The words on the light screen were still scrolling.
[Abnormal Carrier Handling Clauses]
[…If the carrier repeatedly interferes with the Recovery process, it may be deemed a "rebellious factor" toward the World Contingency and must be disposed of as soon as possible to avoid contaminating the structure.]
[Recommended methods of disposal:]
[1. Publicly read out its crimes at a public trial to soothe mortal emotions.]
[2. Change its roster status from "abnormal" to "in Recovery," and perform the "carrier recovery ritual" upon it.]
The instant this segment surfaced, all the Chains in the hall tightened at once.
The chief recorder shut his stone slab.
"That's enough," he said coldly. "You have all seen—this man has been written by the world as the 'carrier' since childhood, yet everything he has done runs counter to the Recovery Contingency."
"He is not the world's hope. He is a dangerous variable."
"The world must return to order."
"The Key—must be recovered."
As that last sentence fell, the black chain on the dome lit up one notch.
Qi Luo's chest clenched.
The Key-Sigil felt as if an icy hand had seized and yanked it tight.
Around him, the covenant stones at the edge of the circle rearranged themselves. Runes flipped over one by one, forming new lines of text:
[Carrier Recovery Ritual · Preparation]
[Step One: Lock the carrier's name.]
[Step Two: Fully synchronize the carrier's name with the Recovery main chain.]
[Step Three: Revoke all covenant links between the carrier and the mortal realm.]
"Lock carrier name—Qi Luo." The chief recorder pronounced the words slowly.
His voice carried through the Chains, all across the city.
In the little Rust Street church, someone clapped both hands over their mouth, unable to make a sound.
In a mid-tier workshop pavilion, a few craftsmen cursed at the same time—hands shaking even as they swore.
Up in a noble tower, some spectators had already begun comforting themselves: "This is the world's choice… this is a necessary sacrifice…"
The heat in Qi Luo's chest rapidly turned into dull, grinding pain.
He could feel his name being shoved on the Chains—from "Qi Luo (roster abnormal)" into a new status:
[Qi Luo (carrier · pending recovery).]
The Hunter badge on his chest burned hot.
The co-hunter authority chain flickered urgently:
[Warning: carrier recovery process initiated.]
[Co-hunter may initiate one clause cross-check request.]
Qi Luo almost reflexively moved to press the badge.
Just then, the lower end of the black chain hanging from the dome snapped taut—like a giant serpent coiling around his chest.
The world's self-check module spat out cold text:
[Step One: Lock carrier name—completed.]
[Step Two: Fully synchronize carrier name with Recovery main chain—executing.]
A ring of black mist rose from the center of the circle, crawling upward from his feet—over his knees, up to his chest.
All sorts of words drifted faintly in the mist:
[Initial Version]
[Noise removal]
[Structure simplification]
"You're really going to press it now?" Qi Luo looked up, his voice muffled under the weight of the black fog.
The elder phantom stared at him, eyes like ice. "Exposing the Plan only accelerated what could not be avoided."
"Mortals now know of the Recovery Contingency," the chief recorder added. "Their resistance index will only rise."
"In that case, before the structure collapses entirely—"
"—we recover immediately."
It was as if the black chain above had received permission. The links lit up one by one. The portion hanging down fully solidified, like a black iron spike driven straight from the dome toward Qi Luo's chest.
His Key-Sigil flared white-hot. The pain almost stole his breath.
He could feel a flood of clause-information surging along that chain and pouring into him—
The world was trying to stuff the beginning of the Recovery process entirely into his name.
At the edge of the circle, the runes blazed so bright they hurt the eyes.
[Revoking carrier's covenant links with the mortal realm: executing.]
He saw lines begin to be pulled from him—
The "little covenants" with Rust Street kids, the debt amendment he'd made with the church priest, the appended "healthy work hours" line for the workshop craftsmen…
The mist tried to drag all those lines away.
Qi Luo clenched his fists and held onto a few of them by sheer will, jaw aching from how hard he bit down.
"You can erase me if you want," he rasped. "But don't think you can wipe out every word we've written."
The edge of the Hunter badge dug into his skin, the sting snapping his mind a little clearer.
And then—
Some chain flared violently in his vision.
Not the black chain on the dome, but another one—an old chain rising up from the depths beneath the city.
Rough. Rusted. Its edges were full of chiseled-off crests, replaced by broken fragments of divine chain marks.
