The moment Mo Lianyin's fingers touched the glowing sphere, the world imploded into a single, blinding pulse of pain.
It wasn't heat that burned through her veins—it was hunger. The sphere wasn't just taking her blood, it was drinking her will, stripping away layers of memory like leaves torn from a branch. Her knees buckled, and she gasped, feeling the Severance Art inside her rise like a tide too vast to contain.
Zevian caught her arm, but the contact only made it worse. The sphere reacted to him, a second current of power latching onto his presence. His expression sharpened instantly. "You didn't tell it my name."
"It—" She bit down on the scream clawing its way up her throat. "It doesn't need it."
The sphere's glow turned a deep, arterial red. Shadows leaked from its surface, curling into her palm, snaking up her arm. They slipped into her like breath into lungs, each one a promise of violence.
Her heart stuttered. The Severance whispered: This is what you wanted. Take it. Become what they fear.
Zevian's hand gripped her shoulder harder. "Lianyin, you have to—"
The lake above them shook.
A deep, resonant boom echoed through the liquid ceiling, scattering silver light. Cracks of crimson began to spread across its surface like veins beneath skin. From somewhere far above came the faint, distorted sound of screams.
"They're here," Zevian said, releasing her and drawing his blade in a single fluid motion. "Bind it now or abandon it—those are your only choices."
She looked into the sphere again. Her reflection wasn't fractured anymore. There was only one face staring back—hers, but with eyes gone black as ink, and lips curled into a predator's smile.
The Severance surged, wrapping around her like a cloak. Say the vow, it hissed.
And she did.
"I bind you by my blood, by my name, and by the shadow that walks in my heart."
The sphere sank into her hand like molten glass, disappearing into her skin with a hiss. Pain ripped through her chest, and for an instant, she felt her heart stop. The next beat came slow, heavy—and far too strong.
A single black lotus bloomed on her palm, its petals shifting faintly as if alive.
Above, the crimson cracks shattered the ceiling entirely. The lake collapsed downward, but instead of drowning them, the water coiled around Lianyin in a spiraling shield. Her body thrummed with the anchor's power, the Severance now a living thing inside her.
Figures dropped through the breach—six of them, robed in blood-red silk, their masks shaped like snarling beasts. The Crimson Lotus Court.
One landed directly on the stone lotus, his boots splintering the ancient petals. "Hand over the anchor," he said, voice muffled by the mask. "And I'll make your death quick."
Lianyin stepped forward, the water twisting around her like a serpent. "You can try."
The first strike came without warning—a burst of scarlet flame hurled toward her. She lifted her hand, and the water reacted before she could even command it, solidifying into a jagged wall of ice. The fire met it with a deafening hiss, filling the chamber with steam.
Through the fog, she moved. The Severance didn't just fuel her body—it guided it, every step and strike faster, sharper. Her blade slid through the first attacker's ribs before he could register she'd moved.
Zevian's sword sang nearby, steel meeting steel in a rhythm that was almost musical.
But the Court kept coming. For each she cut down, two more descended through the shattered lake, their crimson light staining the water.
One of them—a woman with twin crescent blades—managed to graze Lianyin's side. The wound should have bled, but instead, the lotus mark on her palm flared, and the blood flowed upward, vanishing into her skin.
The Severance purred. We drink together.
Her vision sharpened until every droplet of water, every glint of steel was painfully clear. She felt invincible—terrifyingly so.
And that was when she realized: the anchor wasn't hers to command.
It was letting her think she commanded it.
Zevian's voice cut through the roar of battle. "Lianyin! Don't lose yourself—"
A masked attacker lunged at him, forcing him back, and his warning was swallowed by the clash of blades.
She moved again, cutting down another figure in a single, merciless strike. The water obeyed her, the ice obeyed her, the Severance obeyed her—
No. They all obeyed the anchor.
And the anchor wanted more.
When the last of the six fell, the chamber fell silent except for the slow, echoing drip of water. Zevian stood with his blade lowered, breathing hard, blood streaking his temple.
"You bound it," he said, his tone unreadable.
"Yes."
"And now it's bound you."
Lianyin looked down at her palm. The black lotus shimmered faintly, and for the briefest moment, she thought she felt it… smile.
Above them, the lake's surface was already knitting itself back together, sealing them in.
The Severance whispered, almost tenderly: Let me show you what we can become.