The moonlight streamed through the cracks in the bamboo leaves, casting silver shadows over the stone walls of Long Tianyan's residence. Two weeks had passed since Sect Master Qing Wuyou had taken him in as his personal disciple—an event that still rippled through the Verdant Mist Sect like a storm. But Tianyan had not spent those days basking in glory or mingling with inner sect disciples.
He had vanished.
Deep within the secluded part of the inner sect, in a dense forest forbidden to ordinary disciples, Tianyan sat cross-legged in a clearing surrounded by the remnants of shattered weapons and burned herbs. The air pulsed with heat and strange resonance—evidence of something ancient stirring beneath the surface.
Inside him, the flame stirred again.
A low growl echoed through his soul, resonating from a place far beyond the realm of mortals. His consciousness was pulled inward, back to the moment on the cliff edge when everything had changed—when the first dragon had awakened.
Azureflame.
Its eyes were like molten sapphires, scales glistening with ripples of blazing azure. The ancient dragon's voice rolled through Tianyan's soul like thunder cloaked in serenity.
"You survived death. Now you shall master flame."
In that realm between spirit and thought, the Azureflame Dragon coiled in a sky of roaring fire. Its voice was calm, but its words were law.
"You are the bearer of the Nine Primordial Flames. Even the Old Dragon Emperor possessed no more than three. But you… you are born of the forgotten line."
Tianyan's eyes flickered open in the real world—burning blue like a living flame. But in his mind, he remained before the dragon.
"The path you walk is beyond talent. It is destiny forged in blood and flame," the dragon continued. "Each of the Nine Flames is tied to a dragon, and each dragon a power lost to time."
Then, as if etched by fire itself, the names of the flames appeared in Tianyan's mind:
1.Azureflame – Swift, pure, and eternal.
2.Crimson Abyss Flame – Destructive and wrathful, a sea of devouring hell.
3.Frostvoid Flame – Cold enough to freeze space and tear through spirit defenses.
4.Thundergloom Flame – Crackling lightning cloaked in chaotic gloom.
5.Verdant Sky Flame – Life-giving and poisonous, both healer and destroyer.
6.Obsidian Hellflame – Gravity-bound flame of destruction, slow and unstoppable.
7.Lustrous Goldflame – The flame of metal and war, able to consume weapons and forge them anew.
8.Celestial Starfire – Flame born from heavenly stars, explosive and blinding.
9.Netherlily Flame – Illusory and deadly, draining soul and spirit in silence.
"To wield their power, you must awaken their dragon souls. I, the Azureflame Dragon, shall teach you the first part Primordial Dragonflame Sword."
The moment the name was uttered, Tianyan's spirit realm quaked. Flames began swirling around him in the real world. His hands moved as if possessed, forming seals older than sects or scriptures.
A sword formed from pure azure fire coalesced above his palm—its blade flickering with barely contained power. It was no ordinary weapon. It carried the will of a dragon, the weight of destiny.
The Azureflame Dragon spoke once more, its voice softer now.
"This sword technique is the beginning. With it, you shall conquer. Refine herbs, devour steel, absorb flame—feed us, and we shall awaken. But be warned… power awakens danger."
For the next two weeks, Tianyan trained without rest.
He hunted spirit beasts in the forbidden forest, crushed ancient weapons into powder, and refined rare herbs until their spiritual energy turned to cinders within his grasp. Every day, the sword burned brighter. Every movement became smoother—less human, more divine.
On the twelfth day, his flame surged to the heavens.
A pillar of azure fire shot up into the sky, alarming several inner sect elders. But no one dared approach—Qing Wuyou's decree kept all at bay.
On the final day, Tianyan stood in the center of a blasted field, his body soaked in sweat and steam. The moment he completed the final strike of the Primordial Dragonflame Sword, his entire dantian shook.
A vortex formed above his head, and his cultivation broke through.
9th Layer of the Spiritual Sea Realm.
In two weeks, he had done what most geniuses took a year to achieve.
He sheathed the azure flame into his palm—though it had no true sheath—and looked toward the horizon.
The first dragon was satisfied. But eight more waited. Eight more flames. Eight more awakenings.
And the real war… had not even begun.