[Fallen Knights' Atonement Clause Chain.]
That chain had always hung quietly in the deep layers of the World Base-Covenant.
Qi Luo had glanced at it once—
Saw the extra years tacked onto their atonement after that night of breach, saw the "buffer-layer duties" written beside them.
Now, that chain suddenly shuddered violently.
[Detected: carrier recovery process initiated.]
[Calling: Fallen Knights' buffer-layer clauses.]
[World-level contingency execution flow:]
[First wave of structural impact shall be borne by the buffer layer, to reduce direct damage to the city from the carrier's recovery.]
The moment these lines appeared, every cup in a dim Rust Street tavern trembled.
Cen Duo sat in a corner. His cup held nothing more dangerous than black tea.
Cold text surfaced along the rim:
[Atonement years accumulated: ×× years.]
[Buffer duty: when the carrier recovery process initiates, you must serve as first-wave buffer layer to absorb structural impact.]
[Current status: executing.]
The tea in his cup suddenly boiled—no flame, yet white steam roared upward.
Cen Duo glanced at it and smiled.
The smile of a man who had always known it would come to this.
"Here we go," he said.
The other Fallen Knights nearby also looked down at their cups as text rose from within.
[Buffer duty: executing.]
The broken-chain marks on their shoulders lit up link by link, like a fire kindling from deep in their breastbones and racing up through the etched covenant stripes.
"Old Cen," someone said under their breath. "Is it time?"
Cen Duo didn't answer. He slowly stood, raised the cup of boiling black tea to eye level.
"When we signed this clause back then," he said hoarsely, "what we had in mind was—if the world ever really tries to roll back, we'd step in front and take the hit."
"Buy him a gap."
"Now they're slamming it when he's got no time to prepare at all."
"Do we still step up?"
The knights glanced at one another.
Someone let out a crooked grin. "You really need to ask?"
"We lot—" another muttered, swearing, "we're only still alive because we do this kind of crap."
A third bared his teeth. "At least this time we're not taking the hit for gods. We're taking it for a person."
Cen Duo lowered his head and slowly wrote a single character in the air.
[Breach.]
The stroke landed. The atonement chain shuddered.
[Detected: Fallen Knights' atonement clauses have undergone active breach.]
[Breach target: extended atonement years, obedient fulfillment of buffer duties.]
[Breach consequence: atonement years fully burned; self-annihilation.]
The World Base-Covenant added a cold supplement.
Cen Duo smiled wider, laughter digging into the old scar across his face.
"Debt that should've been burned off long ago."
He looked up and hurled a vicious curse toward some invisible point above. "—We can't settle what you owe the world. But what you owe him, we'll pay ourselves."
Then he tipped back the cup and downed the tea that had boiled into white steam.
The liquid slid down his throat with no scalding heat—only a hollow burn, starting inside and moving out.
The other Fallen Knights in the tavern moved almost in unison.
Each of them drank down the "atone ment years" in their own cups.
A heartbeat later—
A ring of visible fire flared above Rust Street.
Not ordinary fire, but a ring of "chain-flame" wrapped around the city's base.
In every tongue of fire, there was a segment of name, a line of clauses; numbers raced from high to low, dropping to zero:
[Cen Duo · atonement years: ×× → 0]
[So-and-so · atonement years: ×× → 0]
[…]
The flames roared up along the Fallen Knights' main chain.
The self-check module screamed an alarm:
[Warning: Fallen Knights' atonement clauses breached in collective action!]
[Atonement years prematurely burned; buffer-duty structure forcibly rewritten.]
[Breach level: maximum.]
[Immediate handling required.]
In the hall, Qi Luo felt the tug in his chest jolt at almost the same moment.
The black chain on the dome had just completed the last link of Step Two—
[Step Two: fully synchronize carrier name with Recovery main chain—99%.]
The number was about to tick over to "100%."
Right then, a shockwave of covenant fire exploded upward from the city's foundations.
It was as if all of Rust Street had ignited at once, turned in the Chain-world into a colossal fireball that slammed into one side of the black chain.
Something deep above boomed.
The self-check module's text turned blinding red:
[Major breach event: Fallen Knights collectively and prematurely terminate atonement clauses.]
[Impact: buffer layer structure broken; Recovery Contingency cannot proceed along original path.]
[Handling priority: elevated to maximum; carrier recovery process temporarily suspended; switching to breach-handling mode.]
