The Frost Thread pulled again.
It did not pull like a rope.
It pulled like a rule.
Ling Xueyao's body jerked as if winter grabbed her heart from the inside. Frost ran up her throat in a thin, cruel line. Her breath turned white, and the air around her cracked with tiny sounds, like ice breaking in the dark.
The glowing words above the Court platform stayed cold and simple.
INTEREST WILL BE COLLECTED.SOURCE: A CONSORT.
The Court elders did not hide their smiles anymore.
They hovered above the dome like judges watching an execution. Some of them looked at Qi Shan Wei as if they had finally found a way to make him kneel.
Outside the dome, thousands of cultivators held their breath. A few were shaking, not because of fear for Ling Xueyao, but because they understood what it meant.
If the bell could take a consort thread as "interest"…
Then no bond was safe.
Then love could be turned into debt.
Qi Shan Wei's silver streak at his temple caught the prismatic light. He did not touch it. He did not react to it. He did not look wounded.
He looked annoyed.
Like a ruler reading a bad law.
His golden eyes stayed steady on the Time-Debt Ledger. The hook was still there, thin and shining, connected to him by a line of "years." It had already taken a slice of his future.
Now it wanted a slice of his heart.
Ling Xueyao tried to lift her chin, pride fighting the pull. Her lips parted, but no clean words came out. Only a small sound, like pain swallowed before it could become weakness.
"Shan… Wei…"
The Frost Thread yanked harder.
Her knees bent.
A pale moon shadow flickered behind her—huge, quiet, terrifying.
Her Lunar Frost Domain was trying to awaken.
Not because she wanted it.
Because she was being forced.
Zhen moved at once.
The moving fortress shield tightened around Ling Xueyao, Drakonix's cocoon, and Qi Shan Wei. The Imperial Shield Matrix hummed, and its second layer shifted like a living wall.
Zhen's voice came out flat and fast. "Threat confirmed: bond extraction. Priority: protect consort thread."
The Court elder snapped, "Do not call her that!"
Zhen turned his head slowly. "Correction: she is the Frost Thread source. That is the bell's target. My label is accurate."
Drakonix's new wings trembled inside the cracked cocoon. His prismatic flame rose, then paused, like a beast smelling a predator it could not fully bite yet.
"Bell…" Drakonix growled, voice rough and newborn. "Greedy…"
The Silent Bell envoy's bell trembled on his chest and rang once—sharp, warning.
"This is the Interest Clause," the envoy said, voice tight. "When time collects, it seeks the closest stabilizing bond. It takes what holds the debtor steady."
He looked at Ling Xueyao, and for the first time his eyes showed something like regret.
"The bell believes she is your anchor."
Qi Shan Wei answered calmly, "It is wrong."
The envoy swallowed. "The bell does not care about truth. It cares about balance."
Qi Shan Wei lifted Heavenpiercer slightly.
The sword did not blaze. It did not scream.
It just existed with pressure, like a silent command.
"Then I will correct its balance," he said.
The words were simple.
But the dome felt like it got heavier, like the world leaned closer to listen.
Another bell tone came from beyond the realm—deep, ancient, and too old.
The Frost Thread pulled so hard that light cracks appeared along it, like hairline fractures in a glass star.
Ling Xueyao's eyes widened.
Not with fear of pain.
With fear of being lost.
Fear of waking in the next cycle and not finding the path back.
Qi Shan Wei took one step toward her.
He did not rush.
He did not show panic.
But the air moved around him like it was making space for its ruler.
He placed his palm over her wrist again—over the prismatic bracelet formation he had put there earlier. His touch was light, not claiming, not playful. It was steady. Protective. A guard placed on a gate.
"Breathe," he said.
Ling Xueyao's throat trembled. She forced one breath in.
Qi Shan Wei matched it.
Their breaths aligned, slow and controlled, like a shared cultivation rhythm.
For one heartbeat, the Frost Thread's pull weakened, just a little, like it had hit a wall.
The Court elders noticed.
Their smiles tightened.
One elder hissed, "He is using her to resist the bell."
Qi Shan Wei did not look up. His voice stayed calm. "I am using myself."
Then he spoke, not to the elders, not to the envoy.
He spoke to the Time-Debt Ledger.
"Collect from me," he said again. "Not from her."
