Lin stopped walking.
It was not deliberate in the way defiance was deliberate. His legs simply refused to take another step, as if the ground beneath his feet had turned unfamiliar, as if his body had reached a quiet conclusion his mind had not yet caught up to.
The rope at his wrists tugged as the cultivator to his left continued forward for half a step before realizing he was no longer being pulled along.
"Keep moving," the woman with the ledger snapped, irritation sharpening her voice. "Or do you want to make this difficult?"
Lin did not answer.
The night air felt heavier than it had moments before. Not oppressive, not hostile, but charged with a strange tension that prickled along his skin. His breath slowed without his consent. His heartbeat followed.
The cultivator on his right frowned.
"Something's wrong," she said quietly.
The woman with the ledger scoffed. "He's stalling."
A faint spark leapt across Lin's forearm.
It was small. Barely visible. A thin thread of pale lightning that crawled along his skin before fading.
The cultivators stiffened.
Both of them turned fully toward him now, attention sharpening in an instant. Their relaxed posture vanished, replaced by readiness honed through years of discipline. Lantern light reflected off their eyes, no longer bored or dismissive, but alert.
"That is not qi," the slimmer cultivator said slowly.
Another spark flickered across Lin's collarbone.
This time it lingered longer, tracing the curve of muscle beneath his skin before vanishing with a faint hiss.
The woman with the ledger took an involuntary step back.
Lin inhaled.
The world tilted.
Then something else took a breath with him.
The change was subtle, but absolute.
His shoulders straightened. His spine aligned. His weight settled evenly through his feet as if he had been standing incorrectly his entire life and only now understood how to exist within gravity.
His breathing deepened, slower and more controlled than he had ever managed on his own.
The cold presence unfurled.
Awareness expanded outward, not violently, not explosively, but with the certainty of steel sliding free from a sheath. Sensation sharpened. Distance clarified. The night resolved into layers of movement and stillness.
Inside, a voice observed without haste.
This body is untouched by cultivation.
Primitive.
Limiting.
The voice continued.
I cannot draw upon Heaven through it.
Lightning crackled faintly across Lin's skin again, brighter now. Not wild, not uncontrolled, but contained, crawling beneath the surface like restrained intent.
The cultivators shifted their stance.
"Drop him," the broader one said.
The woman with the ledger opened her mouth to protest.
Too late.
The first cultivator moved.
She was Bone Tempering. The Presence knew it instantly from the way her muscles contracted, the density beneath her skin evident even before she closed the distance. Bone refined to withstand impact, reinforced to transmit force efficiently. A common stopping point for guards and enforcers.
She struck fast, confident that speed and strength would be enough.
Lin did not dodge.
He stepped forward.
The movement was economical. Minimal. His foot slid across the dirt, his body turning just enough to align with her trajectory. His hand rose, effortlessly breaking the cords binding his wrists, fingers relaxed, palm open.
Lightning flared.
The Presence guided the current through the precise point where her reinforced bone met unrefined flesh, exploiting the minute gap cultivation could not erase.
Her momentum carried her into the strike.
There was a sound like a snapped branch.
The cultivator's body jerked violently before collapsing, her spine severed by force that never appeared larger than a whisper of light.
She hit the ground without a sound.
The second cultivator froze.
Shock rippled across her face before discipline crushed it down. She was Blood Tempering a sub-realm higher than Bone Tempering. Her cultivation ran deeper, reinforcing muscle fibers, organs, circulation. She drew qi instinctively, breath syncing with pulse, preparing to strike harder and endure longer.
The Presence felt the drain immediately. Its saved up reserves depleted quickly.
The lightning dimmed, then surged again as it was forced into tighter channels, compressing output rather than expanding it.
The Blood Tempering cultivator attacked with caution now, her movements precise, technique evident. She aimed for joints, for leverage, for angles that would end the confrontation without leaving her exposed.
She never reached him.
The Presence stepped inside her guard, its timing perfect, its balance absolute. It twisted, redirecting her force into herself, and drove lightning through her chest in a concentrated burst.
Her enhanced blood vessels carried the energy exactly where he wanted it.
Her heart seized.
She fell, eyes wide, mouth opening as if to speak, then went still.
Silence crashed down.
The lantern flickered.
Lightning danced once more across Lin's skin, then sputtered.
Inside, the Presence felt its reserves collapse.
Too much.
The current receded abruptly, leaving behind a hollowness that spread through Lin's limbs like a sudden cold. Control slipped, not violently, but decisively, as if a hand had simply released its grip.
Lin staggered as he regained control.
His knees buckled for a heartbeat before he caught himself, breath ragged, vision swimming.
The world returned with brutal clarity.
Two bodies lay motionless at his feet.
The woman with the ledger did not rush forward.
She watched him closely with a slight trembling in her hands.
Her jaw was tight, lips drawn thin with fury rather than relief. Her eyes moved over him, sharp and searching, measuring the rise and fall of his back, the tremor in his arms, the way his fingers dug into the ground as if holding himself together by force alone.
"Keep kneeling," she snapped after she was assured he was too exhausted to move, voice cutting through the night. "Stay where you are."
Lin did not answer. He could not have, even if he wanted to. His arms shook violently now, his shoulders sagging as exhaustion crushed down on him without mercy.
That seemed to satisfy her.
She stepped forward, boots crunching against the dirt, and knelt beside the fallen cultivator. Without hesitation, she tore the cuffs from the woman's belt, the metal catching the lantern light as she straightened. Her movements were sharp, angry, stripped of the professional calm she had worn so easily before.
"You think this changes anything," she hissed, turning back toward Lin. "You think killing two enforcers makes you free."
She held the cuffs up where he could see.
Her gaze burned into him, raw with humiliation and rage.
"You will remain kneeling," she said coldly. "You will not look up. You will not move unless I tell you to." Her arrogance and overconfidence returning, shadowing her previous fear.
She stepped closer, knife still in one hand, cuffs dangling from the other.
"You are exhausted. You are untrained. And whatever trick you used has already burned itself out."
Her voice dropped, venomous.
"And I am not merciful. I will punish you then sell you to the worst, most cruel master I can find."
Lin's breath hitched. His hands slipped slightly in the dirt as his strength continued to drain away, his body refusing to obey him any longer.
Lin lowered his head, dirt filling his vision, the bodies at his sides only barely within his awareness.
He did not know what choice remained to him.
Only that whatever came next would be decided here.