The scent of smouldering ash still lingered over the Black Flame garrison as Kael stood alone inside the war room. A large map of the Eastern Territory sprawled across the stone table before him, painted with fresh ink markings denoting troop movement, supplies, and fortifications. The red markers showed their new holdings, but the blue ones beyond the Ember Ravine spoke of growing threats.
Kael's cloak shifted as he leaned over the map, shadows flickering in the firelight. His brow was furrowed, eyes sharp with calculation.
Behind him, the doors creaked open. General Rellen entered, saluted with a clenched fist across his chest, and waited silently.
"Speak," Kael said, not looking up.
"The scouts returned from the Wyrmspine Pass. They found something… strange."
Kael finally raised his head. "Strange how?"
"They found signs of tunneling. Deep underground passageways, hidden behind collapsed rock. No marks of mining tools or spiritual drills. The walls looked… melted."
"Melted?" Kael frowned. "That would require fire techniques at the peak of the Spiritual General stage, at least."
Rellen nodded. "Or a beast."
Kael's eyes narrowed.
Moments later, he stood at the edge of the Ember Ravine, where smoke still rose from the battlefield. The jagged cliffs below stretched for miles, with dark caverns visible far beneath. Dalia waited there, her arms crossed, beside two captured prisoners who knelt bound in spirit chains.
"Commander," she said, nodding toward the prisoners. "These two were part of a unit that refused to flee. They surrendered without a fight."
Kael knelt in front of the first—a gaunt man with a pale scar running from temple to jaw. His robes were bloodstained and marked with the sigil of the Western Dominion.
"You surrendered. That means you want to live," Kael said plainly. "So speak. Why was your garrison tunneling beneath the pass?"
The man looked up with a mix of fear and defiance. "We weren't digging. We were ordered to guard the entrance."
"Entrance to what?"
The man hesitated.
Kael's palm ignited with soft red flames, his fire Qi swirling dangerously close to the prisoner's neck.
"Don't make me ask again."
The prisoner cracked. "It wasn't us! It was the Deepborn!"
Kael blinked. "The Deepborn? You mean… the sleeping tribe?"
The prisoner nodded frantically. "We didn't know they were real. But weeks ago, our commanders told us to guard the tunnels. Something was moving below. Huge, silent, and fast."
Kael stood slowly. "You're saying the Deepborn are stirring again?"
The second prisoner, younger and trembling, added, "They live under the Wyrmspine. They've been silent for hundreds of years, but now… now they whisper through the earth."
Kael looked to Rellen and Dalia. "Double our scouts around the Ravine. I want every movement tracked. If the Deepborn are waking, we'll need to act before the Western Dominion allies with them."
He turned back to the prisoners. "Take them to the holding cells. Treat them fairly. They may be more useful yet."
As Dalia and the guards led the captives away, Rellen asked, "Do you really think the Deepborn will rise again?"
Kael's voice was low. "If they do, they'll bring fire from beneath the mountains. And I intend to meet it with fire of my own."
---
Far beneath the mountains, in a chamber so vast it could swallow a city, the glow of molten rivers danced across crystalline walls. Beasts with obsidian hides and glowing eyes crawled between jagged rocks. At the centre stood a throne of black glass, upon which sat a towering humanoid figure—twice the height of any man—with silver veins running under its translucent skin.
Its eyes opened, reflecting red flame.
"The seal is weakening," it said in a voice like crumbling stone.
A robed figure approached and knelt. Its face was hidden beneath a golden mask etched with runes.
"The cultivators above have awakened something ancient. Shall we prepare for war?"
The creature—one of the Deepborn Elders—lifted its hand. Flame erupted from its palm, not red or gold, but deep violet.
"Yes," it said. "Let them burn."
Back in the Black Flame Fortress, the training grounds echoed with the sharp crackle of Qi techniques as soldiers honed their skills. Sparks lit the air as two Spiritual Warriors exchanged blows under the supervision of Captain Mirella.
A group of younger recruits stood near the edge, their eyes wide as they watched a duel unfold between two elite cultivators. One used twin sabres wreathed in lightning, while the other wielded a long spear coated in frost.
Their clash illuminated the night with bursts of elemental power.
"That's enough!" Mirella's voice rang out.
The fighters ceased immediately, panting and bruised.
"We're at war, not in a contest of egos," she said sternly. "You must conserve energy, predict movement, and break the opponent's rhythm. If your technique leaves you vulnerable for even a second, you're already dead."
One recruit raised his hand. "Captain, will Commander Kael be joining us for tomorrow's exercise?"
Mirella nodded. "He will. And if you're not ready, he'll send you back to the mines. Or worse—he'll put you in the scouts."
The group collectively flinched. Everyone knew the scouts were the first to die.
---
Later that night, Kael stood atop the walls of the fortress, looking toward the horizon. A cool breeze rolled over the hills, carrying the scent of pine and wet stone.
Dalia joined him, her long cloak fluttering in the wind.
"We received a report from the northern watchtower," she said. "Beast activity is increasing near the Ashen Groves. Something's driving them south."
Kael didn't look at her. "It's the Deepborn."
"You're sure?"
"They've begun shifting the spiritual balance beneath the surface. Even the wild beasts can feel it. If we wait too long, the smaller kingdoms between us and the Wyrmspine will fall first—and then it'll be our turn."
Dalia was silent for a moment. "What are you planning?"
Kael finally turned to her, his eyes blazing. "I'm planning to strike first."
---
Far away, in the Duchy of Eldervale, a council of high nobles met inside the Hall of Flames. Tall pillars lined with crimson banners loomed over the stone table where dukes and duchesses sat.
At the head of the table, a man with platinum hair and crimson robes stood and raised a hand.
"We received confirmation," Duke Veridan said coldly. "The Black Flame is growing. Their commander—Kael Ardyn—is not only expanding territory, he's rallying rogue sects and city-states."
Murmurs filled the hall.
"If we allow this upstart warlord to continue," the duchess beside him hissed, "he'll become more than a nuisance. He'll become a sovereign."
Veridan's eyes gleamed with malice. "Then we must crush him before he builds an empire."
---
Meanwhile, Kael gathered his core team inside the war council chamber: Rellen, Dalia, Mirella, and the newly arrived sage, Old Fen.
The elderly sage stood beside the glowing projection of the region on the central table, his long beard shimmering with infused spiritual ink.
"There is a spiritual nexus deep beneath the Wyrmspine," Fen explained, pointing to a glowing mark. "It's the very heart of the region's fire Qi. The Deepborn are likely feeding off this nexus to restore their power."
Kael narrowed his eyes. "Can we seal it?"
Fen shook his head. "Not without great cost. To reach it, you'd need to descend thousands of meters underground—through enemy lines, collapsing tunnels, and unstable spiritual currents."
Dalia folded her arms. "So what do we do?"
Kael's voice was firm. "We go in. Before they gain enough strength to erupt from below."
Silence followed. Then Rellen spoke up. "Then let's prepare the strike team. Pick our best."
Kael nodded. "We'll take the fight to the flames beneath."
---
Elsewhere, in a smoky cavern filled with red mist, the Deepborn Elder stood before a giant crystal pulsing with violet light.
He pressed a clawed hand against it, sending vibrations through the earth.
"He is coming," the Elder whispered. "Let him descend. We shall greet him… with fire."