A crimson dawn broke over the peaks of the Skyrect Sect, painting the sky with brushstrokes of fire and shadow. Towering mountains pierced the clouds like spears, their roots wrapped in mists that never lifted. Birds with feathered auras circled lazily above, their cries echoing like chants across the vast landscape.
Lin Xun stood at the gate.
His robes were torn. His steps were heavy. But his eyes—his eyes were twin storms, one of fire, one of frost.
Before him, the great arched gate of the Skyrect Sect pulsed with runes. Jade stone pillars lined the path, each inscribed with names lost to history—former titans, sect heroes, disciples who had risen to immortality.
He stepped forward.
The moment his foot crossed the threshold, a pulse of spiritual light rippled outward. A deep, ancient voice echoed from the gate itself.
> "Name and purpose."
His fingers flexed.
> "Lin Xun," he said. "To cultivate. To dominate."
The runes flickered, testing his presence, measuring his qi. Fire flared in one glyph. Frost bloomed in another. Then silence.
> "Accepted."
The gate opened with a soft groan.
He stepped through.
---
Inside, the sect was a world unto itself. Vast training fields stretched like valleys of martial ambition. Towers rose like pillars of wisdom, surrounded by elemental fountains that bubbled with raw spiritual essence.
Disciples in robes of varying colors moved in waves—some meditating, some dueling, others simply breathing the sacred air of cultivation. All of them turned to stare as Lin Xun passed.
A youth in black and red robes stepped forward, smirking with arrogance.
> "New blood? You look like you crawled out of a beast's gut."
Lin Xun didn't stop walking.
> "I did."
The boy's smile faltered.
Another disciple leaned in, whispering, "He came through the outer ridge alone. Without a guide."
Murmurs spread. The outer ridge was filled with savage spirit beasts and spatial fissures. Only madmen—or monsters—survived it alone.
A robed elder, gray-bearded and hawk-eyed, floated down from a tall spire.
> "You're the one with the dual-element core?"
Lin Xun bowed. "Yes, Elder."
The man's gaze was sharp, weighing him, stripping him down to essence.
> "Interesting. Dangerous. The Skyrect Sect welcomes all who walk the path of strength. But you must prove your worth."
He gestured toward the training ground.
> "Duel the core disciples. Survive for five moves. Earn your place."
Lin Xun nodded. "Understood."
---
A circle was formed. Disciples gathered in waves, eager to watch.
From the crowd stepped a youth named Zhao Wei—tall, with fire qi thick in his aura. A peak-stage Foundation Realm disciple. His fame echoed through the sect.
> "Don't blame me for breaking you," Zhao Wei said. "It's tradition."
Lin Xun exhaled slowly. Fire swirled in his left palm. Frost curled from his right.
> "I'll break tradition, then."
The elder raised a hand. "Begin!"
Zhao Wei struck like lightning, his palm coated in flaming golden qi. Lin Xun didn't dodge. He stepped into it.
> BOOM!
Fire clashed with fire—but Lin Xun's had depth. Cold exploded behind it, dampening Zhao Wei's attack mid-air. The flames hissed and died. Lin Xun's fist smashed into Zhao's chest like a boulder.
> Crack!
Zhao flew backward, coughing blood. Gasps rippled.
The second move—Zhao returned with a blade of searing qi. Lin Xun raised a frost wall with a snap of his fingers, the ice singing as it absorbed the strike and turned to steam.
The third—Lin Xun moved, tracing a strange arc with his hand. A crimson sigil lit the air, and his palm exploded forward with condensed elemental fusion.
Zhao crumpled.
The field went silent.
Lin Xun stood, chest heaving, but unbowed.
> "That was three," he said.
---
Later that night, he sat alone under a tree carved with old names, his hands bandaged, his ring still pulsing faintly.
The Skyrect Sect had given him a room in the lower disciple quarters. Simple, but stable. For now.
He closed his eyes, thinking of the duel, the flames, the frost, the roar in his bloodline. But his thoughts strayed to something deeper—something stirring beneath the surface of the Skyrect Sect.
That night, a dream came to him.
A mountain of swords. A girl with eyes like stars. A storm swallowing the heavens. And a voice, ancient and cruel:
> "Son of the Emberblood Flame… You cannot hide forever."
---
Days passed.
He began training in the Ember Lotus Courtyard, a place known for elemental tempering. There, he met her.
Lian Yue.
She stood under a willow tree, her robes white as snow, her presence sharp as an unsheathed blade.
She looked at him once—and turned away.
But that one glance told Lin Xun everything.
She wasn't from the Skyrect Sect.
She was above it.
---
One evening, as he practiced the fusion of his elements, she approached.
> "Your balance is unstable," she said coldly. "You'll explode if you continue that path."
Lin Xun arched a brow. "Then I'll explode upward."
She didn't smile. But her lips moved slightly—almost a twitch.
> "Your fire core burns like an ancient ember. Where did you get it?"
He hesitated. "From my mother."
Her eyes narrowed.
> "You carry the blood of the old flame."
Lin Xun stiffened. "You know of it?"
She said nothing. Just turned and left.
But in her silence, Lin Xun heard warning… and curiosity.
---
That night, the scroll under his pillow burned softly.
He unrolled it—more of his mother's legacy written in flickering runes.
> "They will come. The enemies of the flame. The hunters of the frost. When your power awakens, the sky will mark your name—and they will seek to erase it."
> "Trust no sect completely. Not even Skyrect."
His heart pounded.
Outside, wind howled
.
He stepped into the darkness, eyes blazing with determination.
He had found shelter.
But peace?
Peace was an illusion.
And he would rise, not because of safety—but in spite of it.
---