The outer barrier bent inward as the storm reached full force. Qinghe watched the instruments while the old furnace surged against its casing. The central line could no longer remain stable without an anchor.
Yan had reviewed the opening sequence and stood ready at the inner ring. Before this moment, Final Offering had not been active. He placed both palms on the ring and began its first prescribed cycle.
The art sent its destructive personal cost through body, foundation, soul, and lifespan. The System reversed each intrinsic effect into strength and life before it could injure him. His channels grew denser, his foundation steadied, and his soul held more firmly. The first force rushed through him and left him stronger than he had been a moment before.
The ceiling shook. Dust drifted around the ring. Those hazards stayed real. Yan kept the current within the marked channel and followed the first line of the manuscript.
Qinghe called the sequence from the console. “Hold the first mark. Read back the output.”
Yan gave her the number. Qiao checked it against the repaired bracket and reported that the line was holding. Qinghe compared both readings, then called the next movement.
Yan followed it easily. He enjoyed the force gathering in his body, a bright surge that made the strain of the storm feel small inside him. He did not let that pleasure turn him careless. He kept the furnace’s current directed through the intended path and shifted his palm by the width…
