The Shade’s Cold Grasp

North of Ye Clan's valley, a frost-rimed cave yawned beneath jagged cliffs, its mouth veiled by pines and mist, qi thick with cold malice. Ice clung to stone, unnatural under autumn's warmth, pulsing with the jade box's open arrays—frost spilling free, chanting Yan Huo, rise. Lin Feng stood at the cave's edge, frail frame coiled, muddy-brown eyes piercing the dark where Heaven's Pulse Sense caught silver silk—qi frost-cold, not human, the shadow from visions and scouts' dread. The seal within roared, golden fracture blazing, pain forging Body Tempering 3 into 4, Zhan Tian's soul a storm breaking free. The box burned against his chest, its runes alive, syncing with a jade seal's hum deeper in—Void Fang Relic, Tian Xu's chain, Yan Huo's prison.

Ye Ling flanked him, rusty dagger gleaming, qi blazing—Body Tempering 3, Starveil's flame nearing 4, eyes sharp as a wolf's. Her braid hung tight, voice low. "That cold—it's wrong," she said, breath misting. "Feels like death waiting."

"It's the shade," Lin Feng replied, tone steel, palming a rune-stone. "Silver cloak, jade seal. We end it."

Ye Chen limped close, sling loaded, ward-etched pebble pulsing—Body Tempering 2, fresh and fierce, a spark craving blood. His gaze swept the cave, then Lin Feng. "One shade's worse than twenty," he said, blunt. "Box's open—now what?"

"We take its heart," Lin Feng said, Heaven's Thread coiling—a qi tether ready. "Cave traps it. We strike."

Back in the valley, Ye Qing had grumbled but stayed—spear guarding the gate, Ye Hua's knife beside him, Ye Jun and Ye Mei safe behind stakes. Lin Feng had left traps armed—thorn snares, qi nets, rune wards—to hold the clan. Here, the cave was his ground, qi thick, frost biting. He faced Ye Ling and Ye Chen, his presence a flame in the cold. "Shade's not mortal," he said, voice cutting the hum. "Box called it. I lead, Ling left, Chen right—stones ready."

Ye Ling's qi flared, dagger spinning—Body Tempering 3, bright and fierce. "Let's gut it," she said, slipping left, shadow blending with ice. Ye Chen took the right, sling taut, qi pulsing. Lin Feng stepped into the cave, Pulse Sense mapping—frost-qi a storm, silver silk flashing deep, jade seal glowing, chanting Yan Huo, rise.

The cave narrowed, walls slick, runes faint—older than sects, pulsing cold. Lin Feng's rune-stone hummed, Heaven's Veil shimmering—a shield, qi golden. The shade emerged—silver cloak flowing, face veiled, jade seal raised, qi a void, not Body Tempering but raw power. Its voice rasped, like ice cracking. "Feng—relic's key, Yan Huo's spark. Free it, or burn."

Lin Feng's smirk was cold, Veil steady. "Yan Huo's dust," he said. "You're the ghost—bleed."

The shade moved—frost-qi surged, a blade of ice slashing, heavy as a sect elder's strike. Lin Feng's Veil flickered, deflecting, ice shattering as he darted right, Thread lashing the shade's arm—a tug threw the seal wide. Anchor Strike slammed its chest—no crunch, just cold resistance—but the shade slid back, qi spiking, frost thickening.

Ye Ling struck from the left, dagger flashing—qi roared, Body Tempering 3 peaking, slashing the cloak. Frost sprayed, no blood, the shade hissing as she dodged an ice spike, grinning fierce. "Soft shade!" she shouted, qi surging, Body Tempering 4's spark flickering.

Ye Chen's sling cracked—a ward-stone smashed the shade's shoulder, qi sparking, slowing it. His qi pulsed—Body Tempering 2, solidifying, pebble glowing. "Stay still," he growled, stones raining—two hit, frost cracking, wards flaring.

The shade's seal glowed, frost-qi a tide—ice blades spun, walls groaning. Lin Feng's Veil strained, blocking a spike, Thread binding the seal, yanking it down. Anchor Strike hit the shade's core—cold flared, no break—but it staggered, chanting louder—Yan Huo, rise. The seal roared, pain searing—golden qi broke Body Tempering 4, strength flooding, veins blazing.

