Chapter 30: Binding Heart Chain

The fog of the Eternal Silence Swamp never dissipates.

Xueyin led Jin and Ailia at the very front.

The high elf’s instinctual resonance with nature became their only guide in this moment.

“Ribbit.”

An extremely faint frog croak came from beneath the roots of a withered tree on the left.

Xueyin looked towards the sound.

A swamp frog was squatting in a rotten tree hollow, its tympanic membrane vibrating slightly, as if sizing her up.

Xueyin crouched down, meeting its gaze at eye level.

“We are looking for an abandoned church. Do you know its location?”

“Ribbit.”

The swamp frog croaked again, gently paddled with its front limbs, turned towards the northeast, then leaped away, vanishing into the fog.

The journey that followed became a strange kind of path-guiding ritual.

Whenever the three of them lost their way, some creature of the swamp would always appear.

An old turtle with a cracked carapace emerged from the black water, slowly paddling southeast, climbing onto a withered log protruding from the water’s surface, and staying there until Xueyin caught up before sinking back into the depths.

A silver-scaled water snake dangled from a dead branch, flicking its tongue, swam several yards due north, then turned back, as if urging them on.

At the edge of the thick fog, a broken silhouette slowly took shape.

The Crying Bone Church.

Gray-white stone walls were covered in cracks, vines hung from the crevices, the dome had mostly collapsed, and the remaining stone carvings were so weathered their original forms were unrecognizable.

A stone door was half-buried in rubble, the inscription on its lintel covered in moss, leaving only a blurred outline.

Xueyin turned, taking Jin’s hand.

His fingers were icy, but tightened slightly the moment they touched her palm.

“Ailia,” she lowered her voice, “stay close. Stay alert.”

Ailia nodded, following behind the two.

The three of them stepped into the church.

The interior was more cavernous than imagined.

Moonlight slanted down through a crack in the dome, illuminating a stone platform at the center.

On it lay only a complete fallen angel skeleton, its wings spread as if embracing the heavens, its skull bowed as if in penitence.

Around the skeleton’s chest was coiled a chain.

The chain was pitch black, its links forged like vertebrae, the inner side of each ring densely inscribed with runes that faintly glowed.

The tail of the chain trailed to the ground, disappearing into a stone crevice, as if connected to the very foundation of the entire church.

The Heart-Binding Chain.

Xueyin’s heart sank slightly, but her expression remained unchanged.

“The three of you have finally arrived.”

A voice suddenly rang out, a whisper seeping from the cracks in the four walls like a hundred voices chanting in unison, ancient and solemn.

The flagstones on the ground lit up in response—a concentric circle array appeared, three rings in total, each inscribed with different runes:

Outer Ring: The Nun’s Vow—With blood prove the heart, without falsehood or deceit.

Middle Ring: The Elf’s Song—With voice call the soul, without fear or concealment.

Inner Ring: The Fallen One’s Pain—With bone bear the sin, without death or flight.

“The Gravekeeper’s prophecy,” Ailia whispered, reading a line of small script at the edge of the stone platform.

“When one of nun, elf, and fallen angel blood arrives together, the Heart-Binding Chain may be taken. Yet no single person’s strength can seize it. The three must each bear a trial, passing through with one heart.”

Xueyin looked at the three rings of runes, falling silent for a moment before speaking.

“Fate really does enjoy toying with people.”

“What?”

Ailia was startled.

Xueyin shook her head.

“I was just thinking, the three of us—an apostate nun, a fugitive magical girl, and a cursed half-blood fallen angel—gathered together. We’re practically the ‘bad examples’ handpicked by some ancient prophecy.”

Ailia said softly, “And yet it is us, precisely now, who have walked to this place. I believe fate is guiding us.”

“Human effort shapes events,” Xueyin said, closing her eyes.

“It was our own choices that brought each other here. Whether to walk this path has always been our own decision to make.”

The three of them each took their positions.

Ailia stepped into the outer ring.

The runes on the ground blazed with bloody light, and the rose mark on the side of her neck suddenly burned fiercely.

An illusion descended.

It was the meditation chamber of Moon-glow Fortress.

The walls were carved with scriptures, windowless and lampless, save for a single eternal candle.

She knelt on the cold stone floor, fine beads of blood seeping from the Crown of Penitence around her neck.

The Archbishop’s voice surged from all directions: “Ailia, do you repent?”

“I once kept my vows for a god,” her voice trembled, yet was firm.

“Now I keep truth for the human heart.”

She slit her palm.

Blood dripped onto the runes.

The illusion shattered.

The middle ring.

Xueyin stepped in.

The ground manifested illusions: Zhou Yao tearing up test papers, the countdown board for the college entrance exams, her mother’s tear-streaked face crying out.

And the tragic ends of the magical girls from her dreams.

Then, she saw Jin’s smiling face on the night of the Crimson Flame Festival.

That was his purest smile, from before the curse began to consume him.

The illusory mother cried out, “Come back, Xueyin.

Leave this monster, and you can live.”

Xueyin looked at that smiling face.

The confusion in her eyes receded like a tide, replaced by a stubborn, almost reckless courage.

“I don’t need to live alone,” she said softly, reaching out to touch the illusory smiling face

“I need him to live too.”

“I am Xueyin Yueling. I am Jin’s master, and also his place of return.”

Silver-dust magic power flowed like a stream over the stone array.

The illusion dissipated like mist.

The inner ring.

Guided, Jin knelt.

The fire that burned his village blazed anew.

The villagers’ curses, the crackle of flames, “Why did only you survive?”

The angry accusations from the phantom figures of the mercenary band.

His whole body trembled.

Black flame nearly spiraled out of control.

