Dawn turned the frost market to ash, the light cold and grey, casting long shadows over the Ice Tally Yard. The yard loomed, its stone walls cold by design, etched with faint sigils that pulsed like veins. The Bellkeeper's Frost Thread slid through a cracked sill, silencing a ward with a faint crackle. Yi distracted a guard with a flicker of frost, Ren opened a drain lid with a silent twist, and Lian took a high perch, her bow trained on the yard's heart.
Qin Mo walked through the front gate, face unhidden, the shard pulsing steadily. He was done hiding.
Envoy Shen stood by a tally beam, his eyes deceptively kind, robes pristine despite the frost. Madam Han, grey-clad and stern, stood beside a wooden box with iron straps, its surface breathing cold, as if alive.
"Punctual," Shen said, voice smooth as polished stone. "The city values that."
Han's eyes scanned Qin Mo, sharp as a blade. "Open the box. Accept or decline quietly."
"Is there a third choice?" Qin Mo asked, his hand resting on his sword.
"Become someone else's problem," Han said, her voice cold as the yard's stone.
Shen lifted the lid, revealing a crystal shimmering with falling snow, its light casting faint shadows that moved like living things. [Opposed essence: Cold (refined). Compatibility: High. Risk: Leash via carrier array.]
Qin Mo touched the iron strap, his fingers tracing its edge. [Pattern Sense: Active — 3 seconds.] Script glowed—two joins, one for the array, one for a hidden chain etched with Silent Tax runes.
"You built a leash into the gift," he said to Han, his voice low, steady.
"A handle," she replied, her eyes narrowing. "Wolves need one."
Shen's smile was faint, almost amused. "Break it, and the story changes. The fragments are keys to the old gods' doors. Azure Flame Sect grows impatient."
Qin Mo's jaw tightened. The Silent Tax, the sect, the bells—all wanted his shard, his freedom. He wouldn't give it.
Frost Thread cracked the strap, the iron splintering like ice. A thin ring fell, etched with a symbol like a coiled bell. Qin Mo palmed the crystal, clean cold filling him—river-ice, not biting, soothing his shard's heat.
[Opposed essence intake: Cold. Balance shift: Heat 50% / Cold 50%. New passive: Stillness Veil — Dampens resonance when stationary.]
The yard's hum softened, the sigils dimming. Han's eyes cooled, her fingers brushing a ring on her hand, its symbol matching the strap's—a Silent Tax mark. "You've taken enough."
Shen slid the box to Han, his smile unwavering. "Walk your road, wolf. The gods are watching."
Qin Mo pocketed the ring. [Chain Segment (Bell-forged): Acquired. Progress: 4/9.]
Yi disabled a snare at the gate, her frost threads weaving through hidden glyphs. Lian's arrow rang a lantern, its light flickering out. Ren's dagger glinted as he covered their exit. The team left through the gate, the ward forgetting them, the yard's cold fading behind.
The Bellkeeper exhaled, her bells chiming softly. "Handle broken. Gift taken. But the Tax never forgets."
Qin Mo felt the cold and heat align, a fragile balance in his veins. "They priced me wrong," he said, the shard pulsing, ready for the next fight.