The roar didn't end.
It dragged on, low and grinding, like stone being chewed apart somewhere beneath the sect's bones. Dust drifted down from the cliff faces. Somewhere to the east, a training pillar cracked clean through with a sound too sharp to be natural.
Lu Yan stayed on his feet.
Not because he was special.
Because something inside him had decided he would.
Bodies moved around him in a loose panic—outer disciples stumbling back, inner ones pushing forward, elders shouting orders that overlapped and tangled. The air tasted wrong. Dry. Like metal left out in the sun.
And underneath it all—
That pressure.
Not crushing. Not violent.
Expectant.
Like something waiting to see what he'd do next.
Careful, the Manual murmured, quieter now. Alert. Attention cuts both ways.
Lu Yan wiped dust from his cheek with the back of his hand. His fingers came away trembling. Not much. Enough that he noticed.
"Don't like being looked at?" he muttered.
I enjoy being wanted, it replied. Being noticed is… risk.
Another groan rolled through the mountain. This one closer. The ground dipped, then steadied, like a held breath released halfway.
A scream cut through the noise.
High. Sharp. Female.
Lu Yan's head snapped toward it before his mind could catch up.
Lin Yue.
He didn't know how he knew.
He just did.
He moved.
Not running. Not charging. Just cutting through the crowd at a steady pace, slipping between bodies, ignoring shouted protests. Someone grabbed his sleeve; he shook it off without breaking stride.
You're not supposed to be here, the Manual noted mildly.
"I know."
Good.
The inner grounds were chaos.
Ice had spread across the stone in jagged veins, frost blooming where Lin Yue and the other ice-aligned disciples had formed a loose barrier. Beyond them, the air warped—rippling, folding in on itself like heat over scorched ground, except cold leaked out of it. Wrong cold. Empty.
A tear.
Not wide. Not stable.
Something pulsed behind it.
Lin Yue stood at the center of the formation, one knee braced against the stone, breath fogging hard in front of her face. Her sleeve was torn. Blood bloomed bright against pale blue.
She didn't look hurt.
She looked angry.
"Hold," she snapped, voice sharp as breaking glass. "Don't let it widen—"
The pressure surged.
One of the disciples cried out and staggered back, clutching his head. The ice formation fractured, lines spiderwebbing outward.
Lin Yue swore under her breath and stepped forward alone.
Too far.
Lu Yan felt it in his chest before anything else.
Now, the Manual whispered.
He didn't think.
He reached out.
Not with power. Not with technique.
With intent.
"Lin Yue."
Her name cut through the noise, carried on nothing but breath and urgency.
She flinched.
Just slightly.
Her head turned.
Their eyes met across the fractured ice and screaming air.
For a heartbeat, the world narrowed to that line of sight. The tear pulsed. The mountain groaned. Everything waited.
"What are you doing here?" she demanded.
He didn't stop walking. "You're overextending."
Her laugh was sharp and humorless. "You shouldn't be anywhere near this."
"Probably."
Another step. Close enough now that the cold bit into his skin, seeping through cloth, into bone. He welcomed it. It grounded him.
"Then leave," she said.
"No."
Her eyes narrowed. "You don't get to say that."
He stopped an arm's length away.
"I just did."
Silence cracked between them, taut and fragile.
Something behind the tear shifted.
The pressure spiked.
Lin Yue's jaw clenched. She turned back toward the formation, lifting her hand—
And Lu Yan caught her wrist.
Not hard.
Firm enough.
The contact was brief.
Electric.
Her breath caught. Not from pain. From surprise.
Golden light flared across his vision, violent and intrusive.
—
[Yin Resonance: Spike Detected]
Target: Lin Yue
Bond Rank: Stranger → Aware (Unstable)
Warning: Emotional feedback active
—
Heat surged up his arm, colliding with her cold, the contrast sharp enough to make his teeth ache.
Lin Yue stared down at his hand on her wrist like it offended her existence.
"Let go," she said quietly.
He did.
Immediately.
Hands up. Open. Non-threatening.
Her wrist stayed where it was for half a breath longer than necessary before she pulled it back.
"You don't touch me," she said.
"I won't again."
Another silence.
Thinner now.
More dangerous.
"Then why are you here?" she asked.
Lu Yan exhaled slowly. "Because if you keep pushing alone, you'll break."
Her eyes flashed. "You think I don't know that?"
"I think you don't care."
That landed.
Not like a blow.
Like a truth she didn't want spoken aloud.
Before she could respond, the tear shuddered violently. The air screamed—literally screamed—and something tried to force its way through, all angles and hunger and absence.
