As Ethan crossed into the second floor, the searing flames curled around him and then, silence.
A soft wind stirred the air,
Filled with the scent of rain.
He blinked.
Gone was the molten corridor. He now stood at the foot of his childhood village the Village of Quiet Flames untouched by fire or time. The cobblestone streets, the crooked herb stalls, even the soft laughter of villagers it all looked exactly as he remembered.
But it couldn't be.
They were all dead.
His heart raced.
This is an illusion,
He muttered,
Gripping the hilt of the Dragon Slayer Sword.
It has to be
But then
Ethan you're back.
Quick.
He turned and froze.
His mother stood there gentle, serene, alive. Her hands carried the wooden box she always used to keep herbs. Her eyes they shimmered with warmth and sorrow.
Something inside him cracked.
No this isn't real
You abandoned us.
She whispered,
You walked away while we burned.
The sky darkened.
The entire village caught fire in an instant no screams, no panic just fire that devoured all. The flames moved like memories, whispering every regret, every hesitation, every failure.
This was the trial of the mind.
A thousand voices echoed around him. Elena's voice screaming his name in despair. His father's last words before vanishing. Sect elders mocking him. His enemies gloating. A hundred versions of Ethan stood before him all broken, defeated, lost.
He dropped to one knee,
Gasping as his chest constricted.
The fire wasn't just burning around himit was burning within him. It found the cracks in his soul and widened them.
If your will falters,
The wraith's voice echoed from nowhere, This illusion becomes your tomb.
Ethan's vision blurred. A shadowy figure stepped from the flames it was him, cloaked in black, eyes dead, holding a charred Dragon Slayer Sword.
Give up.
The shadow said,
You'll never be enough.
Ethan gritted his teeth. Sweat mixed with tears. He remembered every step that had brought him here his struggle, his sacrifice, the people he protected.
I fight not because I am fearless but because I choose not to surrender.
He slammed his palm to the ground, sending out a ripple of flame-refining qi. His acupuncture knowledge surged forth, triggering a self-stabilizing pulse through his spiritual veins. The illusion flickered.
The dark version of himself snarled and lunged.
Ethan raised his blade.
Their swords clashed.
The battle was one of spirit each strike revealing hidden guilt, secret pain, and chained regrets. But Ethan pushed forward. He roared, breaking through the final illusion with a flare of raw determination.
I am not my past.
The shadow fractured, shattering into a thousand burning butterflies that scattered into the wind.
The fire dimmed.
He stood once more in the true second-floor chamber, the illusion dispelled. Before him hovered the reward
A Flame Mirror Shard, glowing with inner fire and reflecting his true self.
As he touched it,
Warmth surged through his core. His soul was being tempered now, just like his body had been.
He had survived the flame of memory.
But this was only the second step.
The gate to the third floor split open slowly, revealing a thunderous hum and distant growls.
Ethan exhaled,
Wiping sweat from his brow.
The deeper he climbed, the deeper the flame sought to unmake him.
And he would face every floor until the fire bowed to his will.