92: Chapter 92 Once the name is on fire, I'll be there.

The light path underground dimmed imperceptibly, as if draped with a dusty cloth. The residual flames of the kindling stele flickered, casting wavering shadows on the rock walls, resembling someone anxiously rubbing their hands together in the darkness.

Chen Fan, carrying Su Shuang on his back, suddenly stopped—the hairs on the back of his neck stood up, not from the subterranean chill, but because Su Shuang's breath against his ear was too faint, so light it seemed it could be swept away by the wind.

"They... can't change your name, so they started burning others'." Su Shuang's voice, laced with blood foam, struck his collarbone. "I saw the name 'Lin Qi' fading on the book of fate... like ink bled by water, little by little... spreading out."

Chen Fan's Adam's apple bobbed.

Lin Qi was that kid from the Bronze Instance who always gave him the last half of a roasted sweet potato. When he died, he clutched Chen Fan's clothes and said, "Brother, if we get out, help me send a message to my mother."

He had agreed back then, but now he had to watch that name be scraped off the book of fate?

"Ding—"

The critical hit system buzzed in his Sea of Consciousness. Semi-transparent blue text floated before Chen Fan's eyes: [Name Erasure Event Detected, Triggering 'Collective Memory Backlash': Experience Points × 200%, Unlocking 'Name Inscription Buff' (For every erased person remembered, Critical Hit Rate + 1%)]

He could feel the system core heating up, like iron thrown into a fire. All the faces that had once stood alongside him—Qing Jin, Xiao Ma, Yan Li, Lin Qi... surged in his consciousness. Every face burned until his eyes ached.

"Shuanger." He gently set Su Shuang down, leaning his back against the damp rock wall, a faint blue flame rising from the Yan Sui in his palm.

The person in his arms was so thin his bones jutted out; he could even feel the outline of her ribs through the fabric.

Su Shuang's fox tattoo was glaringly red, as if about to ooze blood, yet she was still smiling, touching the strip of cloth on his chest with her blood-stained fingertip—it was densely covered with names, branded there by him, stroke by stroke, using the Yan Sui.

"Burn it," Su Shuang's nails dug into his wrist. "When names gather in the fire... they can burn through the paper of the book of fate."

Chen Fan said nothing.

The way he untied the cloth strip was slow, as if he were undoing the most precious thing.

The edges of the cloth were already scorched black. The two characters for 'Lin Qi' had been deliberately outlined with a thick brush; now they glowed dark red in the firelight, like the sun-tanned face of a young man.

The moment the flame licked the corner of the cloth, a muffled, thunderous roar echoed from underground.

Chen Fan looked up and saw the light path suddenly blaze bright. The light particles that had dimmed actually coalesced in the air into the outline of a phantom stele. The body of the stele was covered with dense names, exactly those he had written on his cloth strip.

"What they fear isn't your strength," Luo Yan's voice suddenly exploded in his mind, carrying a hint of crackling static. "It's that you remember too much—names gathered together become a blade."

Chen Fan released his hand. The cloth strip curled into a gray butterfly in the fire. The characters 'Lin Qi' rose first, wrapped in sparks, shooting straight toward the peak of the underground passage, like an arrow aimed at the sky.

He watched that point of red light vanish into the darkness, bent down, and picked Su Shuang up onto his back again. The frost in his palm unconsciously surged toward the back of her heart—her body temperature was frighteningly low, like a block of ice.

"Lin Qi, this old man remembers you," he murmured to the empty air. "The next one they burn won't be you."

As he took the next step, a cluster of flames suddenly rose from beneath his foot.

Chen Fan looked down and saw a small flame composed of light particles blooming by his feet on the grayish-blue rock ground. Floating in the center of the flame were the two small characters 'Qing Jin'.

He took another step, and the second flame bloomed: 'Xiao Ma'; the third step: 'Yan Li'...

"The Road of Inscription," Su Shuang murmured against his neck. "They burn names, and we use our footprints to write names... Chen Fan, the light beneath your feet is hotter than the earth fire."

The closer they got to the Starlight Tower, the thicker the black mist became.

Chen Fan could smell the scent of rust—the smell of blood.

Countless semi-transparent gray bells hung in the air. Each bell's surface floated with minute characters. When the wind blew, the bells emitted a hoarse hum, and with every sound, a faint golden light was drawn from the void—that was a name being erased, being collected into the bell.

"They are using the gray bells... to collect the echoes of the departed souls to replenish the ink of the book of fate." Su Shuang suddenly coughed violently, staining his collar red. "If we can intercept one echo... we can rewrite fate." Her fingers dug into his shoulder; her nails almost pierced the fabric. "Chen Fan, their ink is the voice of the departed souls... If you burn this ink, you can burn their brushes."

