The next morning, an undeniable chill permeated the air in Longxiao, colder even than the usual bite of the mountain wind. Whispers, thin and persistent like mist, flowed through the palace: "The Exiled Prince has returned." "The girl bears the Celestial Seal." "Rebellion stirs in the southern provinces…". The tension from General Yue's ultimatum still hung heavy, but a new, more profound unease had settled over the capital.
The trio was summoned to the Temple of the Ancients, a towering structure carved directly into the cliffside, its jade and gold gleaming against the dawn. Within its sacred walls, generations of Dragon Kings had undergone the Trial of Flame. The high priest, a figure of solemn dignity draped in robes of deep crimson and shimmering gold, greeted them with a cautious, almost reverent bow.
"The Dragon Spirits have not spoken in a century," he announced, his voice raspy with age but clear with authority. "But last night, the fire breathed. It summoned a new challenger."
They were led deeper, through the Hall of Echoes, where intricate murals of ancient battles and celestial beings covered every surface, each brushstroke pulsating with faint, forgotten energy. Finally, they reached the Chamber of Flame—a vast, circular room where an enormous, ever-burning dragon-shaped flame coiled gracefully above a central stone dais, casting flickering shadows that danced across the polished floor.
The high priest turned to Mei Lin, his ancient eyes fixed on her. "The flame has summoned you."
"Me?" Mei Lin asked, her voice tight with a mixture of awe and uncertainty. Despite her recent display of power, the enormity of this sacred place pressed down on her.
"The trial does not seek warriors, child of prophecy," he replied, his gaze unwavering. "It seeks truth. It seeks the essence of your spirit."
The Trial BeginsMei Lin stepped forward alone, the weight of their combined hopes settling on her shoulders. The colossal stone doors of the chamber sealed behind her with a resonating, thunderous hum, plunging her into an isolated, fiery realm.
The dragon flame roared to life, expanding with terrifying speed until the entire room dissolved into a swirling vortex of fire and haunting memory. She stood in a dreamlike, corrupted version of her own village, Yunhe—but it was burning, just as Jinshan had.
Shadow-creatures, grotesque and familiar, swarmed the familiar streets, their forms twisting in the heat. Her younger self, a vulnerable phantom, screamed in terror as the suffocating darkness reached for her, its cold touch a stark contrast to the searing heat of the flames.
"You could not save them then," a voice whispered, insidious and bone-chilling, seeming to come from every flickering ember. "And you cannot save what comes now."
A celestial figure, shimmering and ethereal, stepped through the wall of flame. Its face was masked, like the ones in the Celestial Vault, but its voice was sorrowful, echoing with profound weariness. "What makes you worthy, child of prophecy? What makes you believe you can change the tide?"
Mei Lin stood firm, the heat licking at her skin, the spectral horror of her burning village threatening to consume her. Her breath hitched, but her voice, though raw, was steady. "Because I'll never run. Not again. Not from them. Not from anything."
The dragon flame flared, a blinding burst of white-hot light—and then, as suddenly as it had roared, it calmed, shrinking back to its place above the dais.
The vision dissolved. The Chamber of Flame reformed around her, solid and real. The high priest stood watching, his face a mask of awe, his eyes wide and shining with an unspoken reverence.
"The Dragon has accepted you," he breathed, his voice filled with reverence.
"What does that mean?" Mei Lin asked, exhaustion making her head swim, but a new surge of exhilaration making her spirit soar.
"It means the Dragon Kingdom now owes you its allegiance," he declared, his gaze unwavering. "The fire of its spirit runs through you."
Elsewhere… A Dark Council FormsFar away, in the desolate, scarred lands of the Forbidden Wastes, Lord Xian stood before a chilling assembly—a council of twisted, fallen celestials. Their forms were grotesque, their eyes glowing with malevolence.
"She awakens faster than we thought," murmured one, its voice like grinding dust.
"Then we strike now," hissed another, eagerness dripping from its words.
Lord Xian raised a hand, his power palpable, silencing them all. His eyes, twin pools of pure, cold fury, glowed with an ominous light.
"Let her awaken," he commanded, his voice a low, chilling whisper that promised retribution. "The Celestial Seal will draw her to me—a moth to a destructive flame. And when it does, the cycle will break, and I will rise above fate. Above all."
Back in LongxiaoAs Mei Lin stepped out of the Temple of the Ancients, blinking in the early morning light, a magnificent dragon spirit descended from the sky. It was a young, sleek creature with scales of shimmering jade, its form graceful and powerful. It coiled gently beside her, its head bowing in reverence. This was Xun.
"We are bound now," Xun's voice resonated directly in Mei Lin's mind, clear as a mountain spring. "My flame is yours, bearer of balance."
Jin, who had waited anxiously, now bowed his head in deep respect, a rare, profound gesture from the proud warrior. Even General Yue, observing from a high palace balcony, looked down in silence, her veiled face unreadable, but her posture devoid of hostility.
The storm was coming, the air alive with its ominous promise.
And for the first time, with the strength of the Dragon Kingdom and the spirit of Xun now bound to her, Mei Lin felt truly ready to meet it head-on.