[Step Two: fully synchronize carrier name with Recovery main chain—paused.]
The number froze at "99%."
The black chain dug into Qi Luo's chest, squeezing the breath from him—yet it stopped, held back from that final inch.
The runes at the edge of the circle blurred.
From somewhere beyond the array, a streak of fire punched through the wall.
Not physical fire, but covenant fire—burning clauses, scorching names.
Qi Luo barely had time to look up before he saw several familiar figures walking toward the hall through the flames.
They wore armor long since frayed and patched, every plate etched edge to edge with atonement clauses.
All those words were burning now, unraveling into wisps of spirit flame that seeped through the seams of their armor.
Cen Duo walked at the front.
With each step, a ring of chain-flame spread from under his boots, punching misaligned gaps into the space between the circle and the World Base-Covenant.
"Old Cen…" Qi Luo's throat tightened.
Cen Duo lifted his head and looked toward him at the center of the array.
Fire danced in the scar across his face, turning it into a split seam. Inside the crack, there was no blood—only a fine row of tiny characters:
[Atonement years: 0]
"You brat," Cen Duo bared his teeth, his grin bone-white in the fire. "What was the first lesson we taught you?"
Qi Luo heard his own voice shaking. "Don't sign anything blindly."
"Wrong." Cen Duo laughed. "It was—if you sign, you own it."
He raised his hand.
The skin was already glowing from the chain-flame; between the finger bones, lines of script could be seen peeling outward.
He wrote a single character in the air.
[Breach.]
As the word fell, the atonement clause chain on his body detonated.
All the text shackled to his life—"extended years," "buffer duty," "liable to recall at any time"—tore free from the armor one by one, turned into flame, and crashed upward into the black chain.
The other Fallen Knights raised their hands at the same time, tracing the same character over their own hearts.
[Breach.]
In taverns, at alley mouths, under a disused clocktower—everyone who had stood in the abyss pipes that night and witnessed the Three-Chime Night Bell now wrote that character in different places, with different gestures.
Their names all blazed on the roster at once.
[Cen Duo: atonement clauses—breached.]
[××: atonement clauses—breached.]
The price of breach came due instantly.
Their remaining years began falling at a rate the naked eye could track—down to zero, then into the negatives—
But before the numbers could plunge past zero, they hurled all that long-hoarded "debt-fire" in a single direction—
Toward the gap between the black chain and Qi Luo's chest.
The world was forced to pause the Recovery Program and divert enormous resources to handle the mass breach.
[Breach-handling flow initiated.]
[Step One: freeze current Recovery process progress.]
[Step Two: calculate breach losses and patch structural gaps.]
[Temporary result: carrier recovery process suspended.]
The force trying to yank Qi Luo away suddenly slackened.
The black mist still wrapped around him, but as if something had slugged it hard from the side, the whole cloud lurched off-center.
Cen Duo strode into the circle through the covenant fire.
"You altered our buffer clauses," he said as he walked, talking right to Qi Luo. "Pushed us one ring back from 'die in the first wave.'"
"You thought that way we might dodge it."
Fire climbed behind his eyes.
"But some debts can't be shoved back forever."
"We decide ourselves—" he tapped his chest, "when to burn them out."
Qi Luo's throat locked. "I don't need you to—"
He didn't finish. Cen Duo had already stepped into the array.
Normally, the circle forbade anyone but the accused from entering the center.
Now, the atonement fire around the Fallen Knights burned crack after crack through that prohibition.
"What the world owes you, we can't repay," Cen Duo said, smiling through the flames. "All we can do is pay a little of what we owe you."
"That night—if we'd written the third character, you wouldn't be here."
"Now—let's finish that half-written word."
He threw his hand up and grabbed the small chain-link extending from the black chain overhead.
That link represented the final point of overlap in the "carrier recovery process."
His big hand closed around it and yanked it hard to the side.
The chain squealed like tortured metal.
Pain ripped through Qi Luo's chest as the Key-Sigil was tugged, but at the same time, the point where the black chain overlapped with him was forcibly dragged an inch away.
That inch…
Was outside the "center."
Cen Duo looked back over his shoulder, grinning at Qi Luo through the fire.
"Watch closely."
"This is breach."
"Not your exclusive trick."
The Fallen Knights behind him surged forward together.
They weren't charging at Qi Luo—they were charging the black chain.
