The spirit beast growled low, a sound like gravel grinding beneath a mountain.
Its glowing green eyes locked on Kahel. Muscles coiled beneath thick fur. Venom dripped from fangs longer than his fingers. The panther-like creature crouched, ready to pounce.
Kahel didn't move.
The girl behind him stirred. "Leave. Now. It's a Steelspike Dreadcat. You'll die."
Kahel said nothing. The warmth in his chest built with every breath — rising, pressing against his ribs like a tide behind a dam.
His legs trembled, not from fear, but anticipation.
The beast lunged.
Kahel reacted instinctively, sidestepping and drawing the scroll from his belt in a sweeping arc. It wasn't a weapon, but he had nothing else. The beast's claws slashed past him, tearing bark from a nearby tree.
Kahel dropped low, swept a leg forward, and managed to send the beast skidding slightly — more from surprise than power.
The girl tried to rise, blood trailing down her arm, but the pain slammed her back into the roots.
The beast turned again.
Kahel exhaled.
The warmth surged.
And for the first time, the ashen flame answered not by flickering — but by igniting.
A pale, gray fire licked across his right arm. It did not burn. Instead, it felt… alive. Eager. Cold and hot at once.
The beast hesitated.
Kahel didn't.
He rushed forward, palm glowing with the flame. He struck the creature's flank, and where his hand landed, the fire bit deep. The Dreadcat howled, smoke curling from its side as the flame clung like sap.
It staggered back, swiping wildly.
One claw caught Kahel's shoulder. Pain flashed, and blood spilled down his arm — but he didn't fall. He twisted, ducked another strike, and struck again.
This time, both hands.
The ashen flame flared brighter, spreading from his fingers like frost made of fire.
The beast shrieked and collapsed, twitching violently before bolting into the underbrush, vanishing into the trees.
Kahel stood panting, blood soaking his sleeve, the flame slowly withdrawing into his skin.
Silence.
Then, a soft voice behind him.
"You're not from around here, are you?"
Kahel turned. The girl had pulled herself upright, one hand pressed tightly to her wound, but her gaze was steady.
Sharp. Measuring.
He shook his head. "I live in the village nearby."
She frowned. "That's not what I meant."
He stepped toward her and offered a hand.
She hesitated, then took it.
Her skin was cold. Stronger than he expected, but shaking slightly.
"Kahel," he said.
She hesitated again, then replied, "Lyren. Lyren Yue."
The name meant nothing to him — but it would.
He helped her over to a nearby rock and tore a strip from his sleeve to bind her arm.
"You shouldn't have fought that thing," she muttered, watching him work.
"You'd be dead if I didn't."
She scowled, but said nothing. After a moment, she glanced at his shoulder. "That cut's deep."
He shrugged. "It'll heal."
Lyren looked away, uncomfortable.
"You used a flame," she said. "But it wasn't normal qi fire. What was it?"
Kahel paused. "I… don't know. It's always been there, I think. Just recently started waking up."
Her eyes narrowed, but not with suspicion. Curiosity.
"Where did you learn to fight like that?"
"I didn't." He sat down across from her. "It just… happened."
A long silence stretched between them.
The wind rustled overhead. Birds returned to their trees.
Finally, she spoke again.
"I'm part of a sect," she said. "Ethereal Bloom Valley. I was on a solo trial in these woods when that thing found me."
Kahel tilted his head. "Sect?"
She gave him a tired look. "You really are from nowhere."
He smiled slightly. "Pretty much."
She hesitated again. Then: "You saved my life. That means something, even to people like me."
He didn't respond.
"You could come with me," she added. "If you want to learn more about cultivation… my sect has resources. Teachers. Real techniques."
Kahel blinked. "You're offering to take me in?"
"No," she said bluntly. "I'm offering to give you a chance. That's different."
Kahel chuckled, despite himself.
"Alright," he said. "I'll take the chance."
She nodded once.
Then promptly passed out.
Kahel caught her before she fell, easing her gently to the grass. She was burning with fever. The poison must have entered her bloodstream.
He looked around.
He couldn't carry her all the way to her sect. But he knew someone nearby who could help — though he wasn't sure she would.
The old woman.
Kahel stood, lifted Lyren carefully in his arms, and began walking toward the eastern woods.
Far above, hidden in the treetops, the cloaked man from before watched with narrowed eyes.
The Ashen Flame had moved.
And others were beginning to notice.