The bell rang for the sixth time.
"Dang—"
Chen Wuya staggered, and a thin crack split open beneath his feet. He raised a hand to wipe away the fresh blood at the corner of his mouth, his fingertips stained dark red. Bai Zhi reached out to steady him, but he sidestepped her touch.
"I'm fine," he said. "My head's just a little heavy."
Mo Feng stared at the mechanism compass, its needle spinning madly. "The bells are speeding up. They may have already noticed someone is interfering with the ritual."
Ahead in the passage, the outline of a bronze door rose and fell in the red glow like a breathing mouth. The light spilling through its seam grew brighter and brighter, making the carvings in the rock walls begin to writhe faintly.
The three halted at the corner, not daring to draw any closer.
Chen Wuya leaned against the stone wall and closed his eyes to regulate his breathing. The Misaligned Force in his sea of consciousness was still crashing about wildly. Forcibly reversing the runes earlier had caused backlash through his meridians. He could feel the system repairing him slowly, but it was far too slow.
Bai Zhi lowered her voice. "We can't delay any longer. If the cauldron gate opens, the consequences will be far more than mere deaths."
Mo Feng nodded. "We have to cut off the blood supply channel before the ninety-eighth toll, or Brother Chen's plan cannot be activated."
Chen Wuya opened his eyes, just about to speak, when a muffled boom suddenly sounded overhead.
A plume of bluish-purple smoke drilled through a crack in the rock layer and burst into the air in the shape of a lotus. Its light briefly illuminated the entire passage before swiftly dying out.
Bai Zhi abruptly looked up,