The oppressive air of the underground chamber clung to them long after they resurfaced. Above, the sky had turned a deep crimson, twilight creeping far too early.
"They'll come soon," Lian Hua said, her voice low.
Wang Lin nodded. The pulse of the Abduction Path still echoed within him like a second heartbeat. Whatever had been awakened in that statue… it wasn't done.
Jin Tao kicked aside a fallen branch. "We should move. There's an old outpost north of here — Black Fang Hall. If the Temple sends a Seeker, they'll pass through it first."
Wang Lin's gaze sharpened. "Then we make our stand there."
Lian Hua glanced at him. "You want to confront them?"
"No. I want to send a message." He looked up at the cloud-stained sky. "They called me a thief. Let's show them what I've really stolen."
---
By nightfall, they reached the jagged cliffs near Hollow Serpent Pass. There, nestled between stone fangs and cloaked by enchantments, loomed Black Fang Hall—once a minor fortress of the Temple, now dormant.
It didn't stay that way for long.
As Wang Lin drew near, the sigil on his palm—bestowed by the Abduction Path—flared to life. The air thickened. The moon dimmed. Then, a sound like bone grinding on bone.
The seal cracked open.
And from the shadows emerged a figure robed in dusk-black cloth, a silver veil masking his face, crimson glyphs burning along his arms. His eyes were sunken, as if sleep had never known him.
Lian Hua gasped. "A Pale Judge…"
The figure floated above the ground, his voice low and suffocating.
> "Wang Lin… thief of forbidden paths… echo of a sin unpunished…"
Jin Tao stepped forward, blade gleaming. "Is it just me, or does every Temple dog talk like they're reciting a funeral poem?"
The Pale Judge raised a hand.
A wave of spiritual force erupted outward, slamming into them like a crashing tide. Jin Tao was hurled backward, Lian Hua fell to a knee, coughing blood.
But Wang Lin stood still.
Eyes glowing.
The Abduction Path writhed, eager — hungry.
"You want judgment?" Wang Lin growled. "Then come take it."
He vanished.
Reappeared behind the Pale Judge, palm crashing forward—Abduction Palm: Void Rend.
The Judge blocked it with one arm, but his ward shattered. Shock rippled through him.
"Your body… it is no longer mortal."
Wang Lin's voice was quiet, like the eye of a storm. "It was never yours to decide."
The battle ignited.
Lian Hua, bleeding but determined, flung an ice-laced talisman that exploded in a burst of frost. Jin Tao, rejoining the fray with a grin, slashed at the Judge's ankles to limit his movement.
But it was Wang Lin who dominated the storm.
Each move absorbed and returned. The Pale Judge's Soul Chain Bindings became Wang Lin's weapon seconds later. Every technique cast was reflected, remade—abducted.
And with each breath, the statue's voice from earlier echoed in his mind.
> "Abduction is not theft. It is reclamation."
Finally, with one last strike—a fusion of ten stolen techniques—Wang Lin drove his palm into the Pale Judge's chest.
The silver veil burned away.
And underneath…
There was no face.
Only ash and ancient hatred.
The Judge disintegrated.
---
When silence returned, the three stood amidst ruin.
Jin Tao exhaled. "Well… if that was their welcome party, I hate to see what the main force looks like."
Lian Hua didn't speak. Her eyes were on Wang Lin.
He stood quietly, hands at his sides. But his presence… had changed.
He looked older. Not in age, but in weight. As if each battle carved away some part of the boy he once was.
He turned slowly.
"The Temple will send more," he said.
"And we'll keep standing," Lian Hua replied.
Jin Tao snorted. "We? You mean me too? You people are trouble."
But he smiled.
As the moon broke free from the clouds above, silver light bathed the bloodstained stones.
And in that moment, three souls forged a bond in ash and fire — a vow to burn the chains that bound the world.