The glowing words above the platform flickered like a flame offended by wind.
The Ledger did not answer with a voice.
It answered with pressure.
The hook tightened.
The Frost Thread yanked again.
Ling Xueyao gasped, and the pale moon behind her flashed brighter, nearly forming into a full moon of frost and law.
The battlefield temperature dropped sharply.
Dust froze midair.
Blood droplets turned into tiny red crystals.
Frozen law touched everything.
For one heartbeat, even the bell's pull slowed, as if time itself hesitated.
The Silent Bell envoy's eyes widened in shock. "She's… freezing the law pull."
He looked at Qi Shan Wei, alarmed. "If her Domain awakens like this, uncontrolled, she may break herself to stop it."
Qi Shan Wei answered quietly, "She will not break."
Ling Xueyao's eyes flicked to him. There was pain there. Pride there. And something else—something rare.
Trust.
The moon shadow behind her trembled.
Then it surged again as the bell pushed.
The Frost Thread screamed in silence.
Light fractures spread along it.
Qi Shan Wei's calm turned colder.
He raised two fingers, and a "simple" formation disc appeared—bronze and plain.
Silent Meridian Guard Array.
To the world, it was an estate protection tool.
Here, Qi Shan Wei used it like a royal seal.
The formation spread out, not as a wall, but as a rule that listened for hostile intent.
The instant the bell's pull tried to become "extraction," the formation flared.
Not enough to stop it.
But enough to expose the shape of it.
A thin invisible line appeared—like a path the bell's hook was traveling through.
Qi Shan Wei's eyes narrowed.
"So that is where you move," he said.
The Silent Bell envoy stiffened. "You can see the hook's path?"
Qi Shan Wei did not answer.
Because the Thousand Masks Pavilion chose that moment to strike.
They did not send normal assassins this time.
They sent a watcher with a different mask—older, carved with thin lines like a grave marker. Their hands were covered in pale cloth, and between their fingers was a needle so thin it looked like a strand of hair.
But its tip glowed with a wrong kind of light.
Not poison.
Not shadow.
Name rewrite.
The watcher whispered, voice shaking. "One stab… and her bond becomes a ghost across cycles…"
They moved like a trained machine.
Straight for Ling Xueyao.
Straight for the Frost Thread.
Zhen reacted instantly.
Imperial Shield Matrix surged forward like a moving fortress wall.
The needle hit the shield—
And did not bounce.
It sank halfway in.
The shield layer shuddered.
Zhen's eyes flared red. His voice came out flat, but for the first time it carried strain.
"Warning: needle is not physical. It is written."
Drakonix hissed, flame rising. "Burn it…"
Drakonix's prismatic flame touched the needle's glow.
The needle did not melt like metal.
It resisted, like it was made of law.
But it still burned.
The needle's light flickered.
The watcher's mask cracked, and their voice became fear. "It's burning—how is it burning?!"
Drakonix snarled, proud and angry. "My fire… eats words…"
Zhen added, blunt timing, "I also dislike words."
Drakonix snapped, "Not now!"
Zhen replied calmly, "It is always now."
The humor died instantly as the bell pulled again.
The Frost Thread tore a little.
A tiny piece of frost light peeled away like a ripped page.
Ling Xueyao's face went pale enough to look like snow.
Qi Shan Wei moved.
He did not leap.
He did not explode.
He stepped.
He stepped into the thin invisible line that Silent Meridian Guard had revealed—the bell's hook path.
It should have been impossible.
It should have crushed him.
But he moved like a ruler walking into a courtroom that belonged to him.
For one blink, his body blurred into seven faint afterimages, like a prism splitting light.
Heavenstep Flash.
Not a full teleport.
Not a loud technique.
A clean refusal of the expected moment.
He appeared beside the needle and placed two fingers on it.
The watcher froze.
Because they felt something.
Not killing intent.
Not anger.
A calm pressure that said, you are finished.
Qi Shan Wei's voice was quiet. "You tried to rewrite a bond."
He turned the needle slightly.
The needle screamed—yes, screamed—as if words could feel pain.
Then Qi Shan Wei drew a small prismatic circle in the air.
A simple disc.
Nine-Fold Stillwater Barrier.
He placed it around the needle's law.
The needle's glow slowed, like it got trapped in deep water.
