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Chapter 42 - Yi’s Vengeance

The chamber's silence shattered as the last echoes of the frost wraith's demise faded, leaving the air thick with a lingering chill. Qin Mo stood, blade still in hand, the Frostflame Harmony tingling through him like a newfound rhythm, while Ren cradled Wei, whose shallow breaths were the only sound breaking the tension. The ice walls pulsed with faint runes, their glow casting eerie shadows, and the bells' chime from Qin Mo's pouch resumed, a soft but insistent pull that set his nerves on edge. The FFD System remained quiet, but the weight of the towers' presence pressed down, promising no rest.

[FFD System: Frostflame Balance: Heat 35% / Cold 65%.]

Before anyone could catch their breath, the ground rumbled, and the mist parted to reveal a group of figures—Azure Flame Sect remnants, their azure robes tattered but their jade tokens glowing with cold fury. Their leader, a scarred woman with a frostfire whip, stepped forward, her eyes narrowing at Qin Mo. "The core belongs to the sect," she hissed, her voice dripping with venom. "You'll pay for the elder's blood."

Yi's stance shifted, her frost threads coiling around her hands like living serpents, her face hardening as memories of her burned village surged to the surface. "You did this," she spat, her voice trembling with rage. "Your sect razed my home, left ashes where my family stood." The woman smirked, cracking her whip, and the fight erupted.

Qin Mo lunged, the Frostflame Blade clashing with a sect blade, sparks flying as he parried a thrust aimed at his chest. The heat of his strike melted the ice beneath, giving him footing, but the cold bit back, sapping his strength. Yi moved like a storm, her threads lashing out, wrapping around the whip-wielder's arm and yanking her off balance. The woman snarled, slashing with the whip, but Yi ducked, her threads tightening until the weapon snapped, the crack echoing off the walls.

Ren rose, leaving Wei propped against the pillar, his daggers flashing as he joined the fray. He drove a blade into a sect member's side, the man crumpling with a gasp, but another swung a frostfire staff, forcing Ren to roll aside. Lian's arrows flew, each shot precise, piercing a scout's shoulder and sending him staggering back. The team's coordination was fierce, driven by Yi's vengeance and Ren's desperation to protect Wei.

The leader recovered, summoning a frost array that snaked toward Yi, its blue tendrils coiling like vipers. Qin Mo intercepted, the Frostflame Surge erupting in a wave of ice and fire that shattered the array, the backlash sending a chill through his limbs. Yi seized the opening, her threads wrapping around the woman's throat, pulling tight. "For my village," she whispered, her voice breaking as she twisted, the leader's neck snapping with a sickening crunch. The body fell, the sect's morale breaking as the survivors fled into the mist.

[Devour progress: 18%. Balance: Heat 32% / Cold 68%.]

Qin Mo lowered his blade, the shard drinking the essence, a rush that steadied his stance but left him weary. Yi stood over the leader's body, her threads retracting, her chest heaving as tears froze on her cheeks. "It's done," she murmured, her voice a mix of triumph and sorrow. Ren returned to Wei, checking his pulse, his face tight with worry. "He's still weak," he said, his hands trembling.

Lian approached, her bow lowered, her gaze softening. "You avenged them, Yi," she said quietly. "That's a start." Ling Shou lingered at the edge, his robes stained, his eyes distant. "The sect's pursuit won't end," he warned. "The Tax drives them—and the bells call louder now."

Qin Mo nodded, the pouch at his side growing heavier, the chime a relentless reminder. The ice walls pulsed, a new rune flaring, and the mist thickened, hinting at more threats. Yi wiped her face, her resolve hardening, while the team gathered, the air charged with the aftermath of her vengeance. The fight had been a release, but the towers' depths promised greater trials, each step drawing them closer to the bells' true purpose.

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