The chamber was silent, save for the roar of the lotus flame.
Jalen stepped forward, each movement deliberate, his breath shallow. The Flaming Lotus pulsed with divine flame essence, its petals unfurling like the wings of a celestial phoenix. But beauty was a mask—it was wrath incarnate. The moment his foot crossed the threshold, the lotus struck.
His soul, already battered from the Sky Limit Realm palm strikes, buckled under the assault. It wasn't just pain—it was rejection. The lotus flame didn't welcome him; it sought to burn him away, to erase his existence from the tapestry of cultivation.
His clothes disintegrated instantly, reduced to ash in the blink of an eye. His hair and flesh followed, vanishing in a gust of heat. His dantian ignited like a newborn sun, radiating unstable qi in every direction. The pain was worse than the Blue Flame Pond trial in the Mystic Ground—a torment that had nearly killed him. But this was deeper. It shredded his throat as he screamed, his voice lost to the inferno, and his body convulsed under the dominance of fire.
His vision blurred. Memories flickered—his father, Jaquan; his stepmother; his three baby brothers. Lloyd, his adopted brother. Jael, also adopted, whom he missed dearly. And Nate—Nate, especially—whose safety gnawed at him, threatened by the grip of their wretched clan.
Then there was Rana. He didn't know what she truly was to him, only that the centuries spent in the Shadow Realm—a sub-realm once hidden within the Rage Forest—had etched her presence into him. She was one of the many shadow clones he had created to keep himself sane through that long stretch of isolation. Honestly, he missed her. Missed training her. It wasn't romance, but it wasn't nothing.
The flame didn't just burn his body—it tested his identity, his purpose. Was he worthy of the lotus? Or merely another soul to be consumed?
But amidst the chaos, a stabilizing force emerged.
The fragment of the Flaming Dragon Beast Core that made up twenty percent of his primary core—flared to life. Its ancient energy surged through his meridians, weaving a protective net around his soul. The Origin Shard responded in kind, devouring the lotus's essence with ravenous hunger. It refined the divine flame into pure qi, feeding it into Jalen's core.
The other elements—Light, Shadow, Wind, and Ice—raged in protest, destabilized by the overwhelming flame. His spirit sea fractured, each element clawing for dominance. But the combined effort of the Origin Shard and his second spirit core suppressed them. Slowly, painfully, only Flame Qi remained.
The process lasted five days.
Each hour was a war. His spirit sea boiled. His bones cracked and reformed. His soul hovered on the edge of annihilation. At times, he hallucinated. He saw himself burning, reborn, burning again. The cycle was endless.
But he endured.
And when the final petal of the lotus dissolved into his primary core, Jalen emerged transformed.
His cultivation now hovered near the Peak Immortal Realm. His body, though scorched and trembling, radiated power. He activated Light Art's eighth technique, Light Bell, restoring his form to its usual handsome state—skin smooth, hair regrown, eyes blazing with newfound depth. He retrieved clothing from his pocket realm and dressed before exiting the chamber.
The flaming hands that had once guarded the chamber no longer attacked. Instead, their technique—ancient and profound—entered his spirit sea, now forged in flame. He had earned their respect, or perhaps their legacy.
Minutes later, he exited the sub-realm.
But the palace was gone.
Where once stood a monolith of obsidian and gold, now lay ruins—charred stone, shattered pillars, and scorched earth. The air pulsed with residual energy, chaotic and wild. Yet amidst the destruction, the white flame touched with gold stood out.
His heart clenched.
Rana.
Rana had entered the Scorch Realm nearly two weeks ago. And from the moment she stepped into its borders, the realm tested her day and night. When she's not dealing with spirit beasts trying to devour her, it's cultivators from top sects trying to subjugate her, some driven by lust, others by greed. She fought them all—her rare type of Flaming Physique granting her affinity and resilience—but the toll was heavy.
Eventually, she reached the flaming river two days before Jalen completed his refinement. And unlike him, she faced no resistance crossing it. The formations had already been shattered by Jalen leaving the path to the palace open, and many cultivators followed it.
When she got to the palace, it was the same as when Jalen got there. Dozens of cultivators fought for dominance, each seeking the flame beast crown. But unlike them, Rana was searching blindly. Guided by her spirit flame, she was the second after Jalen to locate the relic.
But what she didn't know was that some strong cultivators at the Imperial Realm and Peak Moon Realm with malicious intent were following her secretly. Unfortunately for them, the moment her fingers touched the flaming beast crown, a surge of power coursed through her—recognizing her physique—and it bonded with her essence.
But peace was fleeting.
Those who were following her now have just realized that Rana had actually found the treasure they were all here for. And lustful eyes transformed into greed towards her. The battle erupted instantly.
Rana fought with elegance and fury. Her Spirit Flame Art techniques danced across the battlefield—waves of white-gold fire. She injured several in the peak moon realm like her. But she was outnumbered. Qi drained rapidly as she struggled against the stronger enemies, the imperial realm cultivators. Her body bled from cuts and burns she barely managed to avoid from enemy attacks. Her spirit sea trembled.
Cornered, she activated her most explosive technique: Nuclear, the tenth technique of the Spirit Fire Art.
The explosion was cataclysmic.
Flame erupted in all directions, tearing through the palace walls, collapsing ceilings, and sending cultivators flying. The palace crumbled, trapping many inside. Screams echoed. Dust and flame filled the air.
Rana tried to escape, flying toward the bridge—but she was intercepted.
The group of Imperial Realm and peak Moon Realm cultivators who were survivors of her attack blocked her path. Many joined them after finding out the source of the deadly explosion just now that caused them to lose fellow sect members and families. Their eyes burned with rage. One, a brute from the Crimson Vale Sect, stepped forward.
"You'll pay for what you did," he snarled. "First, I'll ravish you. Then I'll take your life."
Rana's body trembled—not from fear, but from exhaustion. Her qi reserves were nearly empty. Her spirit flame flickered weakly. She prepared to fight, knowing she wouldn't win.
Then—
A flash of light.
The brute's arm was severed cleanly from his shoulder the second he got within range of her.
Blood sprayed. He screamed.
Everyone turned to the figure in white, luminal edge out, eyes cold.