The next morning, the mist had burned away, revealing the jagged cliffs of the Blackstone Peaks. Kael limped slightly—more out of habit than injury—and squinted at the horizon. Somewhere out there, his destiny waited. Or at least, trouble did.
Lyra walked beside him, silent this time, though her presence was no less sharp, like a blade pressed against his shoulder. Kael tried to ignore the flutter in his chest, failing spectacularly.
"Where exactly are we going again?" he asked, his voice casual, though his stomach was doing gymnastics.
"To the Ascendant Sect," Lyra replied, eyes scanning the rocky landscape. "It's where cultivators of potential—like you—come to awaken true power. And, if you survive, maybe even learn to control it."
Kael snorted. "Control. Sure. I barely survived last night's barbecue. But yeah, control sounds easy."
Lyra shot him a look sharp enough to draw blood. "Stop talking."
"See?" Kael whispered, grinning despite himself. "Already following orders. You must be impressed."
Their path wound through narrow cliffs and treacherous bridges. Every step was a gamble—one misstep, and the clouds below would claim them. Kael's senses tingled; the air itself thrummed with latent energy.
"Here we are," Lyra said, stopping before a massive stone gate carved with runes that pulsed faintly with silver light. "The Ascendant Sect. Welcome to the fire pit of ambition."
Kael's eyes widened. The courtyard beyond the gate was enormous, filled with cultivators sparring, meditating, or simply radiating raw, dangerous power. A low hum of energy vibrated in his bones.
"Okay…maybe control is slightly harder than I thought," Kael muttered.
Before he could dwell on it, a booming voice cut through the hum. "Newcomer! Step forward!"
Kael stepped out of instinct, only to find himself face-to-face with a towering, scarred cultivator. His eyes glowed like molten iron.
"You seek power," the man said, voice deep enough to rattle stones. "Power has a price. Can you pay it, boy?"
Kael swallowed, trying to look braver than he felt. "Depends…is the price, like, soul-crushing agony, or more like stubbed toes?"
The scarred man didn't laugh. Lyra, however, suppressed a grin. "Don't test him," she muttered.
"You'll learn soon enough," the man said. "Begin your trial. Survive the Flames of Ambition, or never taste true power."
Kael was hurled into a pit of fire—not ordinary fire, but flames that burned both body and soul, laced with ancient Qi that screamed as it scorched. His limbs burned, and visions of his destroyed clan flashed before his eyes.
"Ah…this is my life now," Kael muttered, grimacing as he dodged a fire serpent wreathed in black flames. "I hate this already."
Lyra appeared beside him, blades gleaming. "Focus, Kael. Don't waste your breath. Fight or die."
Kael grinned through the pain. "Fine, but can we at least make it entertaining?"
Together, they danced through fire and fury, Kael's raw, chaotic strength complemented by Lyra's precise elegance. But Kael noticed something unsettling—Lyra's eyes occasionally flickered with something unreadable. Concern? Fear? Or…a secret she wasn't sharing.
When the flames finally subsided, Kael collapsed to the ground, his body scorched, soul rattled—but alive. He looked up at Lyra, who extended a hand.
"You did well," she said softly, almost too softly. "Better than I expected."
Kael's heart skipped. "That…means a lot coming from you."
She pulled her hand back, masking any emotion. "Don't get used to it. You're still a beginner. And beginnings…are dangerous."
Kael chuckled weakly. "Dangerous is my middle name."
Lyra's lips twitched, as if she almost smiled. "We'll see about that."
Above them, dark clouds gathered. The Ascendant Sect's trials had only begun—and secrets, ambitions, and betrayals waited in the shadows, ready to strike.