The journey from Crimson Hollow was heavier than when they had entered it. Though the path was the same—sharp ridges, wind-scoured cliffs, and a sky gray with coming snow—Mei Lian felt different. Heavier. As if the truth she carried now weighed more than the sword on her back.
She walked beside Shen Liuxian in silence. His expression was unreadable, but his posture had changed too—more guarded. More alert.
"Do you believe her?" Mei Lian asked finally. "About me being the second incarnation?"
Shen's voice was quiet. "The flame doesn't lie. But the world might lie about it."
She frowned. "What does that mean?"
"It means you're not doomed to be the same as the first heir," he said. "But you will be hunted like her. Feared. Worshipped. Or worse—used."
Mei Lian's hand instinctively went to the center of her chest, where the mark still pulsed with warmth. "Then what do we do?"
"We forge your own legend," he said. "One stronger than any prophecy."
They reached a ridge overlooking a frozen valley. Below, flags flapped in the wind—black banners bearing the sigil of a serpent coiled around a blade.
Mei Lian tensed. "Who are they?"
"Scorpion Fang Clan," Shen said coldly. "Mercenaries. Cutthroats. And most likely the ones who told the Heavenly Sky Pavilion where to find us."
"They're waiting?"
"No. They're spreading."
Indeed, Mei Lian now saw that the valley was no camp—it was an outpost. With supply wagons, captured spirit beasts, and masked cultivators training in groups. A force, not a hunting party.
"They're preparing for war," she murmured.
Shen nodded. "The Pavilion wants the Crimson Heart controlled—or destroyed. They've begun recruiting sects loyal to them."
"Then we stop them."
"It's not that simple."
"Then make it simple," she said, voice tightening. "Because if we run forever, they win."
Shen turned to her. "There's one way. But it's dangerous."
"I'm listening."
"There's a hidden temple in the Blackspire Mountains," he said. "Where ancient cultivators once made blood oaths under the Moonfire Tree. If we swear an oath there—together—it will bind not only our lives, but our fates."
"To what end?"
"To declare ourselves as a sovereign force. A sect of our own. One bound by flame and vow. No one will be able to claim you—not by prophecy or bloodline."
"A sect… of two?"
He smirked slightly. "For now. But fire spreads. And we won't be the only ones who refuse to kneel."
Mei Lian stared down at the valley of enemies below. Then she looked at him.
"Let's do it," she said. "Let's forge our own path."
That night, beneath a canopy of stars veiled in drifting snow, they drew a sigil in blood across their wrists, pressing them together. The pact flared crimson and gold, rising in a spiral of flame.
Shen's voice echoed with power: "From this day forth, we walk as one. Blade to blade. Flame to flame."
Mei Lian spoke after, her voice steady. "And any who seek to chain us… will face the fire we become."
The vow sealed.
And far away, in the towers of the Heavenly Sky Pavilion, a whisper stirred through their divination mirrors:
"The Crimson Sect is born."