His eyes began to roll back, his consciousness on the verge of being swallowed by the pain.

Then, he saw Xueyin.

That master who wore the Moon-shadow Silk gown at the Crimson Flame Festival, watching fireworks with him.

Jin’s pupils snapped into focus.

“Master is waiting for me,” he rasped, his voice hoarse but firm.

“I won’t let her down.”

He did not avoid the pain.

Instead, he met the illusory flames, letting them scorch his soul.

Within the pain, he anchored himself.

The three rings of runes blazed brightly simultaneously!

The Heart-Binding Chain flew up from the skeleton’s chest, hovering in the air, slowly rotating.

The Gravekeeper’s voice sounded once more:

“The nun proved true heart with blood, without falsehood.

The elf called true name with heart, without concealment.

The fallen one bore true self with pain, without flight.

Three truths united, the Heart-Binding Chain may be bestowed.”

The chain descended.

The pitch-black links burrowed into Jin’s flesh like living things, tightly cinching around his wrist bones.

“Gahhh!!”

Jin let out a cry that sounded inhuman, his whole body arching violently.

The runes on the Heart-Binding Chain erupted with light, as if trying to forcibly tear his soul from his body.

“Master…” Jin’s voice was broken, ragged, tinged with sobs. “It hurts… it really hurts…”

Xueyin immediately stepped forward, grabbing his trembling shoulders and pulling him half into her embrace.

Jin’s forehead pressed against her chest as he gasped for breath, his cold sweat soaking through her clothes.

Xueyin didn’t speak.

She just pressed her palm against his chest.

Silver-dust magic power transformed into a gentle, warm current, flowing slowly along his blood vessels.

It was the life-giving power unique to high elves, carrying the coolness and gentleness of moonlight, gradually soothing the intense pain brought by the chain.

“Master…” he panted.

“I really didn’t expect it to hurt this much… I thought it was just putting on a chain…”

“Hurting means it’s right,” Xueyin said, seeing Jin gradually regain clarity, her taut nerves finally relaxing, though her words remained stubbornly hard.

“It hurts so you know you’re still alive.”

After a while, Jin’s breathing gradually steadied, and his cold sweat slowly receded.

He suddenly twitched his nose, his voice carrying the daze of having survived a calamity and a trace of imperceptible attachment.

“Master, you smell so nice. You’re so fragrant, so soft.”

Xueyin stiffened, the silver halo at the tips of her ears instantly burning bright red.

“Huh?! HUH???”

Jin gave a shallow, bitter smile, his forehead still pressed against her chest without moving.

“Master’s chest is pressed against my forehead. It’s hard for me to pretend I don’t notice, right?”

“You!”

Xueyin sharply turned her face away, only then realizing how intimate their posture was.

Flustered, she helped Jin sit upright, then fumbled at her waist for the Waxwood Wand that had broken into two pieces.

“Master, I just recovered…” Jin looked at the broken wand, his voice tight.

Xueyin, embarrassed into anger, raised the short wand—

“Thwack!”

She struck Jin on the forehead with the wand. Not hard, but crisp and clear.

Jin froze, even forgetting to cry out in pain.

Ailia also froze, having been keeping watch around them.

She hurriedly looked back, face full of confusion.

“I told you,” Xueyin said, her fingers holding the wand trembling slightly, though her cheeks were as red as ripe apples.

“If you dare make me angry or act improperly, I will knock you on the head!”

A second strike was raised high.

Jin instinctively flinched, but saw Xueyin’s hand pause mid-air.

In the end, she just gently ruffled his hair.

“What an idiot,” Xueyin said, lowering the wand, her tone carrying irrepressible happiness.

“Also, welcome back.”

Jin suddenly smiled.

Not a bitter smile, not self-mockery, but a real smile that welled up from the depths of his heart, carrying the relief and ache of having survived a calamity.

“Master,” he said, his voice hoarse but gentle.

“Thank you for coming to get me.”

Xueyin didn’t answer.

She just stared into his eyes, which finally held life again, for a long time.

The Gravekeeper’s voice sounded one final time, gentle and solemn:

“You have broken illusion with truth, overcome fear with faith, replaced slaughter with protection. This is proof enough that you are worthy of the Heart-Binding Chain.

Yet grace is not without cost.

A thousand years ago, the ninety thousand troops under the fallen angel’s banner, for refusing to swear the Demon King’s blood oath, were suppressed within the Thousand-Bone Chasm.

Their souls are locked in bone prisons, unable to pass on for all eternity.

Their resentment has turned to fog, their withered bones have formed mountains, their wails have congealed into frost.

Since you bear the creative blood of the high elf, you shall bear the covenant of liberation.

Set out now for the Thousand-Bone Chasm.

With blood as the guide, with song as the key, break their seal, send them to their final rest.

This is not salvation.

It is the settling of an old debt.

This is a contract.

“It is also destiny.”

Xueyin was silent for a long while, finally closing her hands.

“I always used to want to hide. But now, I feel I truly can do something for this world.”

Jin stood at her side, the Heart-Binding Chain’s faint light flowing.

He said quietly, “Wherever Master goes, I go. Those suppressed souls… it’s a debt owed by my ancestors. I should repay it.”

Ailia’s rose mark glowed faintly.

She looked towards the dawn light piercing the thick fog outside the church, her voice calm yet firm.

“I once thought piety was kneeling before a statue, begging for grace. Now I understand—true faith is embracing this world with a sincere heart. Where the heart points is the path I must walk.”

The dawn light completely pierced the thick fog of the Eternal Silence Swamp, shining upon the three of them.

They walked out of the Crying Bone Church.

Behind them, the ruins slowly sank into the earth, as if they had never existed.