Lin Yue moved instantly, ice flaring bright—
And Lu Yan stepped into her space again.
Not touching this time.
Just close.
Close enough that his shoulder brushed hers.
Close enough that his breath mingled with the fog of hers.
"Don't," she hissed.
"Trust me," he said.
She laughed, breathless and sharp. "You're an outer disciple."
"Yes."
"And you want me to trust you."
"Yes."
Another pulse slammed into the barrier. The formation behind her faltered.
Lin Yue swore softly.
Then—
She didn't move away.
"Thirty breaths," she said tightly. "That's all I can give you."
Lu Yan nodded once.
He closed his eyes.
The Manual surged.
Not loud.
Focused.
You don't need force, it murmured. You need alignment.
"Then align," he whispered back.
He reached inward—not for power, not for strength—but for that thread he'd felt since waking in this world. The pull. The awareness. The way Lin Yue's presence had settled into his chest like unfinished business.
Cold brushed his senses.
Not her ice.
Her restraint.
Loneliness sharpened by discipline. Desire compressed so tightly it had crystallized into control.
He let it touch him.
Didn't fight it.
Didn't consume it.
Just… acknowledged it.
The air stilled.
The tear shuddered—and shrank.
Not closing.
Stabilizing.
Lin Yue sucked in a breath, eyes widening. "What did you—"
The ground steadied.
The pressure eased, retreating like a tide that had tested the shore and decided to wait.
Around them, the formation held. Disciples stared, stunned. Elders shouted orders again, voices urgent but no longer panicked.
Lu Yan opened his eyes.
Lin Yue was staring at him.
Not cold now.
Not angry.
Something else.
"You didn't push," she said slowly.
"No."
"You didn't feed it."
"No."
Her gaze dropped to his chest, where her frost still lingered, faint and unreal. "Then why did it listen?"
He met her eyes. "It wasn't listening to me."
Silence stretched.
Her throat bobbed as she swallowed.
"You should be dead," she said.
"Still time."
A corner of her mouth twitched despite herself.
Then footsteps crunched behind them.
Su Mei.
She took in the scene in a single glance—the stabilized tear, the formation holding, Lin Yue standing far too close to an outer disciple.
Her eyes narrowed.
"What happened?" she asked.
Lin Yue straightened instantly, stepping away from Lu Yan. "Containment held."
"That wasn't my question."
Lin Yue hesitated.
Just for a moment.
Then: "He assisted."
Su Mei's gaze snapped to Lu Yan, sharp enough to cut. "You."
"Yes, Elder."
Her eyes flicked to his hands. Empty. Relaxed.
"You interfered with an inner ground breach."
"Yes."
"And you're still breathing."
"Yes."
Another pause.
Dangerous.
Su Mei stepped closer, close enough that Lu Yan caught that familiar scent again—herbs and something warm beneath. Her voice dropped.
"What are you?"
Lu Yan met her gaze evenly. "Tired."
Something unreadable crossed her face.
Before she could press further, Mo Xian'er's voice cut in from the edge of the grounds.
"Well," she drawled, eyes glittering, "this is getting interesting."
Su Mei's lips pressed thin.
Lin Yue shot Mo Xian'er a warning look.
Lu Yan felt the air shift again—not from the tear this time, but from something far more volatile.
Jealousy.
The Manual hummed, satisfied and dangerous.
—
[Desire Level: 6% → 9%]
Multiple Emotional Vectors Active
—
Su Mei straightened, authority snapping back into place. "This area is sealed. Everyone out."
Mo Xian'er smiled sweetly. "Of course, Elder."
Her eyes lingered on Lu Yan as she turned away.
Lin Yue didn't look at him.
Not immediately.
When she did, her voice was quiet. Controlled. "We're not done."
"I know."
She nodded once, then followed her sect.
Lu Yan was left standing between retreating frost and smoldering curiosity, the mountain finally quiet beneath his feet.
Well done, the Manual purred. You didn't force. You didn't flee.
"What did I do?"
You were chosen.
Lu Yan exhaled slowly, watching as Su Mei paused at the edge of the grounds, glancing back at him one last time.
Her eyes lingered.
Calculating.
"Looks like I'm in trouble," he murmured.
Oh, the Manual replied softly, pleased. This is just the beginning.
Somewhere deep within the mountain, something shifted again.
Not retreating.
Not advancing.
Waiting.
And Lu Yan felt it—clear and undeniable.
The world had noticed him.
And it wasn't done yet.