The watcher's eyes went wide. "What are you doing—?!"
Qi Shan Wei answered calmly, "Calming it."
He pushed.
Prismatic energy flowed like a steady river.
The needle's rewrite light dimmed, then collapsed like wet ash.
It did not explode.
It did not lash out.
It died quietly.
The watcher stumbled back, shaking. "That… that was a Pavilion heir needle…"
Qi Shan Wei turned his head slightly. "And it failed."
The watcher's mask fully cracked.
Under it was a time-mark on their cheek, burned deep into their spirit.
The Silent Bell envoy's face tightened. "Tagged."
Qi Shan Wei's eyes sharpened. "Bait."
The envoy's jaw tensed. "Yes. Someone paid the Pavilion. Someone used their clause. Someone wants the Court to blame you while the bell eats your bonds."
The Court elders stiffened.
One elder shouted, "Lies!"
Qi Shan Wei did not even look at him.
He looked at the Time-Debt Ledger.
Because the ledger had started to write a new line.
A new sentence formed slowly, like a judge speaking.
VOW ACCEPTED—ESCAPE WINDOW: ONE FLASH.
The words hung in the air like a door opening for a single heartbeat.
The Silent Bell envoy's eyes widened. "It accepted your vow… and offered you a gap."
Zhen's voice came fast. "Request: define 'flash'."
Qi Shan Wei's calm gaze stayed fixed on the words. "A moment between moments."
He turned toward Ling Xueyao.
She was shaking, holding herself upright with pure pride and pain. The moon shadow behind her was almost full now, but unstable. Frozen law scars flickered around her like a storm trying to become a sky.
The Frost Thread above the platform still pulled taut.
If it tore again, something would be lost.
Not in this life only.
Across cycles.
Qi Shan Wei lifted his hand.
He did not caress.
He did not flirt.
He placed two fingers under Ling Xueyao's wrist, lifting it slightly, like a ruler lifting a sword.
His prismatic bracelet formation brightened.
Then he spoke a vow—simple English, but emperor weight.
"Your thread will not be taken," he said. "Not by time. Not by Court. Not by anyone."
Ling Xueyao's eyes widened. Her lips trembled. "That vow—"
"I know," Qi Shan Wei said.
Because vows had consequences.
Fate heard them.
Time heard them.
Enemies heard them.
He spoke anyway.
Because he did not lead with fear.
The ledger words flared.
The escape window line brightened like a lightning crack.
The Silent Bell envoy hissed, urgent now. "If you use it, you must move immediately. One flash means one chance."
Qi Shan Wei nodded once.
Then he gave orders like a war commander.
"Zhen," he said calmly. "Anchor the Frost Thread to your shield."
Zhen turned his head, computation speed rising. "Risk: if bell pulls thread, it will pull shield layer. Shield may fracture."
Qi Shan Wei answered, "Then let it pull the shield."
Zhen did not hesitate.
He extended his hand toward the glowing Frost Thread above the platform.
His Imperial Shield Matrix formed a prismatic tether—thick, layered, alive.
The tether reached up and wrapped the Frost Thread like a protective band.
Not cutting it.
Not stealing it.
Holding it.
The tether locked into Zhen's moving fortress core.
The Frost Thread's pull shifted.
Now, when the bell yanked—
It yanked Zhen's fortress layer too.
Zhen's core hummed, and his voice came out flat.
"Status: I am now being taxed by time."
Drakonix snarled from inside the cocoon. "Good… share pain…"
Zhen replied, "Pain is inefficient. But I accept."
The Court elders shouted in anger.
"Stop that!"
"You cannot interfere with the bell's collection!"
Qi Shan Wei did not answer them.
He lifted Heavenpiercer and pointed it at the edge of the Court-made dome.
That dome was a prison.
It had held him too long.
The pacing of the world demanded movement.
Now he had an "escape window."
He would use it.
The Silent Bell envoy's bell rang once—clear, sharp.
The whole dome shuddered like it knew something was about to break.
Ling Xueyao's moon shadow flared again, and for one heartbeat the air turned into a frozen galaxy.
Time hesitated.
Sound hesitated.
Even the bell's pull hesitated.
That was the "flash."
Qi Shan Wei moved.
Not forward.
Not up.
Not out.
He stepped into the flash like stepping into a crack.
