The words in the sky did not fade.
They stayed there, bright and cold, like a law written on the bones of the realm.
COLLECTION DELAYED. MARK APPLIED.NEXT PAYMENT: ONE CONSORT THREAD.
The Court dome felt smaller after that.
Not because the barrier moved.
Because everyone inside it suddenly understood they were standing in a room with a judge who did not need their permission.
The Silent Bell envoy did not move for a long moment. His hands were still together. His silver bell shook against his chest, not like a toy, but like a living thing that was listening to an older sound far away.
The Court elders floated in a wide arc above the platform. Their faces were tight. Their eyes were sharp. But none of them looked proud now.
They looked like people trying to bargain with winter.
Qi Shan Wei stood beneath the glowing words, calm and straight. Heavenpiercer was in his hand, not raised, not lowered. It was simply there, like a line that said: I will not be pushed.
Ling Xueyao stood near him, breathing slowly. The frost in the air around her did not spread wildly anymore. It stayed close to her skin, like a quiet storm held in a small bottle.
Behind her, the pale moon-shadow flickered once… then steadied. It was still not a full moon. But it was no longer a mistake.
It was a warning.
Zhen took one step forward, placing his body slightly between Qi Shan Wei and the platform. His eyes were empty, but his shield lines were bright, clean, and ready.
Behind them, the cocoon cracked again.
A loud, ugly sound tore through the air, like stone breaking under a mountain.
Two prismatic wings spread wider.
Drakonix's body was still half-covered by cracked shell and burning threads, but his wings were real now—sharp, shining, and alive. Prismatic fire rolled off them in slow waves, like the sky was sweating rainbow heat.
His voice came out rough and low, still young, still angry.
"Mine… not yours…"
It was not a joke. It was a claim.
Some cultivators outside the dome flinched just from the sound. A few fell to their knees again, because the dragon's bloodline pressure made their hearts beat too fast.
The Court elder with the coldest eyes spoke first.
"One consort thread," he said slowly, tasting the words like he liked them. "Good. Then we choose."
The Silent Bell envoy's head turned. His eyes were flat.
"You do not choose," he said.
The elder's jaw tightened. "The Court rules this realm."
The envoy's bell rang once, very softly.
And the air felt older again.
"The Bell rules the debt," the envoy said.
A second elder leaned forward, voice sharp. "If the Bell takes one thread, then we will offer the weakest thread. We will offer the least important bond."
Ling Xueyao's breath caught. Her fingers curled.
Qi Shan Wei did not react with anger. He only looked up at the six glowing threads above the platform.
They were beautiful in a frightening way.
Six thin lines of light, each carrying a different color, a different feeling, a different "pull" in the air.
And now, all six trembled like hunted birds.
Qi Shan Wei's voice was calm, but colder than before.
"You will not touch them."
The first elder smiled. "The Bell will touch them."
Qi Shan Wei's eyes narrowed slightly.
"Then I will stop the Bell," he said.
The Court elder laughed once. "Stop time?"
Qi Shan Wei did not look at him.
He looked at the sky text again.
His true name lock still sat around his heart like quiet rings of authority. It was stable. It was clean. It did not shake.
But the Bell's mark—thin, invisible most of the time—was there.
It was on him now.
A promise of return.
The Silent Bell envoy watched him carefully.
"You have delayed collection," the envoy said. "That is already rare. But if you force another delay, the Bell will become crueler."
Qi Shan Wei's voice stayed even.
"It already is," he said.
A ripple moved through the crowd outside the dome.
Whispers rose like insects.
"Consort thread…""Is it real?""Six of them…""Who is he?""Why would time care about romance?""No—those are fate anchors…"
Above the platform, one of the threads brightened for a heartbeat.
Not frost.
Not fire.
A soft shadow-light that felt like a mask turning.
Yin Yuerin's thread.
A Thousand Masks watcher outside the dome jerked hard when it happened, like the light had slapped them.
