The wind carried ash and the faint smell of iron. Dawn bled slowly across the far horizon, painting the scorched peaks in tones of bruised red and gray. The Ten Martial Brothers stood on the ridge above the ruins of what had once been a proud city. It was silent now eerily so. Not the silence of peace, but the silence that follows slaughter.
Chen Feng stared at the broken gates below. They hung half melted, their bronze surface warped and runneled by something far hotter than any earthly flame. He knew the signature of that burn. It was his own.
He could not remember doing it. That terrified him most of all.
Li Heng's voice was low. "The map said this was Qianlu, the trade capital of the west."
"Was," Zhao Ming muttered. His hand brushed the hilt of his sword. "Looks more like a tomb now."
Wu Zhen knelt and touched the earth. The ground was still warm. "This city fell only days ago. The fire that took it was not natural."
All eyes turned to Chen Feng. He said nothing. He could feel their judgment like heat against his back, but none dared voice it aloud.
Li Heng finally broke the silence. "We move in carefully. Find survivors. If the Crimson Sovereign's shadow reached here, we need to know why."
They descended into the ruins.
The streets were rivers of soot. Statues of old heroes lay cracked open, their faces melted into ghostly mockeries. Houses gaped empty, doors torn from hinges. A child's toy a small wooden bird lay half burned in the gutter. Chen Feng stared at it for a long time before stepping past.
Wuyue walked beside him, silent until the weight grew too heavy. "Brother… are you sure this wasn't you?"
Chen Feng's jaw tightened. "Do you think I would burn innocents?"
"I think the flame doesn't always ask permission."
The words struck like a blade between ribs. Chen Feng turned away.
Wu Zhen's voice carried from the front. "Over here!"
They gathered at the plaza. In the center stood a great lotus-shaped fountain, dry and blackened, its petals twisted inward. Around it lay bodies scores of them, dressed in the crimson robes of the Lotus Sect. They had been slaughtered, but not by any sword. Their flesh had turned to brittle ash, their bones glowing faintly from within.
Shen Dao frowned. "Burned from the inside out. This is divine fire."
"Then we're too late," Bai Ren said. "The Sovereign's priests are purging their own. Cleaning the trail."
Li Heng shook his head. "No. This wasn't cleansing. This was fear." He turned to Chen Feng. "They were trying to contain something and it broke free."
Chen Feng felt the world tilt. A faint whisper stirred at the edge of his hearing, the same voice that had haunted his dreams since the mountain: You are not free of me. The fire remembers.
He clenched his fists until his nails bit flesh. "There's someone alive."
He was right. Beneath the pile of burnt corpses, a hand twitched. Zhao Ming and Wuyue rushed forward, lifting the bodies aside until they uncovered a man half consumed by flame, his chest still faintly rising.
The man's eyes flickered open, glowing like dying embers. His voice was a rasp. "You carry it"
Chen Feng knelt. "Carry what?"
"The seed of the Sovereign. You are its vessel."
The man convulsed. Fire burst from his mouth and eyes, consuming him completely. When it faded, nothing remained but a smear of ash.
The brothers stood in stunned silence.
Li Heng's voice was flat. "We leave. Now."
But Chen Feng didn't move. He could feel something pulling him deeper into the ruins, a pulse like a heartbeat buried beneath stone. It was calling to him no, beckoning him.
Without a word, he turned and walked toward it.
"Chen Feng!" Li Heng barked, but he didn't stop.
They followed him through winding alleys until they reached the city's temple district. The largest structure still standing was the Hall of Ten Thousand Flames. Its doors were half open, and light flickered faintly inside.
When they entered, they found the source of the heartbeat.
At the altar's base burned a single lotus of living fire, suspended in the air. Its petals shimmered with every hue of red and gold, each one whispering a faint chorus of voices. The temperature was unbearable, yet Chen Feng felt drawn closer, as if the fire knew his name.
Wu Zhen tried to stop him. "Brother, wait"
Too late. Chen Feng stepped into the circle. The flame bloomed, wrapping around him like a living cloak.
Visions crashed through his mind ancient wars, burning heavens, the birth of the Lotus Sovereign from a dying god's heart. And then he saw himself, standing at the center of a collapsing world, his hands wreathed in fire, his brothers falling around him.
A single phrase echoed through it all: One flame, ten shadows. The end begins where blood and light meet.
Chen Feng screamed and fell to his knees. The lotus dissolved into him, the light sinking into his skin.
When he looked up, the fire in his eyes had changed. It no longer burned with rage it shimmered with understanding, and something colder.
