Jayden sat on the edge of a crumbling rooftop overlooking the ruins of District 4—a forgotten quadrant swallowed by weeds, ash, and graffiti. Once a proud stronghold of a minor martial family, it had long been reduced to whispers and rubble after the "Silent Purge" a decade ago.
But Isla's research had unearthed something startling: the clan that lived here wasn't minor at all. It was one of the Seven Hidden Flames—families tied directly to the ancient Dragon Dynasty.
And the people who wiped them out?
The Crimson Ash Syndicate.
Jayden clenched his fists, veins glowing faintly gold even now. Since absorbing the Flame Core, his chi hadn't quieted. It hummed beneath his skin like a storm barely held at bay.
He wasn't just stronger—he was changing.
But power alone wasn't enough. He needed truth. Clarity. And vengeance.
He leapt down silently from the rooftop, landing in the ruins of what once had been a training hall. Cracked stone pillars still stood like broken teeth. Faded sigils lined the floor—remnants of cultivation arrays.
Jayden closed his eyes and touched the floor.
Chi echoes still lingered. Residual energy from battles, screams, and sorrow. He concentrated and used one of the techniques Master Quill had begun teaching him: Spirit Echo Tracing.
The world faded into grey light, and suddenly—
He saw it.
Flashes.
A young girl, maybe thirteen, swinging a spear in the courtyard. Laughter. Then—
Flames.
Screams.
Men in red masks slaughtering everyone, one by one.
At the center of it all, a figure in black armor, sword in hand. Taller than most, a twisted aura around him. His voice echoed like metal scraping bone:
"The Dragon Blood must be extinguished."
Then, darkness.
Jayden jerked out of the vision, his body slick with sweat, the air heavier than before.
So it was true.
The Forgotten Clan had been Dragon-Blooded. They were his people.
And someone had tried to erase them from existence.
He moved deeper into the ruins, searching. Something called to him—not with sound, but with pressure. A throb in his chest. A pulse in the chi around him.
He followed it to what had once been a temple.
The door had long been broken, vines curling through its frame. Inside, statues of dragon warriors stood shattered, but one altar remained untouched. A single stone lotus sat atop it, glowing faintly.
Jayden approached and knelt.
When his fingers touched the lotus, the room transformed.
The air thickened.
And a voice echoed—not aloud, but within him.
"Blood of the Heir. Why do you disturb the ashes?"
Jayden didn't flinch. "Because I carry them. And I will restore them."
"Will you pay the price?"
He hesitated. "What price?"
"Knowledge."
The lotus bloomed—revealing a jade tablet sealed in a barrier of flame. Jayden reached for it, and the fire leapt to his arm, biting into his skin, searing his mind with images.
Not visions—memories.
Of his father.
Nathaniel Reed.
Once known as Flameblade Nathaniel—last patriarch of the Dragon-Blooded clan in this city. A man who had refused to kneel when the Crimson Ash Syndicate came to "negotiate." He had stood alone, sword in hand, holding off dozens to let his people flee.
He had lost.
But not before sealing away his own cultivation, his knowledge, and the final martial scroll—into a rune hidden beneath this altar.
The jade tablet now floated before Jayden, its surface covered in ancient script.
Jayden's hands trembled as he lifted it. He felt warmth surge through him—not power, but connection. His father's chi lingered here. So did his will.
He hadn't abandoned Jayden.
He had been protecting him.
As Jayden turned to leave, he was not surprised to see three figures blocking the temple's exit.
Crimson Ash assassins.
"You weren't supposed to find this place," one of them sneered.
Jayden stood tall, flames dancing in his palm.
"You shouldn't have killed my clan."
They attacked.
The fight was fast, brutal, and utterly one-sided.
Jayden moved like wind guided by thunder. His chi-enhanced footwork left afterimages. His strikes shattered ribs and weapons alike. He didn't just fight—he hunted.
The last assassin, trembling, tried to flee.
Jayden struck him down with a palm infused with Golden Flame Qi, searing his inner meridians and leaving a brand of the dragon crest on his chest.
"Tell your masters," Jayden said coldly, "the heir lives."
When he emerged from the temple, Isla was waiting near the steps.
"You found it, didn't you?" she asked quietly.
Jayden nodded, holding up the jade tablet. "My father was here."
She looked into his eyes. "You're different again."
Jayden nodded. "I saw him fight. I felt his will."
"Was he… like you?"
Jayden smiled faintly. "He was more. And now I have to surpass him."
Isla stepped forward and laid a hand on his shoulder. "And when you do…?"
Jayden's gaze turned toward the distant skyline where the Syndicate's tower loomed.
"Then I burn their empire to the ground."