The flames beneath the Phoenix Throne roared like a living beast. Crimson embers licked the obsidian tiles of the great hall, and the air shimmered with an oppressive heat that could melt steel.
Liu Shen stood at the center, his hands clasped behind his back, his gaze locked on the towering figure before him.
Empress Zhao Ying sat upon her throne of molten gold, her eyes calm but her aura a raging inferno. Behind her, the wall of fire twisted, forming images of phoenixes soaring through a crimson sky.
"You came uninvited," Zhao Ying said softly, her voice like a whisper carried by flames. "And you have spilled blood within my domain. Do you know what that means, Liu Shen?"
He smiled faintly. "It means the Phoenix Empire takes offense easily."
Her brows twitched, but she did not rise. "It means you've signed your own death warrant."
The courtiers who lined the hall flinched at her words, some stepping back as the temperature surged. Even the seasoned generals of the Phoenix Guard shifted uneasily, knowing full well the Empress's temper could set the entire hall ablaze in an instant.
Yu Meixing and Lei Qing stood behind Liu Shen, their expressions unreadable. The sect masters who had accompanied them had long since gone silent; in the presence of the Phoenix Empress, even the proudest cultivators measured their words.
Liu Shen took a step forward, each stride echoing across the marble floor. "Death warrants mean nothing to me, Empress. I've already died once."
The flames behind the throne flared violently, casting his shadow long and sharp across the chamber.
"You think yourself beyond consequence?" she asked, rising from her throne. Her crimson robes flowed like molten lava, each fold radiating unbearable heat. "Then let us test your conviction."
A single gesture from her hand, and the Phoenix Throne's fire spilled across the hall like a tidal wave of molten gold.
The heat should have incinerated flesh and bone in an instant—but Liu Shen's body remained untouched. Black mist curled around him, absorbing the flames as though drinking in their fury.
The courtiers gasped.
"What sorcery—?" one whispered.
Liu Shen's voice cut through the roar of the fire. "Your flames are beautiful, Empress, but beauty alone cannot burn me."
Zhao Ying's eyes narrowed. For the first time, the composure in her gaze wavered. "Then you are more dangerous than I thought."
"Danger," Liu Shen replied, "is simply the language of those who fear change. I have no interest in your throne, Empress. But I do have interest in the thing buried beneath it."
Her silence spoke volumes.
Yu Meixing's eyes flickered—she had guessed it as well. The Abyssal heat in this hall wasn't just the Empress's doing. Something ancient stirred beneath the Phoenix Throne.
"And why," Zhao Ying asked slowly, "should I allow you to lay a finger on it?"
Liu Shen's smile sharpened. "Because the heavens will come for it soon. And when they do, your empire will burn to ash—unless I am the one holding the blade."
The chamber fell into tense silence.
In the distance, beyond the palace walls, the cry of a phoenix split the sky.