Gold light burst from Ling Feiyu’s chest. Eight arcs joined into a bell around him, eight feet tall and three inches thick. Eighty-one seals glowed on its surface. Before the bell closed, Pei Jing saw the lines of all eight arcs meet on one seal near Ling’s shoulder. The gale stopped at the barrier.
Inside the bell, Ling took his first full breath since the sword had gone flying. His grandfather had made the Nine-Solar Golden Bell Barrier himself. It could withstand three full blows from a Foundation Establishment war hammer. No ordinary cultivator at Qi Gathering could leave a scratch on it.
“Fool,” Ling said through the gold. “You broke the tether. The blade is still bound to my blood. Give me two breaths and I’ll reach it again—”
Pei Jing was already on the edge of the boulder. The Cloud-Splitter stayed in its sheath. A blade could slide off the bell’s smooth sides. The seals themselves had a weak point.
In his old life, a fraud could be spread across a dozen accounts and still depend on one entry. He’d learned to look for the line that held the others together. The eight arcs of this barrier met at a single junction.