Some smashed it with burning fists, some slammed already-cracked swords against it, some simply hurled their whole bodies into it.
With every impact, a section of the chain flared red-hot.
Those were the links that had borne their atonement clauses—links the world had planned to use as cushions for the Recovery impact, now being hammered by them into red-hot spikes nailed into the black chain.
[Buffer-layer structure being rewritten…]
[Detected: buffer layer is converting part of the impact into "process delay."]
[Recovery program suspension time: undetermined.]
The self-check module's text flashed over and over, as if even it had never run this path before.
"They're turning themselves into 'program errors,'" Qi Luo realized abruptly.
—Normal buffering meant absorbing impact.
—What the Fallen Knights were doing was using a collective breach to create a world-level "error."
The bigger the error, the more the world was forced to stop and handle it.
The time spent handling the error—
Was time he could move.
The black chain skewed under the strain. The gravity at the center of the circle shifted.
The runes under Qi Luo's feet suddenly slid in one direction.
A pair of hands slammed into his back.
Not Cen Duo's—another Fallen Knight, the middle-aged man who always joked about finding him "proper work."
His armor was burnt through. Inside, atonement text was carved in messy layers.
His hands were blisteringly hot.
Qi Luo was shoved off-balance and out of the center, skidding through covenant fire and black mist toward the edge of the array.
"Get out!" the man roared at him. "You're not the one who stands at the center of Recovery!"
"You're the one who stands on the platform and curses the world—finish your damn speech!"
Qi Luo stumbled, the chains at his chest not fully severed yet—only a few threads clung on.
Cen Duo seized that last length and pressed it hard against his own breastplate.
Some of the Key-Sigil's burn transferred over.
The black chain left a deep imprint across Cen Duo's chest.
It wasn't a Key-Sigil, but the shape was similar to the spiral on Qi Luo's breast—broken and incomplete.
"You want to press that button?" Cen Duo tipped his head back, glaring at the black chain on the dome. "—Then you press through our layer first."
"See if you can force it down."
As his words fell, the covenant fire roared higher.
In the real Rust Street tavern, the room flared brilliantly bright, then plunged into darkness.
Every shadow that had been sitting there a second ago was gone—only scorch marks on the walls showed where the flames had licked.
The World Base-Covenant wrote a cold line:
[Fallen Knights' atonement clauses: collective breach → atonement years reset to zero → subjects annihilated.]
[Breach impact: Recovery buffer-layer structure abnormal; recalculation required.]
[Carrier recovery process: suspended, pending re-sequencing.]
Qi Luo was flung from the border between flame and fog.
His back hit the stone floor of the hall, shock blasting his vision white. A high ring filled his ears; for a moment he heard nothing at all.
He only saw—
Within the black chain overhead, the names of the Fallen Knights going out one by one.
In the instant before they went dark, each name seemed to be shoved hard in some direction.
He couldn't see where—only that at that corner of the world's structure, something caved a little, then held under the collapse.
Fire raged at the center of the circle.
Cen Duo and his comrades stood in the heart of it, their backs blurring in the blaze, the broken-chain marks on their armor burning into ring after ring of fractured light.
At the very end, Qi Luo saw Cen Duo lift his head and, it seemed, give a little wave his way.
The gesture didn't look like farewell. It looked like his old classroom habit:
—"Watch carefully."
"This is what breach really is."
The next second, the fire blew apart.
The center of the array was punched hollow by covenant flame; the black mist was ripped open right down the middle.
The gap wasn't big, but it was enough for one person.
The shockwave flung Qi Luo straight toward the tear.
The Hunter badge was plastered to his chest, hot enough to knock him out.
The black chain on the dome shook like mad.
The self-check module was still scrawling furiously:
[Handling major breach…]
[Carrier recovery suspended…]
[Recovery process re-sequencing estimated time: ——] (blank)
Blank.
—That was the time their breach had bought.
In the blaze, Qi Luo finally tore free of the center of the chains.
At the edge of his sight, the world's master covenant—that vast "page" whose borders could not be seen—split slightly along its bottom.
The split looked like an empty line waiting for text.
At the edge of that gap, the Fallen Knights' names burned a new symbol into the parchment—
A broken divine chain, hammered hard into the corner of the master covenant.
It was the last stroke they wrote on the world:
—We refuse.
—Even if it costs our lives, we'll breach this damned Old Covenant once.