Dawn broke over the Emberclad Mountains, casting a pale gold across the sect's sprawling upper tiers but no warmth came with the light.
The disciples of the inner court awoke in confusion.
Last night, the flame pillars of the archive grounds — sacred symbols that burned pure blue — had turned black for a single breath.
Just one.
But for cultivators, that breath was enough to change a lifetime. Elders whispered behind sealed doors. Disciples kept their eyes low and questions lower.
Only one truth spread like wildfire: Shen Yao had entered the inner court and he hadn't used the gate.
He stood now at the edge of the Flame Scroll Pavilion, robes still marked with soot. His hair, once kept in tidy knots, now fell loosely over his shoulders — not unruly, but wild, like the flicker of fire barely restrained.
A senior disciple blocked his path.
Tall. Condescending. A jade badge gleaming on his chest — Inner Court Lieutenant, 3rd Rank.
"You're not permitted here, outer dog."
Shen Yao didn't answer. He simply reached into his sleeve and pulled out a slip of flame-carved talon wood — a pass token etched with Elder Ruo's soul imprint.
The senior disciple's eyes narrowed.
"That elder is dead."
"So I've heard," Shen Yao replied calmly. "Would you like to verify the soul signature with the Flame Altar?"
The disciple flinched.
He couldn't. No one could. Once a soul imprint burned away, it left no trace.
Shen Yao smiled slightly — not friendly.
Predatory then walked past.
Inside the pavilion, ancient scrolls floated in stasis flames, untouchable by mortal hands. The scent of age and incense mixed with heat — the kind that clung to bones, not skin.
A low-tier fireproof talisman floated to his palm. Shen Yao reached for a section marked 'Flame Vein Aberrations and Suppressed Paths' — a shelf most had forgotten, forbidden, or feared.
He found it within three steps.
One scroll. Dusty. Untouched in fifty years.
"Ash Root Theory: On the Sacrifice of Self for the Forging of Flame."
He unsealed it with a drop of soul blood and he read.
>To surpass one's realm, the flame must no longer be a tool. It must become an identity. The cultivator must embrace the fate of annihilation and rebirth, not once, but repeatedly… until no part of him remains mortal.
>Ash is not the end of fire. It is its memory.
>True flame cultivation begins at the edge of extinction.
When he finished, he smiled.
Not from joy but from recognition.
The system stirred in his chest.
[System Insight – Codex Match Detected.]
Ash Root Theory aligns with current progression route. System will now adapt scroll principles into Flame Resonance Node: Ember Core Integration Path.
Warning: Integration requires ignition of partial soul flame.
Proceed? Y/N
"Yes," he said aloud.
The scroll dissolved into embers and flew into his chest and the fire inside him began to grow teeth.
Elsewhere, within the Hall of Scarlet Plume… Elder Xin Cheng, head of Flame Technique Enforcement, slammed his palm into a jade table, shattering it into shards.
"That boy should not have access to inner records!"
An attendant kneeled.
"Elder Ruo's access token was used—"
"Elder Ruo is dead! Killed under unknown circumstances!"
Xin Cheng's hands curled.
Too many signs. Too much smoke. And now Shen Yao, the fallen genius, the stagnated joke — was walking freely through restricted flame scripture halls like an honored son of the sect?
It was more than arrogance.
It was a declaration.
Elder Xin Cheng turned to the wall. A set of crimson talismans hung there — sealed execution orders. He reached toward one.
Paused then clenched his jaw.
"Watch that brat. Not yet. If we strike too early…"
He didn't finish.
The fire behind his eyes flickered with caution and fear.
Back at the base of the Flame Scroll Pavilion, Shen Yao emerged — eyes sharper, spine straighter. Inside him, the Ember Core stirred, no longer passive. It had teeth now. It spun not as a container — but as a furnace.
[System Update: Ember Core Realm – Initial Stage Reached.]
Soul Flame now capable of external weaponization. Infernal Immortality System attuned to 2nd Node progression.
New Ability Unlocked: Ashforged Flame Blade.
— Condense soul flame into a weapon. Shape based on current karmic weight. Warning: Overuse risks soul instability.
He walked to the training grounds.
Found a dueling ring.
Stepped inside and waited.
He didn't speak. Didn't gesture. Just stood there — arms at his side, head slightly tilted, expression unreadable and that, of course, drew them in like moths.
First came a Cinder Vein cultivator — arrogant, boasting, mockery in his tone. Shen Yao didn't dodge the first blow.
He let it land then grabbed the disciple's wrist And burned it to bone.
No one saw what technique he used.
No chant. No scroll.
Just flame — black at the edges, silent at the core.
It didn't explode.
It consumed.
When the disciple screamed, Shen Yao simply released him and walked away. Five more stepped into the ring before the hour ended.
Four left broken.
The last one didn't leave at all.
[Sinflame Ledger Updated.]
- 1 Karmic Flame Consumed.
+ 0.25 Ember Core Expansion.
+ 1 Minor Flame Will Integration.
In the outer court, Shen Yao had been a ghost. Here, in the inner court, he became a shadow with form. Rumors could no longer contain him. Now they feared him openly. Some began calling him Ash Fang — a nickname whispered like a curse but one name carried louder than the rest.
Whispered by an old flame seer who hadn't left her temple in decades:
"The Burnt Error has returned."
That night, Shen Yao sat on the rooftop of the abandoned Tower Seven — the one scorched during an old divine punishment, long since left in ruins. Beside him stood Wei Qingshuang, arms folded.
"You're stirring too much attention," she said flatly.
"That's the point."
"You'll provoke the elders."
"I hope I do."
She scoffed. "Still full of fire."
"No," he said softly.
"I'm just done pretending to be ashes."
A few hours later— "You—Yao…?" Zhou Liang blinked rapidly. "What—what are you—"