And then—
A scream.
Not inside the dome.
Outside.
A masked figure fell from a high seat, clutching their throat. A thin silver crack ran across their neck like a line drawn by an unseen pen.
They choked once.
Then their body turned gray, like ash.
They collapsed without blood.
The crowd recoiled in horror.
Zhen's head turned slightly. "Observation: a time-tagged unit was erased."
Qi Shan Wei's eyes sharpened. "They are purging."
The Silent Bell envoy's voice became tight.
"The Pavilion is cleaning its trail," he said.
Outside the dome, more masked figures began to move. Not toward Qi Shan Wei.
Away from each other.
Separating.
Erasing links.
One of them raised a hand and pressed a seal into their own chest.
They smiled under the mask like they were proud.
Then they shattered into dust.
The crowd screamed again.
"Why are they killing themselves?" someone shouted.
A different masked figure hissed, voice shaking.
"Because they were tagged… and someone is afraid he will read the buyer line…"
Qi Shan Wei's gaze went cold.
He did not chase them.
He did not rush.
He simply lifted two fingers and drew a thin prismatic line in the air.
A "simple" public formation disc appeared—World-Grid Early Warning—the same kind nobles used to protect estates.
But in his hands, it did not spread like a fence.
It spread like a sky-map.
A clean web of lines flashed across the air above the dome, touching many points in the crowd outside.
Some points stayed normal.
Some points flickered.
Those flickering points were the time-tags.
The crowd outside froze when they saw it.
A sect elder gasped. "He's scanning the whole hall!"
Qi Shan Wei's voice was quiet.
"Time-tags are not invisible," he said. "They are only unseen by those who do not know where to look."
The Silent Bell envoy's eyes narrowed.
"That scan… is too accurate," he muttered.
Qi Shan Wei looked at him. "Because I am not reading their masks. I am reading the Bell's handwriting."
That line made the envoy's face tighten again.
The Court elders did not like that. One of them barked, "Enough! Your tricks do not change the verdict!"
The sky words flared brighter.
The six threads trembled harder.
And then—
The sky above the realm opened.
Not like a tear in cloth.
Like a wound in the world.
A huge shadow moved behind that opening.
Round.
Heavy.
Slow.
A bell.
Not a small bell.
A giant bell-shadow, bigger than mountains, descending without sound.
The moment it appeared, everyone inside the dome felt their childhood memories shake.
Not because they remembered something sweet.
Because they remembered fear.
A fear older than their current lives.
Some cultivators outside the dome began to cry without understanding why.
A few whispered, "Mother…" even if their mothers were dead.
The Silent Bell envoy's hands clenched together tighter.
"That should not be here," he said.
A Court elder's eyes widened. "What is that?"
The envoy's voice dropped low.
"A bell-shadow is a collection presence," he said. "It is not an envoy. It is not a message."
His eyes turned to Qi Shan Wei.
"It is a hand."
Ling Xueyao's breath trembled.
The moon-shadow behind her flickered violently now, reacting to the pressure like ice reacting to boiling water.
Qi Shan Wei stepped half a pace closer to her.
Not to hide behind her.
To place his presence between her and the sky.
He did not touch her face.
He did not say anything soft.
He only did one calm thing.
He placed his palm lightly over her wrist again.
The same place as before.
The same steady guard.
A prismatic line formed like a bracelet.
Not a chain.
A promise.
Ling Xueyao's eyes widened slightly.
She understood what it meant.
I will not let them pull you alone.
Her throat tightened, but she nodded once.
"I will hold," she whispered.
Qi Shan Wei's voice was quiet.
"I know," he said.
The two words hit her harder than any praise.
Because he did not say them like comfort.
He said them like truth.
Above the platform, the Court elders began to argue quickly.
