The wind at the bottom of the Abyssal Clocktower slowly changed.
Before, it had been nothing but cold, crawling up from the abyss like an invisible hand squeezing a throat.
Now there was something else mixed into that cold—like the scent when ink is first spread across a page.
On the stone wall, the few newly written lines of the master covenant's supplemental clauses still gleamed, not yet fully dry.
[Errors shall not be reset to zero.]
[Old wounds must be remembered.]
[The temporary administrator's name may be deleted when necessary.]
[All named beings may participate in the New Covenant Council.]
Qi Luo leaned against the wall, his breathing finally evening out.
The line "this name may be deleted at any time" on the inside of his sternum felt like an iron plate nailed into his bones, faintly digging at him with every breath.
"It accepted 'trial run'." Ruan Ji looked up at the hazy halo above, speaking low. "The New Covenant Council spirit-chain… really is hanging up there."
"Don't praise it," Qi Luo said. "It's just curious."
"Curious about what?"
"Curious whether it can keep the world from falling apart without leaning on rollback."
He straightened with effort and walked back to the rail.
Below the abyss was still pure black, nothing visible.
But in the chain-world, he could see another familiar shadow drifting slowly through that darkness.
Shadow, he called inwardly.
A patch of unobtrusive darkness on the ground stirred, as if an eye had opened deep in the abyss.
"Finished writing?"
The voice came from wall-cracks, from stone grain, from links in chains, all at once.
"The draft," Qi Luo said. "The world's put it into trial operation."
"Aren't you the one who hates drafts the most?" the Shadow drawled. "Didn't you say 'trial clauses' are just an excuse to stall?"
"Complaining is one thing," Qi Luo said. "Getting it on paper is better than letting it spin in our mouths."
He paused.
"Next," he said, "I'm going to make sure that 'council' written on that page isn't just a pretty ring of light."
"I'm going to make it——"
"——actually have people."
The Shadow went quiet for a beat.
The erroneous clauses on the wall shivered faintly with that one word—people.
"How are you going to call them?" it asked.
"Stand at the bottom of the Clocktower and shout into the abyss?"
"Aren't you my loudspeaker?" Qi Luo shot back.
"Then you'll be paying a new cost," the Shadow said.
"Broadcasts are expensive."
"On my bones again?" Qi Luo let out a short laugh. "Forget it. You already treat me like a ledger."
He stretched his hand out over the abyss, palm down.
The Key-Sigil under his sternum warmed—not a burning this time, but a spreading heat, like ink igniting before being poured across a page.
I'm issuing a summons, Qi Luo told the world.
Not to any one god. Not to any one temple.
To the sheet of "paper" covering all of Skycast City.
[Operation request: using the abyssal interface as the base-point, broadcast a full-realm summons along the New Covenant Council spirit-chain.]
[Target: all names oppressed by the Old Covenant——including mortals, deities, races, and other named existences.]
The self-check module instantly flashed an alert:
[Warning: wide-scale structural broadcast will increase noise index.]
Then, at the bottom, a small line blinked into view—the Shadow's footnote again:
[Note: a council that is not properly convened will have low acceptance of its clauses, causing more violations later.]
The world hesitated, caught between "afraid of noise now" and "afraid of worse noise later."
[Temporary judgment: one-time broadcast permitted; impact to be evaluated afterward.]
Qi Luo felt the ground beneath him give another subtle shiver.
The whole Clocktower was like a needle stuck in the paper, lifted upward by a fraction of an inch.
"Begin," the Shadow said.
This time its voice rang not only in Qi Luo's mind, but at the edge of the abyss, inside Rust Street's drainpipes, and in some dust-choked runic machinery deep within the city, all giving off a faint resonance.
The Key-Sigil's heat crawled along his blood to the hunter badge, then jumped up onto that newborn council spirit-chain.
Above the world, the "sky" of Skycast City dimmed for an instant.
Not because the clouds darkened, but because the priority of the chains' light was rearranged——
The chains used for monitoring and for recovery had their priority briefly lowered, while a new channel was pulled to the top.
[New Covenant Council · First Summoning Broadcast: activated.]
No sound came from bells or horns, yet on every chain related to covenants, a line of text dropped into place.