He followed the hook's path line—like walking where lightning had already been.
For one blink, he was not inside the dome.
He was inside the thin space between the dome and the bell's law.
It felt wrong.
It felt like standing between two pages of a book while the book tried to close.
But Qi Shan Wei stayed calm.
He raised Heavenpiercer.
Then he struck—not at stone, not at metal—
At the place where the bell's hook "did not exist."
The sword tip touched emptiness.
The emptiness screamed.
A thin silver crack appeared across the Court dome, like a hairline fracture in a mirror.
Outside the dome, people shouted.
"Cracked it!"
"He cut the Court barrier!"
"Impossible!"
The Court elders' faces turned ugly with panic. "Seal it! Seal it now!"
The Silent Bell envoy's eyes went wide. "You are cutting the law seam…"
Qi Shan Wei's voice stayed calm even inside that wrong space. "Everything has a seam."
The bell answered.
Not with anger.
With weight.
The interest pull surged like a giant hand.
It yanked the Frost Thread—
But now it yanked Zhen's shield tether too.
Zhen's fortress layer groaned.
Light cracks spread across the shield like spiderwebs.
Zhen's voice came out steady. "Damage acceptable. I will not release."
Drakonix roared.
He bit another lightning line that flashed in the sky from the bell's pressure.
He swallowed it.
His prismatic flame exploded outward and wrapped Ling Xueyao in a burning, protective ring—hot, but not harming her.
A strange balance formed.
Frost law and flame law.
Moon and dragon.
Ling Xueyao's eyes widened as she felt it.
Her Lunar Frost Domain steadied for one heartbeat longer.
Enough.
Enough for Qi Shan Wei to move again.
He stepped once more inside the flash seam.
Heavenstep Flash afterimages split like prismatic ghosts.
Then he drove Heavenpiercer deeper into the crack.
The Court dome split wider.
A real opening formed—thin, but real.
A door.
The Silent Bell envoy cried out, "If you leave the dome while the debt line is active, time may chase you!"
Qi Shan Wei's answer was calm.
"Then it will chase an emperor."
The Court elders roared, furious.
"Stop him!"
"Kill him!"
Thousand Masks watchers moved again, desperate now, throwing their last tools—small slips of paper with contract lines, trying to rebuild "karmic-free kill" clauses.
Drakonix's flame touched them.
The words burned.
The contracts screamed and turned into smoke.
Drakonix hissed proudly, jealous even now, wings flaring like a storm.
"No writing… on him…"
Zhen, still holding the tether, added bluntly, "The young lord is correct. Writing is annoying."
Drakonix snapped, "Shut!"
Zhen replied, "I do not shut."
Qi Shan Wei did not react to the bickering.
He used it.
He used the breath they stole from fear.
He used the tiny distraction.
He stepped back from the crack and placed his palm over Ling Xueyao's wrist again.
His prismatic bracelet pulsed.
He looked at her with calm certainty.
"Move with me," he said.
Ling Xueyao's pride flared.
Even shaking, even hurting, she nodded once.
"I will," she whispered.
Qi Shan Wei turned toward the opening in the dome.
The crack was there.
The escape window line still glowed faintly, like a door that would close soon.
He was about to pull them through—
When the Time-Debt Ledger wrote one more line.
A new sentence formed under the "escape window."
ESCAPE ACCEPTED.BUT INTEREST MUST FOLLOW.
The Silent Bell envoy's face went pale.
"That means…" he whispered.
Qi Shan Wei's eyes narrowed slightly.
It meant time would not stop chasing his bonds.
It meant the bell would not let the Frost Thread go just because he left a cage.
It meant this was not the end.
It was the next stage.
The bell rang again.
And this time, the sound carried a new shape—like a lock clicking.
A silver chain of light formed in the sky, connecting the ledger to the cracked opening.
A leash.
A pursuit line.
The interest clause was now mobile.
Ling Xueyao's Frost Thread yanked again.
Zhen's shield tether cracked harder.
Drakonix's flame surged.
Qi Shan Wei lifted Heavenpiercer for a final move—
To cut the leash.
To cut the chase.
To cut the bell's claim.
And the air itself held its breath.
Because if he failed, the Frost Thread would tear.
And if he succeeded…
He would have just declared war on time.
To be Continued
© Kishtika., 2026
All rights reserved.