The night in the Phoenix Capital was supposed to be serene—a sky painted in crimson dusk, the air heavy with the scent of blooming fire lotus. Yet tonight, the city breathed like a furnace. The streets were unnaturally warm, as though the heart of the Empire's volcano was pulsing beneath every stone.
From the balcony of the Vermillion Palace, Liu Shen looked down at the restless capital. The people's chatter was filled with uncertainty; whispers of riots in the outer districts had already reached the court.
"They're accelerating it," Liu Shen murmured to himself.
Yu Meixing stepped up beside him, her eyes reflecting the glow of the city lights. "The Phoenix Bloodline… it's stirring. The imperial line is waking something older than the throne itself."
Liu Shen's gaze turned toward the grand palace gates where the Phoenix Guard stood in ceremonial armor—yet beneath the pageantry, their hands gripped weapons too tightly. "Older… and also hungrier."
Lei Qing entered, bowing briefly. "Sovereign, our scouts in the lower city report strange happenings. Citizens found with burns… on the inside. No sign of fire outside their bodies."
Liu Shen's fingers tightened on the railing. Inner flame incineration… that's no mortal phenomenon.
---
Later, deep in the Vermillion Palace archives, Liu Shen brushed his hand over a half-burnt scroll. The seal of the Phoenix Clan crumbled under his touch, revealing ancient ink faded by centuries.
The Flame-Binding Rite —a ritual forbidden even within the royal bloodline. It spoke of merging the heart's core with the Primordial Flame sleeping beneath the capital's volcano. A dangerous gamble—granting near-immortality to the wielder, but at the cost of burning the empire from within if the ritual failed.
"So," Liu Shen muttered, "the Emperor has grown desperate enough to court the same power that destroyed the First Phoenix Dynasty."
Yu Meixing's brow furrowed. "If he succeeds, the Phoenix Empire will gain enough strength to challenge the heavens themselves. But if he fails…"
"…the city will become a pyre," Liu Shen finished.
---
That night, Liu Shen left the palace under the guise of a shadow, descending into the city's volcanic underbelly. The heat here was different—alive, breathing in sync with his own heart. The stone walls glowed faintly, veins of molten fire snaking through them like arteries.
In the deepest chamber, he found it—an altar of obsidian, surrounded by twelve phoenix statues, each one cracked, their eyes glowing with inner embers.
The ground shuddered. A deep, resonant voice rippled through the air:
"You have returned, Demon Sovereign… after all these ages."
Liu Shen's steps halted. "You've mistaken me for my past self? Or perhaps… you remember me too well."
From the altar, a flame erupted, taking the shape of a colossal, spectral phoenix. Its eyes burned with intelligence and malice.
"We remember. And we have not forgiven."
The flames surged, encircling him, and Liu Shen's shadow flared with demonic power in response.
---
In that instant, two ancient forces—one of endless flame and one of abyssal darkness—clashed beneath the throne of the Phoenix Empire.
Above, in the palace, the Emperor stirred from meditation, a faint smile on his lips.
"The Sovereign has walked into the fire willingly," he whispered. "Good. Let the flames test him."
The city trembled as the first sparks of a hidden war ignited beneath its streets.