Rust Street, in a shabby little church.
An old priest was leading a clutch of children in their prayers. "…may the gods have mercy…"
The prayer-stone in front of him warmed faintly, and an unfamiliar line of text surfaced on its face:
[The New Covenant Council issues a summons:]
[All names once oppressed by the Old Covenant may respond.]
[You may appear in person or appoint a representative to travel to the Abyssal Clocktower and join in clause discussions.]
The priest froze, thinking someone was playing a trick on him.
Then he heard a soft note ring in the air above Rust Street—
not the Night Bell, but a tap of a gavel, struck on a ring of seats still mostly empty.
Mid-tier workshop district.
A craftsman arguing with his boss over work-hour clauses suddenly felt his head grow hot.
On the spirit-chain that bound him and his boss in a "Workshop Employment Covenant," a system notice popped up:
[Detected: this covenant has been used to evade health and rest clauses.]
[The New Covenant Council permits objections to such clauses.]
[Would you be willing to serve as a mortal-side representative and travel to the Abyssal Clocktower?]
The craftsman stared for a full three seconds.
"Me?" he muttered, looking up at the sky.
The chains that usually ignored him were, for the first time, looking back.
Upper-tier noble tower.
In a lavish prayer room, a young noble knelt before a chief god's statue, reciting prayers drilled into him years ago.
His mind, however, was full of what had exploded out of the council hall today——
the Recovery Plan, test-run cities, family lineages treated as parameters.
Behind the statue, the god-chain flickered, and a list of options unfurled before his eyes:
[New Covenant Council seat prompt:]
[Noble representatives may also participate.]
[You may choose to:]
[——Defend the existing noble clauses;]
[——Speak on behalf of lower-class mortal rights;]
[——Remain silent, which will be counted as abstention.]
"Now you're giving me options?" The young noble let out a dry laugh.
He suddenly remembered how those High Gods' Council elites always said "the masses are unfit to take part in decision-making," and yet, right now, the world itself was asking him what he chose.
High above, in the temple towers.
In a sealed chamber of the High Gods' Council, several high deities' projections raised their heads at once.
Deep in their god-chains, the same cold system prompt chimed:
[New Covenant Council spirit-chain has been activated.]
[As high-load nodes of the world, you are obligated to attend.]
[Absence will be recorded as "no responsibility for opinions regarding future clauses".]
"'No responsibility'?" one divine projection scoffed. "What a clever turn of phrase."
Another stared at the words "obligated to attend," something dangerous flickering in its eyes.
"Who wrote this on the world's paper?"
"The Key," one god said coldly. "The abyss Key."
"He wrote a council at our feet," a third projection said, "and expects us to sit in it."
"Let him live long enough to walk out of the Clocktower first."
…
The summons didn't stop at the city walls.
Beyond Skycast City, scattered islands and broken bridges floated above the abyssal mist-sea—remnants of races from an older age.
On a small island forever washed in holy light, a thin winged youth stood at a cliff-edge, practicing broken-wing flight.
The feathers on his wings bore the "Flight Redemption Clauses": every fall meant paying another year of "penance" to the main temple.
Suddenly, the markings along his wings heated, and a line he'd never seen shimmered along the tips of his feathers:
[Detected: winged race Flight Redemption Clauses have long contained unjust definitions.]
[The New Covenant Council permits non-city races to respond "by distant name".]
[Would you like to submit a representative name for the winged race?]
He gaped at his own feathers, struck dumb.
Elsewhere, on the far side of the abyssal mist-sea, an old-era railway made of metal and runes stretched into the dark.
A rune-train that should have been scrapped long ago suddenly lit its lamps.
Runes jittered on the carriage walls, forming a line:
[Representatives of the clocksmith clans and runic machinery may also be invited.]
[Clauses that once dismantled you will be discussed in the New Covenant for repeal or retention.]
Deep in the train, a mechanical humanoid that had lost its master long ago slowly raised its head.
On its chest, the half-torn nameplate's remaining three characters flickered.
[——铸 城 残]
It didn't know what a "council" was.
It only knew that a voice was asking it:
"Do you want to come and talk about whether anyone ever asked your consent before taking you apart?"
