The morning air wrapped the mountains in a cold mist, dew clinging to every leaf. The small cave where Li Yun and Zhiya had rested now stood empty. The campfire had died, leaving only cold, black ashes, and a faint scent of burnt wood lingered in the air.
In the distance, the silhouettes of two figures climbed a hill, their steps steady and calm.
"Are you sure you want to leave that place now?" Zhiya asked, glancing sideways at Li Yun.
Li Yun nodded slowly. "I've received the inheritance. Staying any longer would only stir up trouble."
Zhiya inhaled deeply. "And about that girl… Lian Xue?"
Li Yun paused, then shook his head gently. "She's not an enemy. But she's not an ally either. She's just someone who—for now—has chosen to wait."
Zhiya studied his face for a moment. On Li Yun's expression, she saw a calmness she had never seen before. He was no longer the hesitant youth he once was, but someone who had begun to forge his footing.
After two days of travel, they arrived at a secluded valley. The place was known as the Flameguard Valley, a remote location that had once belonged to the Red Sky Clan's domain, now lost to history.
Ruins of an old temple, cracked statues of flame dragons, and broken monuments stood silently—waiting, it seemed, for their legacy to be reclaimed.
Li Yun stood in the center of the valley, fingers closing around the deep red pendant that hung around his neck.
"This place… was once the training ground of the Flame Guardians."
Zhiya looked around, then stepped toward a half-buried altar stone. On its surface, ancient symbols faintly glowed.
"It's a kind of energy-gathering formation," she murmured.
Li Yun stepped closer and placed the pendant onto the center of the altar. Instantly, red energy surged upward, forming a pillar of light that shot into the sky. The ground trembled, and the ruins around them began to glow—like they were awakening from a long slumber.
Meanwhile, far across the continent, inside an icy pavilion hanging off a cliff, Lian Xue stood before a massive crystal mirror. From within its depths, a fog-shrouded figure of an old woman appeared.
"You truly met the Red Sky heir?" the old voice asked.
Lian Xue bowed her head respectfully. "Yes, Master. But he is not what we expected."
"Be cautious," the voice echoed, firm and cold. "The Red Sky Clan is more than just legend. If he truly bears the core flame, many forces will move—some allies, many predators."
Lian Xue nodded softly. "I will keep watch."
Back in the Flameguard Valley, after the altar's activation, the land began to stir. Streams of pure energy flowed like underground rivers, causing the surrounding vegetation to thrive and the air to grow warm.
But the miracle did not last long.
The sky suddenly darkened. A soft, sinister laughter echoed from within a veil of black mist that appeared without warning.
"So it's true… the bloodline of the Red Sky still lives."
Li Yun and Zhiya turned toward the voice. A man in a grey cloak, his face hidden behind a metal mask, stood atop a newly risen stone pillar. Around him, six shadowy figures emerged—each radiating a pressure that weighed on the air.
"Who are you?" Zhiya called, already poised to strike.
"Me? Just one of many debt collectors from the past. Your clan owed us… and never paid."
Li Yun stepped forward. "You've come to kill me?"
"If I can, of course." The masked man raised his hand, and the six subordinates charged forward.
Without hesitation, Li Yun gripped his inherited weapon—the Duskflame Blade—forged from the remnants of the legacy space. Flames surged along its edge, and with one powerful slash, he repelled two attackers at once.
Zhiya leapt into action as well, her body spinning gracefully as layers of wind formations tore through incoming strikes.
But their enemies were trained. These weren't mere raiders or bounty hunters—they were a task force sent to erase the remnants of a great clan.
The battle raged fiercely. The ground trembled, cracks spreading across the valley floor. Yet Li Yun held his ground. Though wounds multiplied across his body, the flame within him only grew stronger.
"Why don't you just give up?" the masked man roared, unleashing a final technique—an enormous vortex of black energy shaped like a dragon.
Li Yun stood in its center, his body wrapped in blazing crimson light. He took a deep breath, then shouted with all his might:
"I AM THE FINAL FLAME OF RED SKY!"
Suddenly, a golden-red blaze erupted from within him. It wasn't ordinary fire—it was the Flame of the Inherited Soul, a force that could only be awakened by one who had staked their entire life.
The vortex dragon shattered in an instant.
Their enemies were hurled in every direction. The masked figure was thrown dozens of meters away, slamming into a massive rock before collapsing, unconscious.
Zhiya turned, breathing heavily. "You… you've accessed the Soul Flame?"
Li Yun lowered his head, his body trembling. But he smiled.
"I'm... not done yet. This... is only the beginning."