"If the Bell takes one thread, we can direct it—""We can sacrifice the frost one—""No, the shadow one is dangerous—""We should offer the lightning thread, it is unstable—""Shut up—if we choose wrong, the Bell will take two—"
The Silent Bell envoy cut through them.
"You are not feeding it," he said. "Stop pretending you can."
A Court elder snarled, "Then what do you want? You brought this here!"
The envoy's eyes flashed. "I did not bring the shadow."
He looked up at the descending bell-shape.
His jaw tightened like he was tasting something bitter.
"The Bell came because someone inside the law pulled too hard," he said. "Someone used Bell-Law without permission."
Qi Shan Wei's eyes narrowed. "The missing Bell Keeper."
The envoy's face went still.
He did not deny it.
And that silence was louder than a shout.
Zhen's core flared.
His voice stayed flat, but the words carried weight.
"Request: permission to activate Name-Shelter Layer."
Qi Shan Wei answered instantly.
"Activate," he said.
Zhen's armor lines shifted again. The dome's defense pattern changed, not growing thicker, but changing "meaning."
The air around the group became strangely quiet.
Like a room padded with soft cloth.
Like names could not echo properly inside it.
A Court elder hissed. "What is that?"
Zhen answered simply. "Name-Shelter Layer. Purpose: hide bonds from fate and time."
The Silent Bell envoy's eyes widened.
"That is forbidden engineering," he said sharply. "That layer is… close to Bell-law."
Qi Shan Wei's voice stayed calm.
"It is close to logic," he said. "Time pulls what it can find. Then it must not find."
Drakonix hissed from the cocoon, proud and angry at the same time.
"Hide… hide… yes…"
Then he added, because he still had the spirit of a sacred menace:
"But… no hiding… from me."
Zhen replied without emotion, with perfect timing.
"Confirmed. No system can hide from Drakonix."
Drakonix made a rough sound that was almost a laugh, then turned it into a growl.
"Good."
The humor lasted one breath.
Then the bell-shadow dropped lower.
The dome shook.
Not from force.
From "pressure."
The sky words changed.
Not slowly.
Fast.
As if the Bell was done talking.
PAYMENT REQUIRED NOW.
The six threads flared bright.
And then the worst thing happened.
The Bell did not choose randomly.
It looked.
It listened.
It tasted the air.
It felt which thread was stabilizing Qi Shan Wei the most in this moment.
And it chose the one that mattered.
The Frost Thread.
It brightened like a white star.
Ling Xueyao's body jerked.
Her breath left her mouth in a sharp gasp.
It felt like a hook had sunk into her heart again.
Her Lunar Frost Domain flickered wildly, trying to awaken fully in panic.
The moon-shadow behind her flashed brighter, huge and cold.
Qi Shan Wei's voice stayed calm, but it dropped into command.
"Xueyao," he said. "Freeze the words. One breath."
Ling Xueyao clenched her teeth.
She did not scream.
She did not beg.
She took the pain and used it.
Her eyes turned like moonlight.
And she released one breath of frozen law—cleaner than before, sharper than before.
A pale frost wave touched the sky text.
For one breath…
The words slowed.
The Bell's demand hesitated.
The hook pulled, but it stiffened like metal in ice.
Ling Xueyao trembled, blood spotting the corner of her lip.
"One breath," she whispered, voice breaking.
Qi Shan Wei moved inside that breath.
He did not swing Heavenpiercer wildly.
He did not try to cut the bell-shadow.
He did something smarter.
He raised two fingers and drew a formation directly around the Frost Thread.
Not a blade.
Not a net.
An anchor.
Heaven-Anchor.
But this time, he did not anchor it to the air.
He anchored it to his own heart-lock.
He connected the thread to his True Name Lock rings.
He made a bridge made of authority.
So the Bell could not pull her without pulling him.
The Court elders gasped.
Because they understood what that meant.
If the Bell collected the thread, it would touch the emperor's core directly.
The Silent Bell envoy's face went pale.