…
The summons spread along the council spirit-chain and up through the abyssal interface.
Qi Luo could see it——in the chain-world, god-chains that had hung straight down started to bend at certain nodes, arching toward that newborn ring.
Points of light began to glow along the rim:
Some mortal, some minor god, some from other races, some blurred remnants barely clinging to the notion of a name.
They might still be hesitating about coming in person,
but the world had already shoved an invitation into their hands.
"You really did wake the whole city up," the Shadow drawled from the cracks in the stone.
"And a bit farther than the city."
"From now on when people curse you—'Qi Luo opens his mouth and the whole world can't get any peace'——"
"Will you own it?"
Qi Luo drew in a breath.
"I'll take it," he said.
"At least that proves… they heard."
The Key-Sigil in his chest was unusually calm.
It was the "New Covenant cost node" whose numbers were quietly ticking upward.
[New Covenant cost accrual: 5...6...]
Every new responding node added to the cost.
The world was booking all this "noise" under Qi Luo's name, planning to wipe it out someday by "deleting the Key."
Qi Luo understood it perfectly.
"Is that not enough yet?" Ruan Ji demanded. "Keep this up and you're going to get flagged as 'overloaded structure' right now."
Qi Luo looked up.
"Just one last line," he said.
"'Last' again," Ruan Ji muttered through her teeth.
Qi Luo stared at the still half-empty halo, lowering his voice. "World."
[Request to append broadcast addendum:]
[Note: the opening of seats in the New Covenant Council does not equal the automatic abolishment of the Old Covenant.]
[Until the New Covenant is decided, all current clauses remain in operation.]
[However, the names of those who attend will be recorded as "names that participated in shaping future rules," and shall have the right to be remembered as such.]
The self-check module assessed at speed:
[This addendum helps reduce immediate chaos and prevents groups from assuming the Old Covenant has instantly lost effect.]
[Recommendation: accept.]
[Addendum appended to broadcast.]
Only then did Qi Luo slowly let out a breath.
"Now it's enough," he said.
"I have to tell them—coming doesn't mean you can topple everything on the spot."
"But at least——"
"their names will go under 'participated'."
In Rust Street's little church, the old priest read the addendum and suddenly laughed.
"You hear that?" he told the wide-eyed children.
"Even people like us, who can't recite the prayer-words right, can get our names written under 'helped shape future rules'."
"For the first time, there's a line for us in the covenants."
The children didn't fully understand, but instinct told them something important lay in those words.
In the mid-tier workshop, the craftsman looked up and saw the halo in the sky shining brighter than before.
"Participate," he mouthed.
"Fine."
"Then I'll 'participate' once."
He ripped down the work-hour covenant his boss had scribbled all over and shoved it against his chest, pressing hard—
building some new link between his name and that contract.
"In the name of craftsman So-and-So," he murmured, "I respond to the New Covenant Council."
The employment chain between him and his boss bucked sharply.
The self-check module noted:
[New Covenant Council seats: mortal node +1.]
In the noble tower, the young noble knelt for a long time.
In the end, he selected the second option——"speak on behalf of lower-class mortal rights."
His finger hovered over it, then came down hard.
"My father is going to kill me," he muttered.
The god-chain behind the statue quivered.
The world replied in cool text:
[This name has been recorded as "noble-seat representative of mortal interests".]
[Internal family conflict is outside the scope of this round of clause discussions.]
The young noble huffed a laugh. "Fair enough."
In the temple high tower, the High Gods' projections watched it all from their sealed room, expressions cold.
In their view, the new spirit-chain was like a jagged scar growing out of nowhere——
pasted over the old divine structure, prying open a gap in the decision-making height they had monopolized.
"This is an attempt to sideline us," one god murmured.
"'All named beings may participate'," another read. "He didn't even write the word 'divinity' in there."
"He didn't," a third said coolly. "The world did."
Under their feet, the self-check module's prompt was all business:
[As high-load nodes, your absence will be marked as "abstained from opinion".]
[Those who abstain may not later plead 'ignorance' or 'non-participation' to escape the binding force of future clauses.]
"What tone is that?" a god chuckled in disbelief. "It's treating us like… ordinary signatories."
