Title: First Gate – Wrathfire Veins
The scroll in Zhu Yan's hands pulsed like a living heart.
Its bone-bound surface felt warm, wet even, as if freshly torn from a corpse still screaming. As he unrolled it, the sigils writhed — not ink, but blood infused with demonic intent.
One line burned brighter than the rest:
「First Gate: Wrathfire Veins」
A diagram surged into view — a map of the human body, but distorted. Veins twisted into shapes like serpents and chains. Pressure points marked with glyphs of agony and hatred. At its center, a single note:
"Burn the body. Temper the soul."
Zhu Yan inhaled deeply, steadying his mind. He sat cross-legged, laid the scroll before him, and prepared to enter the First Gate.
There was no pill. No elixir.
Only one instruction.
Ignite your own blood.
He drove his finger into the center of his chest, forcing his Qi to gather like a vortex. His dantian trembled, the remnants of his former cultivation resisting — but it was too late. The Manual had rewritten him.
With a growl, he released the flow.
Flames erupted beneath his skin.
They were not red, nor blue — but black with edges of crimson. Wrathfire — the signature of demonic ascension. The heat didn't scald flesh… it branded identity.
Zhu Yan screamed as his veins twisted, turning darker, tougher — like molten chains fusing into muscle. Each breath burned. Each heartbeat roared like war drums.
His soul cracked.
His memories surged: betrayal, exile, death — and behind them, echoes of lives not his own. Memories of a demon king who tore stars in half. Of a general who slaughtered heavens.
And from within all of it… his own voice rose.
"I am Zhu Yan. And I reject the sky."
The flames intensified.
The diagram on the scroll glowed, then dissolved — absorbed into him.
And then… silence.
Smoke drifted from his skin. His eyes opened — twin vortexes of shadow and red. His heartbeat was slow, deliberate. His limbs felt heavier, but sharper — like a weapon newly forged.
Zhu Yan had passed the First Gate.
His Wrathfire Veins now pulsed with power no righteous sect would ever accept.
But that didn't matter.
For the first time, he didn't want their approval.
He wanted their fear.
And with that thought… he smiled.