"Are you insane?" he snapped. "That will make the Bell strike harder!"
Qi Shan Wei's eyes stayed steady.
"Let it," he said.
The ice breath ended.
The words in the sky snapped back to full speed.
The hook yanked.
Hard.
The Frost Thread screamed—not with a human voice, but with a sharp, bright vibration that made everyone's bones hurt.
Ling Xueyao cried out, but she did not fall.
Because Qi Shan Wei's bridge pulled back with her.
His heart-lock rings flared.
His calm did not crack.
But the pressure hit him too now, like a mountain pressing on his chest.
The Bell-shadow above the realm shuddered, like it had found something it wanted more.
The Silent Bell envoy whispered, voice shaking.
"It can taste your true name through that bridge."
Qi Shan Wei's voice stayed calm, even while the pressure climbed.
"Then it will also taste my refusal," he said.
Drakonix's prismatic flames surged again—different now.
Less wild.
More focused.
He aimed his flame not at the thread.
Not at Ling Xueyao.
He aimed at the invisible hook.
At the time-tag "grip" itself.
His wings spread wide.
His voice came out low and angry.
"Burn… hook…"
The flame touched the hook.
The hook did not vanish.
It was too old.
But it hurt.
For the first time, the Bell-shadow above the sky trembled like it felt pain.
The crowd outside the dome screamed.
Some shouted, "The dragon is burning TIME!"
The Court elders' faces changed.
Fear cracked through their control.
Because if a newborn dragon could bite Bell-law…
Then what would it become later?
Zhen's Name-Shelter Layer flared brighter, wrapping the group like a moving fortress of quiet.
Qi Shan Wei's voice stayed controlled.
"Zhen," he said, "tighten the shelter. Protect the threads."
"Executing," Zhen replied.
The dome's inside-space shifted slightly, like reality itself was being guided.
The Frost Thread stopped tearing for one heartbeat.
Just one.
But that heartbeat was enough for Ling Xueyao to breathe again.
Her eyes met Qi Shan Wei's.
Pain was there.
But something else was there too.
Trust.
Not soft.
Not cute.
Sharp.
Strong.
Like two swords crossing in a storm.
Qi Shan Wei looked back at her.
His voice stayed quiet.
"Hold," he said.
Ling Xueyao nodded once.
"I will," she whispered.
Above them, the Bell-shadow descended lower.
And the sky text changed again, like a judge losing patience.
IF THREAD RESISTS… THEN TAKE NAME INSTEAD.
The Silent Bell envoy's face turned hard.
"Stop!" he shouted at the air, like he was speaking to a god. "This is not proper collection!"
The bell-shadow did not answer.
It only lowered.
And the pressure around Qi Shan Wei's true name lock rings rose like floodwater.
Qi Shan Wei's eyes narrowed to a calm point.
He lifted Heavenpiercer.
Not to threaten the Court.
Not to strike an elder.
He raised it toward the bell-shadow itself.
His voice was steady.
"You are not taking her thread," he said.
Then his voice turned even colder.
"And you are not taking my name."
Heavenpiercer's tip began to glow.
Not with fire.
Not with lightning.
With something thin and sharp that felt like a law being drawn into a blade.
A fate-cut edge.
A prismatic emperor edge.
The air around the blade made a quiet sound—like the world was holding its breath.
The Silent Bell envoy whispered, horrified.
"He's going to cut the collection hand…"
The Court elders screamed, "Stop him!"
But it was already too late to stop the calm.
Because the calm had decided.
Qi Shan Wei stepped forward.
Heavenpiercer rose.
And he struck upward at the place where the bell-shadow touched the world—
A place that should not be cut.
A place that should not even be reachable.
The realm screamed.
The bell-shadow trembled.
And a thin crack of silver light appeared in the sky…
Like a giant bell had just been wounded.
To be Continued
© Kishtika., 2025
All rights reserved.