The temple groaned as if the stones themselves protested the awakening of an ancient power. Flames roared around Xiulan, lifting him from the cracked floor. His body hovered midair, encased in golden fire that pulsed in rhythm with his heartbeat. Spirit surged through him, breaking past the first meridian lock, awakening a torrent of power he barely controlled.

“Xiulan!” Yanmei screamed, dodging a shower of falling embers.

But Xiulan could not hear her. His mind was consumed, drawn into visions of cultivators long gone—men and women who had once ruled the heavens, speaking in languages only his soul could comprehend. His body twisted in pain and ecstasy, every nerve alight with forbidden power.

A massive shockwave burst from his chest. The roof of the temple shattered, revealing a blood-red moon overhead.

Yanmei dropped to her knees, shielding her face from the searing light. “This isn’t normal… something’s wrong!”

From the shadows of the crumbling temple, a dark figure emerged. His eyes glowed beneath a charred hood, an obsidian blade glinting in his hands. “The Chosen of Fire has awakened too soon,” he growled. “She must be contained.”

Xiulan’s eyes snapped open. The golden flame around him erupted outward, spiraling like a phoenix reborn. “Try me!” he roared.

The figure lunged. Xiulan’s body reacted instinctively, flames curling into a protective shell as the obsidian blade clashed against it, sizzling molten droplets into the air.

Yanmei began chanting, etching sigils into the stone floor with trembling hands. Her qi bolstered Xiulan’s fiery shield—but cracks already formed in the barrier.

“You wield forbidden flame arts,” the man snarled. “That power belongs to the Eternal Sect!”

“I belong to no one!” Xiulan shot back, voice echoing through the burning temple.

The man’s mask split with a grin. “Then die like the rest who dared defy the heavens.”

They fought midair, fire streaking through the temple and beyond, setting the surrounding forest ablaze. Yanmei poured every ounce of her energy into the sigils, overloading herself just to buy Xiulan precious seconds.

But the figure whispered, a subtle incantation, and Xiulan’s flames faltered.

“He’s bending my fire!” Xiulan gasped, flames flickering as the obsidian blade hummed with power.

“Your soul is not ready,” the figure said calmly. “But mine… is.”

He surged forward, a dark storm of power striking toward Xiulan’s throat.

Then—BOOM! A blinding light erupted from Yanmei’s sigils, flooding the temple with pure energy.

Flames twisted, rebounding from Xiulan’s protective shell. The dark figure staggered, a hiss escaping him as the light burned through his defenses. Smoke, sparks, and crimson embers filled the air, the clash of forbidden flame and awakened power shaking the very foundations of the temple.

Xiulan’s heart thundered. His body still quivered from the meridian breakthrough, but he realized something crucial: the fire inside him was alive—and it was choosing him.

The battle had only just begun.