Li Heng approached warily. "What did you see?"
Chen Feng's voice was distant. "The Sovereign is not a man. He is a wound in heaven. And I am the knife that opened it."
The brothers stared at him, silent.
Wu Zhen bowed his head. "Then the fire's path has begun."
Outside, thunder rolled across the sky, though no clouds had gathered. The wind carried the sound of distant horns armies on the move.
Li Heng turned toward the horizon. "The empire stirs. If Qianlu has fallen, they'll blame us next."
Zhao Ming spat into the ashes. "Let them come. Maybe it's time they learned what real fire feels like."
Chen Feng said nothing. His gaze lingered on the ruined temple, on the last flicker of light fading from the lotus pedestal. He could still hear the whispers, faint and mournful, like embers refusing to die.
The seed is planted, they murmured. The fire will bloom again.
He looked down at his hands and saw faint lines of gold running beneath his skin, pulsing softly like veins of molten metal.
The others didn't notice. Not yet.
He flexed his fingers and turned away. "Let's move. There's nothing left here."
As they departed the silent city, the wind rose again, scattering ash into the dawn. From afar, the ruins of Qianlu looked almost peaceful, a vast field of gray petals stretching to the horizon. But deep beneath the temple, something stirred a heartbeat of fire, echoing in the dark.
And above them all, unseen by mortal eyes, the Red Moon began to rise once more.
The brothers left the ruined temple as the dawn finally broke in full. The light touched the city's ruins and cast long shadows across the ash. For a moment, it almost looked beautiful silver-grey against crimson sky. But the beauty was illusion; beneath it was only death.
Li Heng kept walking, his jaw tight, his mind burning with questions. He had seen many horrors in war, but this was different. Not conquest. Not pillage. This was erasure. No armies had done this; no mortal flame could melt bronze like wax.He knew what it meant, but he could not say it aloud.
Zhao Ming trudged beside him, his armor scorched and dented. "You think this was the Sovereign himself?""No," Li Heng answered quietly. "This was his echo."
Wu Zhen walked at the rear, muttering low prayers as they passed the corpses. Each body, he noted, bore the same mark on its brow a lotus burned into the flesh. It was not a wound made by hand or weapon. It was a seal. A curse."Their souls were claimed," he murmured. "They didn't just die they were taken."
Chen Feng heard the words but didn't answer. His eyes had not left the horizon since leaving the temple. The whisper in his mind had gone silent, but its absence was worse than its presence. Silence was never mercy. Silence was a promise.
As they reached the city gates, the wind rose again. It carried with it faint voices shreds of something that had once been human. Children, merchants, guards, all blending into a single mournful sigh that rippled through the ruins.Shen Dao paused. "Do you hear it?"Li Heng nodded once. "This city remembers."
When they left Qianlu, the road stretched before them like a scar across the land. The forests had withered. The soil was black. Even the rivers seemed sluggish, carrying ash instead of silt.The further they went, the quieter the world became, as if the land itself held its breath.
At dusk, they made camp near a dead grove. The trees were skeletal, their bark flaking like burned paper.Wuyue started a small fire mundane, not divine and sat close to it, watching the flames dance. "If that city was truly the Sovereign's doing, what hope do we have?" he asked softly.Zhao Ming threw him a dry glance. "Hope? We have swords, don't we? That's enough.""Against gods?""Against anyone who bleeds."
But his voice lacked its usual fire.
Chen Feng sat apart from them, silent, staring into the distance. The golden veins beneath his skin pulsed faintly in the dark. He clenched his fists to hide it. He didn't want them to see what he was becoming.
Wu Zhen approached and sat beside him. "You're afraid," he said quietly."Of what?""Of what's inside you. Of what you already know."Chen Feng didn't answer. The monk's calm voice scraped against the rawness in his chest.Wu Zhen continued, "The flame you carry isn't a curse, Brother. It's a reflection. It becomes what you are.""Then it's doomed," Chen Feng whispered. "Because all I see now is ruin.""Then learn to see differently."
Wu Zhen rose and walked away, leaving Chen Feng alone with the whisper of fire inside his veins.
That night, he dreamed again.
He was standing in the temple, the lotus still burning before him. A figure stood behind the flame, its form hidden by light.You are mine, the voice said.Chen Feng reached for his sword, but the blade melted away.You were born of me, forged in my breath. Why do you resist your nature?"I am not your vessel."You are not mortal either. You cannot walk both paths forever.The figure stepped forward, and Chen Feng saw its face it was his own, but older, crueler, eyes burning like suns.You will burn this world clean, just as I did. It is already written.