"The Key wrote a council into the master covenant," one god said, voice dark. "The world agreed to a trial run."
"We can supervise," another said coldly.
"We can attend."
"We can prove, on the council floor, that this so-called 'New Covenant' is just a dangerous noise rally."
"We can, while we're at it——"
His finger traced a line, and text flashed into their shared view:
[Proposal: dispatch a judgment legion to garrison the surroundings of the Abyssal Clocktower under the name of 'security oversight'.]
[Justification: prevent the carrier from exploiting the summons to incite mortal riots and damage city structure.]
The self-check module evaluated:
[Security oversight contributes to local structural stability.]
[Excessive force may increase noise.]
[Conclusion: legion deployment permitted, on condition that within the range of the council spirit-chain, Name-Erasure clauses may not be executed at will.]
[Violators will be recorded as "those who applied improper suppression during the New Covenant Council".]
The divine projections exchanged looks.
"Even we're getting footnotes now," one god sneered.
"No matter," said the proposer.
"We'll just 'supervise'."
"As for what happens outside the range of that spirit-chain——"
"That's none of its business."
——
Above the Abyssal Clocktower, the air suddenly tightened.
Qi Luo looked up and saw several familiar structures forming beyond the new halo——
Thicker than normal god-chains, colder than hunter chains, wrapped in neat rows of clauses.
[High Gods' Legion chain · First Sequence.]
[Destination: Abyssal Clocktower.]
[Mission: supervise the safety of the New Covenant Council, prevent the carrier from stirring up unrest.]
"They're coming," Ruan Ji said, squinting up.
She saw several points of light racing closer through the sky—not stars, but legions.
From the temple's side wings, ranks of light-armored envoys, covenant warriors, and war-banners woven entirely from clauses were sliding down along the legion chains toward the city's edge—their heading: the Abyssal Clocktower.
"They're scared," Qi Luo said.
"Scared the council will end up on our terms."
"So they're coming to 'watch,' flex their muscle, and pick a moment to shove you back into the recovery array," Ruan Ji said.
"Let them come," Qi Luo replied, eyes on the halo. "I saved them seats too."
"If they only send legions and no actual representatives——"
"then every time they use the Old Covenant to smash someone, we can write in the master covenant——'you abandoned your seats that year.'"
The Shadow's laughter rustled faintly in the stone.
"You're very good at keeping books," it said.
"Don't forget—you are the ledger."
Qi Luo gave a low laugh.
There was exhaustion in it, and a resolve that was about to be wrenched free.
"I know," he said.
"From the moment I refused rollback, I gave up on being a clean book."
"So what do you plan to be?" Ruan Ji asked.
Qi Luo tipped his head back, gazing at the slowly brightening spirit-chain.
Fresh lights still hesitated in the distance; others were already drifting toward the Abyssal Clocktower.
"I plan to be——"
"——a master covenant draft with errors circled on every single page."
"When the New Covenant Council is full," he said softly, "we'll read them out, one by one."
"Until the world understands."
High above the tower, the tongue of the Night Bell trembled.
This time, it didn't boom like a hammer.
It only sounded once, very far away——
like a belated answer to that earlier "the council is in session."
The new spirit-chain structure slowly stabilized over the tower.
The High Gods' legions advanced from afar like a cluster of spearheads, trying to drive themselves into the ring of still-empty seats.
From Rust Street, from the workshop belt, from noble towers, from outer islands and the far side of the abyss, other lights—weak or strong—were also converging on the same point.
For the first time, the sky over Skycast City showed such a scene:
—the black tower of the old council still standing,
—the glowing ring of the new council slowly turning above it,
—the High Gods' legion chains wrapping around like a cold iron band,
—and from below, threads of prayer and alien chains climbing upward one by one.
On the stone steps of the Abyssal Clocktower, the wind changed direction.
No longer blowing up solely from the abyss, but streaming in from all directions of the city, converging on the heart of the tower.
It carried the breath of all races and all gods.
It carried names that had been crushed too long under the Old Covenant, now being clearly, unmistakably called to one place for the first time:
——Come.
——Come take your seat.
——Come and speak about the line where they wrote you wrong.