The forest still smoldered by the time Chutian returned to Liuwu Town.
Smoke clung to his hair, his clothes torn and singed, but his eyes burned bright—steady, awake.
He had killed men today.
Not in a dream. Not by accident. Three lives, swallowed by his fire.
As he crossed the narrow bridge into the marketplace, villagers froze mid‑stride. The smell of scorched wood followed him like a shadow. A child whispered, "That's him… the one who burned the monsters."
But the curiosity in their eyes turned quickly to fear.
People stepped aside, muttering prayers as he passed.
Su Lingzhi kept close behind him.
"Ah‑Tian, don't mind them. They don't understand."
Her voice was soft, but her hands trembled. She had seen what his Yang fire could do; a heartbeat of power, and a man vanished into smoke.
"I don't blame them," Chutian said quietly.
"What they saw wasn't mercy. It was fire that doesn't stop until something dies."
They reached the threshold of the old clinic. Inside, the herbal scent was comforting—human. He sat down heavily on the worn bench; his arms ached as if the flames had burned from the inside out.
Su Lingzhi cleaned the soot from his skin in silence. When she finally spoke, her tone carried a worry she couldn't hide.
"That power… it's not normal. If the sects hear about it, they'll come for you."
He lifted his gaze. "Let them."
For a fleeting moment, his eyes shimmered with defiance instead of fear.
"I've spent half my life waiting to die. If they want what's mine, they'll have to burn with me."
She wanted to protest—but the walls shook with a distant tremor before she could speak. Heavy footsteps echoed down the street.
"Open up! Blood Serpent Cult business!"
The door burst open. Six figures stormed inside, armored in black iron, faces tattooed with the same serpentine emblem. The leader's gaze locked instantly on Chutian.
"So it was you. My brother's ashes are still hot, and here you sit in a healer's hut."
Chutian rose slowly. The air thickened, heat gathering around him like breathing smoke. Su Lingzhi stepped back, eyes wide.
"I didn't start this," he said evenly. "But I'll finish it."
Steel flashed. The cultist lunged.
Chutian's heartbeat thundered once—just once—and the world ignited.
The blast blew out the windows. Flames danced across the walls, devouring shadows. When the fire died moments later, the hut stood half‑ruined, the men reduced to smoking armor and dust.
Only a hush remained.
Su Lingzhi knelt among the debris, staring at him as if she half‑didn't recognize him.
"Ah‑Tian… how long can you keep fighting like this?"
He looked down at his trembling hands, firelight still tracing his veins.
"As long as it takes," he murmured. "Until I control it… or it consumes me."
Outside, villagers watched in silence as he stepped into the rain, letting the water hiss against his skin.
Somewhere in the distance, a messenger from Cloud Cang Sect was already on the road, drawn by the rumors of a nameless youth blazing like a sun.