Lin Feng pressed, Thread snaring the cloak, Strike hammering the shade's arm—frost shattered, qi dimming. The shade countered—ice blade grazing his shoulder, cloth tearing, blood welling—but Veil held, pain fueling him. He ducked a spike, Strike cracking the seal's edge—a chip fell, frost-qi faltering.

Ye Ling's dagger danced—slashes tore the cloak, frost spilling, her qi a beacon, Body Tempering 4 trembling close. She dodged a blade, striking the shade's leg—ice cracked, no flesh, but it slowed. Ye Chen's stones felled ice shards, three hitting the seal, wards sparking, his qi hitting Body Tempering 2's peak.

The cave shook—frost thickened, runes flaring. Lin Feng's rune-stone flared—wards surged, ice splitting, pinning the shade's cloak. Ye Ling's dagger struck—frost sprayed, the shade hissing. Ye Chen's stone cracked the seal again—light dimmed, qi fading.

The shade rallied, seal blazing—frost-qi roared, ice spikes raining. Lin Feng's Pulse Sense mapped them—he rolled, Veil cracking, Thread binding spikes, shattering them. Anchor Strike slammed the seal—a deep crack, frost pouring— the shade screamed, qi collapsing, cloak fraying.

Ye Ling's qi flared, dagger reaping—cloak shredded, frost fading, her qi hitting Body Tempering 4, flame fierce. Ye Chen's stones rained—seal chipped, his qi solid at Body Tempering 2, wards glowing. The shade fell, seal trembling, voice a rasp. "Yan Huo wakes," it gasped, eyes void-black. "Relic's free—gods burn."

"Burn later," Lin Feng said, looming, qi a golden storm. He struck—Anchor Strike shattered the seal, frost exploding, the shade dissolving into mist, cloak crumbling, qi gone.

Ye Ling cheered, dagger raised, qi blazing—Body Tempering 4, fresh and fierce. "Ghost's dust!" she shouted, grinning wild. Ye Chen lowered his sling, qi pulsing—Body Tempering 2, steady. "It's done," he said, blunt, eyes on Lin Feng. "Box now?"

Lin Feng nodded, blood dripping, seal quieting—Body Tempering 4, solid, pain his anvil. "Back," he said, clutching the jade box. Its arrays burned, frost gone, runes silent—yet heavier, humming new.

At the valley gate, Lin Feng knelt by the ravine, Ye Ling and Ye Chen watching. The box's runes shifted—Void Fang Relic, Tian Xu's chain, Yan Huo's spark. He touched it, seal stirring—a vision flashed: Yan Huo's shadow fading, void closing, whispering, "Relic shifts, heavens watch." Qi steadied, Body Tempering 4 firm, strength his.

Ye Ling's qi flared, eyes sharp. "Shade's gone," she said, dagger steady. "Box feels… quiet."

"Too quiet," Lin Feng said, box cold in his grip. The ravine's crack dimmed, silver light fading, but Pulse Sense caught qi—blue silk, Lin Clan, west, massing again.

Ye Chen's pebble rolled, qi steady. "Shade's dead," he said, blunt. "They're not."

"They'll bleed," Lin Feng replied, rising. He drilled Ye Ling at the gate, Dawn's Thread sharpening her qi—Body Tempering 4, burning bright. "Core, not fire," he said, guiding her stance. Her qi spiked, grin fierce.

Ye Chen sparred, sling cracking—Body Tempering 2, nearing 3, wards glowing. "It's… light," he said, pebble sparking.

Ye Hua brought stew, eyes fierce. "You're our storm," she said, bowls steaming. Ye Jun babbled, Ye Mei's gaze bright.

Lin Feng gazed west, seal humming. Lin Clan's qi grew—fifty, Body Tempering 8s, Wei's wrath. The box pulsed, runes shifting, as Ye Ling gripped her dagger, voice low. "Lin Clan's coming, Feng. That box—shade's gone, but it's not done, is it? It's pulling them—"