The crimson spear-tip of corrupted energy was a finger's width from the fabric of Lin Tian's robe.
He couldn't move his body. But he didn't need to.
His mind was a nexus, a command center with three direct lines. The torrent of Absolute Zero flowed into Xueya, a river of glacial purity. The flood of Solar Flare Yang burned into Su Lan, a forge of controlled annihilation. And the space between them, the circuit of his own being, was a crucible holding the raw, unrefined essence of both.
The System's notification flashed at the edge of his awareness, irrelevant. The spearman's roar was a distant insect buzz. All that existed was the balance.
He didn't break the circuit. He bent it.
