The cavern opened into a vast, frost-lit chamber, its air thick with a chill that seemed to seep into Qin Mo's very soul. The walls glistened with ice, reflecting the faint blue glow of a bell altar at the center—a massive structure carved from black stone, its surface etched with runes that pulsed like a living heartbeat. The Frostflame Core in his chest thrummed in response, its heat a faint defiance against the cold, and the FFD System chimed a warning in his mind.
[FFD System: Frostflame Balance: Heat 42% / Cold 58%. Silent Tax resonance: 15%.]
Qin Mo's eyes narrowed as he stepped forward, his blade at the ready, the pouch at his side growing heavier with the bells' chime. But it was Ren who froze first, his daggers slipping slightly in his grip as his gaze locked onto a figure chained to the altar. Ren Wei—his brother—hung limp, his pale face etched with hollow eyes, his skin glowing with the same runes that marked the altar. "Wei!" Ren shouted, his voice cracking with a mix of relief and desperation as he rushed forward, boots skidding on the icy floor.
The bells chimed louder, a whisper threading into Wei's voice, soft and eerie. "Ren… the bells sing…" His hands twitched, the frost chains binding him tightening with a metallic clink, their icy links glowing brighter. Qin Mo grabbed Ren's shoulder, pulling him back with a firm grip. "Wait—he's bound," he said, his voice low but urgent. The shard pulsed harder, sensing the danger, and he felt the cold creeping up his legs, a reminder of the Tax's lingering power.
Yi's frost threads lashed out, spiraling toward the chains with a silver gleam, but they held fast, pulsing with the bells' rhythm. Her face twisted with anger, the memory of her burned village flashing in her eyes. "This is their work," she snarled, her threads straining against the unyielding ice. "The same runes that marked my home before it fell."
Ling Shou stepped closer, his frost-white robes catching the chamber's dim light, his expression grave. "The Silent Tax uses him as a conduit," he said, his voice carrying the weight of knowledge Qin Mo didn't yet share. "Break the bell, or you'll lose him to its will."
Ren's hands shook, his daggers trembling as he glared at the altar. "I won't lose him again," he growled, stepping forward and striking the stone with a furious swing. Sparks flew, the impact jarring his arms, but the runes flared in response, a burst of frost burning his hands. He stumbled back with a hiss of pain, clutching his scorched fingers.
[Binding risk: 20%… 25%.]
Qin Mo acted fast, channeling the Frostfang Strike with a surge of ice and fire. The blade crashed into the bell's base, cracking the stone with a resounding crack that echoed through the chamber. Wei gasped, his eyes clearing for a fleeting moment, the runes on his skin dimming briefly. "Run…" he whispered, his voice faint, before his head lolled forward, the chains tightening once more.
The chamber trembled, the ice walls groaning as the bells' whisper turned into a piercing scream, the sound clawing at Qin Mo's ears. He staggered back, the shard burning hotter to counter the cold that threatened to overwhelm him. Yi's threads retracted, her face pale but resolute, while Ren dropped to his knees beside Wei, his hands hovering helplessly over his brother's form. "Wei, stay with me," he pleaded, his voice breaking.
Ling Shou's gaze was fixed on the altar, his expression unreadable. "The bell's hold is strong," he said. "But the crack weakens it. We need to destroy it fully." Qin Mo nodded, his mind racing. The Tax's influence was deeper than he'd thought, using Wei as a puppet to draw them in. But the team's unity was fracturing—Ren's desperation, Yi's rage, and the lingering distrust of Ling Shou's cryptic warnings all threatened to pull them apart.
The altar's runes pulsed again, and a faint shadow moved within the ice—a hint of something larger stirring. Qin Mo tightened his grip on his blade, the Frostflame Core surging with a mix of heat and cold. "We break it," he said, his voice firm despite the chill in his bones. "Together."
But as they prepared to strike, the bells' scream intensified, and Wei's head jerked up, his eyes glowing red. "You can't escape…" he rasped, his voice no longer his own. The chamber's air grew heavier, the frost chains rattling as if alive, and Qin Mo felt the binding risk climb higher. The team exchanged tense glances, the weight of the moment pressing down on them, their resolve tested by the bells' relentless whisper.