Shen Liun's consciousness flickered.
Pain. That was the first thing he felt. Every inch of his body screamed. His bones were shattered. His Qi was gone. His meridians—torn.
He was dying.
No, a voice growled in his mind. Not yet.
In the pitch-black silence of the Abyssal Pit, a spark ignited. A burning ember in his chest—black and gold. The symbol of the Ashen Flame, an ancient cultivation core thought to be extinct.
The Emperor of Ashes, once sealed in the abyss by the Heavens themselves, found his heir.
"You have been wronged by the heavens, boy," the voice said. "So was I. Let us make a pact."
Shen Liun, on the edge of death, clenched his broken fist. Rage swelled in his chest. He remembered Ruoxi's face. Her cold voice. The screams of his clan.
He forced out three words:
"I... accept... everything."
At that moment, a flame consumed his broken body—not to burn him—but to rebirth him.
The Ashen Path had begun.