
But wide.
Open.
Waiting.
Because tomorrow wasn't for mercy.
It was for those willing to crawl through the dark and emerge unbroken.
Even if they had to do it alone.