"War is not born of hatred. It is born of conviction strong enough to destroy what it loves."
— The Crimson Path Codex, Verse of the Ninth Spear
🔥 The Marshal's Entrance
The crimson gate split open, and a gust of blistering wind swept across the arena.
From its depths marched the Blood-Spear Marshal, clad in dragonbone armor lacquered in blood-red lacquer, every step leaving streaks of embered light on the cracked ground.
He was not a man in appearance but a presence—part mortal, part weapon, forged through ten thousand battles and unbroken vows.
In his right hand, he held the Dragonfang Spear, its shaft carved from the spine of a slain wyrm; in his left, he carried nothing but an open palm that pulsed with qi so dense the air shivered.
The sky above wept fire.
"You have faced patience, endurance, balance, and remembrance," said the Marshal, his voice like iron striking iron. "Now face conviction.
The Trial of War begins."
⚔ The First Exchange
Without warning, the Marshal's spear thrust forward—a blur of red light so fast the air screamed. Jin barely raised the Leviathan Blade in time, sparks bursting as water met blood.
Each impact was thunder; each step Jin took backward left a crater in the arena floor.
The Leviathan Blade sang, its song a rushing tide struggling to contain a hurricane of flame.
Jin twisted, parried, and countered, but the Marshal's strikes came in storms—relentless, perfectly measured, no wasted movement.
"You fight to survive," the Marshal said, his eyes narrowing. "That is not enough."
💢 The Crimson Path Unleashed
The Marshal spun the spear in a blur, tracing runes in midair with each movement. Those runes ignited, forming a circle of burning war spirits around him. Each spirit bore the visage of a soldier Jin had once seen in his past lives—men and women who had fought under his forgotten command.
They raised phantom weapons and charged.
Jin hesitated for a heartbeat. He could feel their memories, their loyalty, their deaths.
The hesitation cost him—one phantom blade grazed his shoulder, burning deep into flesh and spirit alike.
Blood hissed into steam.
He roared and flooded the arena with water qi, dousing the ghosts temporarily—but they reformed instantly, drawn from the Marshal's aura.
🧠 Jin's Resolve
"You do not understand," said the Marshal, his spear's tip inches from Jin's chest. "War is not the killing of others—it is the killing of the hesitation within yourself."
Jin's eyes widened.
He stepped forward into the strike instead of away, the spear grazing his side but missing his heart.
He raised the Leviathan Blade and channeled both flame and tide through it, creating a whirlpool of burning mist around him.
"Then let this be my conviction," Jin growled. "To never run from the oaths I once broke."
The Leviathan Blade split into five spectral copies—each one representing the Seals he had earned.
Together, they struck like converging tides.
The Marshal blocked three, parried the fourth—but the fifth struck true, cleaving through the flame-spirits and cracking his armor.
🐉 The Seventh Seal
The Blood-Spear Marshal laughed, stepping back, spear tip digging into the floor. His blood fell to the arena and burned into the shape of a rune.
"You did not seek victory. You sought truth. That is the only victory that matters."
He drove his spear into the ground. It shattered into light that wrapped around Jin's arm, etching the Seventh Seal of Awakening into his flesh—a mark resembling a spearhead within a dragon's eye.
All seven runes now blazed upon the arena floor.
The dome above fractured completely.
The dragons roared—not as echoes, but as presences.
🐲 The Awakening of the Seven
Thunder split the sky.
The arena shook as the runes rose, merging into a vast sigil that bridged heaven and earth.
Each of the seven elemental dragons—Storm, Stone, Flame, Tide, Shadow, Frost, and War—spiraled around Jin, their roars harmonizing into a single, deafening call.
"The Accord is reborn. The Hollow Flame reclaims his Oath."
The sky itself bent, and the world trembled.
The Leviathan Blade burned with draconic fire, the sound of ancient tongues echoing within its steel.
🌌 End of the Gathering
When the light finally dimmed, Jin stood alone in the cracked remains of the arena.
The dragons were gone—but their presence lingered in the seven Seals glowing along his body.
Lin Xue, Ash-Eye, Su Ren, and the others rushed forward, their expressions caught between awe and fear.
"He… he actually did it," Lin Xue whispered.
Ash-Eye smirked. "Yeah. And now every realm in the Hollow Realms will know his name."
Overhead, the heavens wept flame and rain together.