The Blackspire Mountains were merciless.
Their jagged peaks pierced the sky like ancient fangs, shrouded in a constant storm of ash and wind. Unlike the Veiled Mountains, there was no beauty here—only harsh survival and bones buried beneath black snow. It was said that once, in the age of the Immortal Kings, these mountains had burned with divine fire during the War of Heavens. The echoes still lingered in the stone.
Perfect for a new sect to rise.
Mei Lian stood before the crumbling remains of an ancient temple built into the cliffside. Its walls were cracked, choked with vines, and its guardian statues—foxes, dragons, and lotus-eyed beasts—were half-buried in rubble.
"This is it?" she asked, skeptical.
Shen Liuxian nodded. "The Temple of Falling Embers. Forgotten by most. But its roots still drink power."
They stepped through the shattered gate. The air inside the temple shimmered—an invisible pressure pressing against their skin, as if time itself hadn't let go of this place.
At the center stood the Moonfire Tree.
It was unlike anything Mei Lian had seen—a massive, silver-barked tree growing from a jagged pit in the stone, its branches lit with slow-burning, blue-white flames that didn't consume. The ground around it was scorched black, but life pulsed beneath it like a heartbeat.
"The founders of ancient sects came here," Shen said, reverent. "Not to ask for blessings. But to claim their right to exist."
Mei Lian stepped forward. The flames of the Moonfire Tree rippled as she approached, responding to the Crimson Heart in her chest. Her mark glowed faintly in return, like the two forces recognized each other.
Shen drew a curved blade from his back—the one he had never used in battle. He sliced his palm and let the blood fall onto a flat stone before the tree.
"I offer blade and blood," he said, voice echoing. "Not to kneel, but to rise."
Mei Lian followed. She opened a cut across her palm, letting the crimson drops fall beside his. The stone flared. The flames on the tree grew brighter.
"I offer flame and fate," she said. "Not to burn alone, but to forge a world anew."
A gust of wind swept through the temple, and the flames of the Moonfire Tree surged around them—not burning, but enveloping. Mei Lian felt something ancient stir. A presence. Not a god… but a witness.
Crimson Sect.
The name bloomed in her mind—not chosen, but revealed.
As the fire subsided, a sigil appeared in the air above them: a twin flame entwined with a sword and a falling lotus. It hovered for a breath, then branded itself into the sky beyond the temple.
Far below in the valleys, cultivators looked up and trembled.
A new force had declared itself.
And the world would never be the same.
Shen turned to Mei Lian, a rare fire in his eyes. "Now they'll come."
She nodded, her voice steady. "Let them."