The borderlands were a land abandoned by order.
They stretched across the eastern edge of Iron River Sect's influence like a scar that never healed broken cities swallowed by vines, ancient roads cracked and half-belted by sand, and valleys where Qi behaved erratically, thick one moment and barren the next. Here, sect laws weakened. Decrees lost their sharpness. Survival depended not on backing, but on strength and cunning.
Li Chen entered this region at dusk.
By then, the pursuit had fully taken shape.
He felt it long before he saw anyone, a tightening in the air, a convergence of intent that pressed down upon him from multiple directions. Karma threads thickened, no longer thin whispers but heavy cords tugging at his soul. Each one carried purpose tracking, killing, claiming merit.
Iron River Sect had moved.
Not openly. Not recklessly.
They had done what all large sects did when faced with something abnormal.
They had hired others to die first.
Li Chen moved through the ruins of an old city as night fell, stepping over collapsed stone and shattered archways. The city had once been vast, now only fragments remained, walls gnawed hollow by time, streets reduced to trenches of dust and bone. The silence here was unnatural, even for ruins.
Perfect.
He climbed the remains of a watchtower and crouched near its broken crown, peering down into the streets below. His breathing was shallow, controlled. The Heaven's Mark pulsed faintly beneath his restraint, irritated by the density of intent surrounding him.
Six groups.
He counted them calmly.
Three loose cultivator teams, likely lured by bounty notices. One demonic cultivator whose aura reeked of blood and refinement through slaughter. And two disciplined.
Sect-trained.
Iron River.
Li Chen's fingers curled slowly.
They've learned, he thought. They won't rush me anymore.
A month ago, this many enemies would have meant death.
Now
Now it meant pain.
Li Chen closed his eyes and sank inward.
He did not circulate Qi aggressively. That would expose him immediately. Instead, he allowed the ember to burn low and turned his attention to the karma threads themselves.
They were everywhere.
Some connected to his pursuers directly. Others stretched beyond them to Iron River Sect elders, to jade slips bearing his name, to the Heaven's Mark branded upon his soul.
He did not try to sever all of them.
That would kill him.
Instead, he chose one.
A thin, aggressive thread that pulsed with greed and impatience the demonic cultivator.
Li Chen focused.
He remembered the obelisk. The sensation of tearing something that resisted. He aligned his will with that memory, sharpened it, and made a single, deliberate cut.
The backlash was immediate.
Pain ripped through his chest as if his heart had been stabbed from the inside. Li Chen nearly lost consciousness, blood spilling freely from his mouth.
But far below
The demonic cultivator screamed.
Li Chen opened his eyes just in time to see the man stagger into view between ruined buildings, clutching his head as black Qi erupted wildly around him. His cultivation destabilized instantly, techniques collapsing mid-formation.
Two loose cultivators nearby recoiled in horror.
"What did you do?" one shouted.
The demonic cultivator's body convulsed once, then burst, blood and Qi scattering violently as his severed karma rebounded upon him.
Silence followed.
Li Chen exhaled shakily.
One cut, he thought. And it almost cost me everything.
He wiped blood from his chin and moved.
The moment the demonic cultivator died, the net tightened.
Cultivators surged into motion, abandoning caution. Sensing formations activated. Spiritual beasts were released. Talismans burned, illuminating the ruins in cold light.
Li Chen descended from the tower and vanished into the city's lower arteries.
He did not fight directly.
He lured.
He led one group into an ancient plaza riddled with unstable Qi pockets. When they attacked together, their techniques interfered with one another, triggering a backlash that left two dead and one crippled.
He baited another team across a collapsed spirit bridge, then shattered the remaining supports with a focused Qi burst, sending them plunging into a ravine where distorted Qi tore their bodies apart.
Each engagement left him weaker.
Each victory carved deeper scars into his meridians.
By the time dawn approached, only the Iron River Sect teams remained.
They were careful now.
They advanced slowly through the ruins, formation tight, communication precise. One group blocked escape routes while the other advanced methodically, forcing Li Chen toward the city's heart.
Li Chen felt it clearly.
They were herding him.
He stopped running.
At the center of the ruined city stood an ancient altar, half-buried and cracked, its surface etched with symbols too worn to read. Qi pooled unnaturally around it, dense and oppressive.
Li Chen stepped onto the altar.
The Heaven's Mark flared violently.
Above the ruins, clouds churned.
Thunder rolled.
The Iron River disciples emerged from the streets, surrounding the plaza. Their leader a man with sharp eyes and a calm expression—studied Li Chen carefully.
"So you chose to stop," the man said. "Wise. There is nowhere left to run."
Li Chen met his gaze.
"I wasn't running," he said quietly. "I was thinning the herd."
The disciples attacked together.
Blades of Qi, binding talismans, suppressive formations everything converged on Li Chen at once.
Li Chen screamed.
Not in fear.
In defiance.
He reached inward and cut not one thread, but many.
The world tore.
The altar beneath him shattered as ancient Qi surged upward, resonating with the obelisk's lingering imprint within him. Karma threads snapped violently, recoiling into Heaven itself.
Blood poured from Li Chen's eyes, ears, and mouth as his body began to fail.
But the Iron River disciples fared worse.
Their formation collapsed instantly. Two were crushed by rebounding Qi. Another was flung backward, bones pulverized. The leader barely managed to erect a defensive barrier before being slammed into the ground.
Li Chen collapsed to his knees.
His vision faded.
Yet as darkness crept in, he felt something shift.
Not a breakthrough.
Not advancement.
But alignment.
The Dao of Severance took another step forward.
High above, Heaven thundered in fury.
Lightning split the sky.
And Li Chen laughed weakly, bloodied and broken, standing alone amid ruins and corpses.
The net had closed.
And he had torn it apart.