As Ethan stepped beyond the flaming gate and the world shifted.
A deafening silence consumed him. The air thickened, pressing against his skin with suffocating heat. The corridor twisted into darkness, lit only by floating embers that shimmered like ghostly fireflies. The walls pulsed with red-orange veins, the stone itself alive with ancient, dormant flame.
Behind him, the entrance vanished.
He was alone.
A low rumble echoed beneath his feet. With each step he took, the embers flickered brighter, guiding him into the heart of the trial.
Then came the voice deep, old, and rumbling like magma churning beneath the earth.
To pass the Ember Trial,
You must be unmade and remade.
The path ended at a vast chamber lit by an infernal sky. There were no torches, only fire that burned without consuming suspended in rings around a central platform.
Upon the platform stood a solitary figure charred black, faceless, cloaked in chains of flame. It turned to Ethan, raising a sword wreathed in flickering red aura. Not a word was spoken, but Ethan knew.
This was a flame wraith. A remnant forged from the regrets of ancient warriors who failed the pagoda's trial.
And it wanted his life.
With a hiss of burning wind, the wraith attacked its blade screeching through the air. Ethan drew the Dragon Slayer Sword just in time, meeting the strike with a thunderous clash. Sparks burst, searing the air between them.
The pressure was immense.
This wasn't just a physical fight it tested his qi, his will, and the clarity of his soul. Each clash with the flame wraith burned into his limbs, threatening to strip away his control. He parried, dodged, countered but the heat gnawed at his spirit.
Whispers filled the chamber regrets, fears, failures all his doubts spoken back to him in the voice of fire,
You are not worthy,
You fear what you could become,
You carry pain you refuse to face.
The words clawed at his mind.
But Ethan gritted his teeth, eyes blazing,
I've tempered pain into strength.
Doubt into resolve.
I am not the same boy who ran from his past.
With a cry, he unleashed a spiraling qi technique, lacing the Dragon Slayer Sword with both internal energy and acupuncture-point precision. His slash cut through the flaming chains of the wraith, severing the first ring of its binding.
It screamed not in pain, but in fury.
The battle escalated.
Flames rose from the floor, forming roaring serpents that lunged toward Ethan. He leapt over one, slid under another, and used a silver needle to anchor himself mid-air, twisting to land behind the wraith.
The wraith cracked and burst into embers, its sword crumbling into ash. As the dust settled, a new sound emerged: the deep hum of spiritual fire welcoming a victor.
From the center of the platform, a pedestal emerged bearing a crimson orb the Ember Core. As Ethan grasped it, warmth rushed through his limbs, searing but empowering. His meridians groaned, bones vibrated, muscles tightened.
A wave of flame qi entered him not just tempering his body, but etching fire-inscribed runes beneath his skin.
This was the Flame Pagoda's gift.
His eyes widened,
His body was changing. The Ember Core was refining his foundation, fortifying every inch of him with purifying heat. It was like being reforged in a divine forge.
The gate to the second floor opened ahead, flames curling away like curtains parting to welcome a new challenger.
Ethan stood, breath steady, eyes sharp,
One floor down.
Six level up to unravel the mysterious Treasure.