Darkness enveloped everything.
A bone-chilling cold seeped in through every limb and bone.
He fell, endlessly falling.
The wind howled sharply past his ears—or perhaps it was not wind at all. Zhang Tie's memories had originally been muddled, as though stuffed with waterlogged cotton, heavy and murky. Yet this descent was like an invisible chisel, prying open those clogged corners bit by bit.
Fragmented images burst forth.
At the final moment, the floodgates of memory crashed open.
"Emperor's Order, Xuan Gu!"
Zhang Tie's eyes snapped open in absolute darkness. It was not that he had forgotten; he had been obscured, forcibly dragged into the depths of his consciousness by some power. Now that the waters had receded, he could finally "see" clearly.
What lay before him was not absolute darkness.
A dim, viscous red glow formed the backdrop of his vision. That red light came from all around him, from the threads wrapped around him and burrowing into his body.
The threads were densely packed, extending from every direction. Their source was a gigantic cocoon woven from countless crimson threads, completely enclosing him. He floated within it like an insect trapped in amber.
His blood and vitality were draining away slowly but steadily. The ends of the threads pierced his skin, not deeply, as they slowly siphoned away his blood and vitality.
Zhang Tie did not move immediately.
He first flexed the muscles in his arm. The threads tightened accordingly, bringing a clear sense of restraint and a stronger pull. He held his breath and sank his awareness into every limb and bone, sensing the dormant, gathering power within his meridians.
Good. Aside from the slight weakness caused by the gradual loss of blood and vitality, his cultivation remained intact, and his Immortal power circulated without hindrance.
Then...
The muscles