Chen Fan narrowed his eyes.

He saw the name 'Xiao Ma' floating on the foremost gray bell.

That was the kid from the Bronze Instance who always handed him cold water. When he died, half a knife was stuck in his chest, and the blood had stained the earth red, yet he was still smiling: "Brother, I don't hurt, really."

"The echoes are their ink?" He suddenly laughed, revealing his white teeth. "Fine then—this old man will let this ink burn their brushes."

He gently placed Su Shuang on a protruding rock, his movement as light as setting down a snowflake.

Su Shuang's eyelids drooped heavily, but she forced her eyes open, her fox tattoo glowing blood red. Chen Fan touched her face, turned, and rushed into the black mist.

When his first punch slammed toward the gray bell, he remembered the way Xiao Ma's wrist had trembled while handing him water.

The critical hit system exploded in his Sea of Consciousness: [Wrath Inscription Activated]. Dual-colored flames erupted from his fist—the left fist was ice crystals condensed from Su Shuang's frost energy, and the right fist was Yan Sui tempered by earth fire.

"Frost Devour!" he roared.

The left fist struck the gray bell, frost instantly enveloping it, and the characters 'Xiao Ma' on the surface became coated in white frost.

"Flame Burst!" The right fist followed up, the flames wrapped around the ice crystals detonating.

The moment the gray bell shattered into light particles, a familiar voice exploded between heaven and earth: "Brother... I'm still here..."

It was Xiao Ma's voice.

Chen Fan looked up at the top of the Starlight Tower in the sky. A vermilion brush suddenly trembled, and on the book of fate beneath its tip, scorch marks appeared around the characters 'Su Shuang'.

"It worked!" Luo Yan's voice carried a hint of manic laughter. "Break three more bells, and the book of fate will self-immolate!"

Chen Fan wiped the blood from his face.

He didn't know if the blood was his or Su Shuang's, but he felt his heart pounding as if it would split open.

The name on the second gray bell was 'Yan Li'—that girl who always held a torch to light his way. When she died, the torch fell to the ground, sparks splashing onto her face, and she was still saying, "Brother, don't be afraid of the dark."

The third punch, the fourth punch... Every punch carried the weight of memory.

When the third bell shattered, the voices of the departed in the air converged into a tide. The scent of Qing Jin's sweet potato, Xiao Ma's sweat, Yan Li's torchlight, mingled with the jasmine fragrance from Su Shuang's teacup, condensed into a wave of fire that rushed straight toward the top of the Starlight Tower.

A furious roar came from within the tower.

Chen Fan looked up and saw the vermilion brush snap in half with a 'pa' sound. The edge of the book of fate curled up in scorched black waves, like paper licked by fire.

But before he could breathe a sigh of relief, the critical hit system in his Sea of Consciousness suddenly emitted a piercing alarm: [Excessive Resonance, Bloodline Load Exceeded—Bounder Su Shuang's Life Value is continuously dropping!]

He whipped his head around.

Su Shuang was slumped against the rock. Her fox tattoo, previously red, had faded to ashen white, and her lips were as pale as snow. Her fingers were still posed gripping his lapel, but she no longer had the strength to tighten them.

"Don't..." Her voice was as light as a sigh. "Don't let them... turn remembering into a crime."

Chen Fan knelt before her and pulled her into his embrace.

Her body temperature was draining away, like an ice block melting.

He could feel her heartbeat—one beat, two beats, slowing down until he almost missed counting.

"Shuanger," he kissed her ice-cold forehead. "You said when names are written into fire, the fire gains a soul. Then my fire's soul... is you."

He stood up, carefully cradling Su Shuang in his arm.

At this moment, his fists blazed with unprecedented dual-colored fierce flames—the left fist was frost, the right fist was fire. The two powers intertwined into a vortex in his palms, causing the very air to emit a tearing shriek.

The outline of the Starlight Tower flickered vaguely in the black mist.

Chen Fan looked toward the tower gate, hearing his own heartbeat drown out all other noise.

He walked forward step by step, each footfall shaking the ground, as if intending to crush the very earth veins.

The black mist before the tower gate suddenly churned, as if an invisible hand were stirring it.

Chen Fan narrowed his eyes and saw three blood talismans floating out of the black mist, radiating an eerie red light, slowly rotating and sealing the tower gate tightly.

Su Shuang's head leaned lightly against his chest.

He could feel her breath, extremely light, like a snowflake landing on a fire.

"They want to replenish the ink?" Chen Fan looked at the three blood talismans, his voice low, like magma surging from the earth. "Fine then—this old man will use names to burn a pool of ink."

His steps did not falter.

The black mist was like a wall, the blood talismans rotated.

The gate of the Starlight Tower was right ahead.