He woke with a gasp, sweat chilling his skin. The others were asleep. Only Li Heng was awake, sitting near the dying fire, sharpening his sword in silence.Chen Feng looked at him and saw exhaustion buried beneath the steel."How long will we keep running?" he asked.Li Heng didn't look up. "Until we find something worth dying for.""Would you die for me, Brother?"Li Heng stopped sharpening. The question hung between them like a drawn blade.Finally, he said, "I already have. You just haven't seen it yet."
The next day, they crossed the plains east of Qianlu. The air was heavy with dust. Far off, they saw columns of smoke villages burning.By noon, they reached the first one. The banners of the Imperial Army fluttered over the ruins. Soldiers moved among the dead, their armor gleaming like fresh blood.
Li Heng signaled the others to hold. "Scouts," he murmured. "No more than fifty."Zhao Ming grinned. "Fifty's nothing.""Not if they're just scouts. The army itself won't be far."
They watched from the ridge as the soldiers dragged bodies into a pit. Not villagers monks in red robes. Survivors of the Lotus Sect, perhaps.A man in black armor oversaw the work, his face hidden behind a metal mask shaped like a demon. His voice carried across the wind."Burn it all. The Sovereign's taint will not spread under the Emperor's light."
Wu Zhen's eyes narrowed. "The Empire and the Sect both purging the same flame.""Which means," Li Heng said, "they both fear it."Zhao Ming spat. "They fear him."
Chen Feng said nothing. But when the masked commander raised his torch to light the pit, something in Chen Feng snapped.Without a word, he stepped forward and leapt down the hill.
"Chen Feng!" Li Heng hissed, but it was too late.
The young warrior landed in the midst of the soldiers like a storm breaking open. His blade flashed once, twice three men fell before they understood what was happening. The commander turned, shouted, "Assassin!" and raised his spear.
The Brothers charged after him, unwilling to let him face the army alone.
The battle was brief but brutal. Chen Feng moved like liquid fire, his sword cutting through armor as if it were cloth. Each swing left trails of light that burned the air. The soldiers fell back, terrified.The commander lunged, his spear bursting into flame but not his own. Chen Feng's presence set the weapon alight, the fire turning back on its wielder.
The masked man screamed as his armor melted into his flesh. He fell, clawing at the mask, revealing eyes wide with horror."Monster," he choked. "You are the same as him…"
Chen Feng hesitated and in that heartbeat, saw himself reflected in the dying man's eyes. Not human. Not anymore.
When it was over, the plain was silent again. The bodies smoldered in the pit, mingling with the monks' ashes.
Li Heng walked up to him slowly. "You broke formation. Again.""They were going to burn the dead," Chen Feng said."They were soldiers of the Empire. Now they'll call us traitors. Do you understand what that means?""I didn't ask to be worshiped or hunted.""But you brought both upon us," Li Heng snapped. "Every step we take now draws the fire closer. You're losing control, Feng."
Chen Feng's hand trembled on his sword. "Then maybe control isn't what we need anymore."Li Heng's expression hardened. "If you believe that, then you're already lost."
Zhao Ming stepped between them. "Enough. We've got bigger problems." He pointed to the east. Dust clouds were rising reinforcements.
They left the battlefield and vanished into the hills.
By dusk, they found refuge in an abandoned watchtower. There, Wu Zhen tended to their wounds while Shen Dao scouted the trails.Wuyue sat near Chen Feng, uncertain. "You saved those bodies, Brother. You gave them peace. That counts for something."Chen Feng shook his head. "No. I only fed the fire more names."
He rose and went to the window. The horizon was blood-red again. He thought of the seed the dying monk had spoken of the seed inside him. Each time he fought, it grew stronger.Each time he killed, the whispers came closer.
That night, rain fell for the first time in months. It hissed against the ashes, turning the roads to mud. The brothers sat in silence, the storm's rhythm their only companion.
Wu Zhen broke it with a whisper. "The flame inside you isn't death, Brother. It's choice. You can burn, or you can warm. That's what decides whether you are man or god."
Chen Feng looked at him. "And if I fail?""Then we burn with you," Zhao Ming said quietly. The others nodded. Even Li Heng, who said nothing, did not look away.
The rain washed the blood from their armor. For the first time in weeks, the world smelled clean.
In the distance, lightning flashed and for an instant, Chen Feng saw a shape in the clouds, vast and burning, like a lotus made of fire. It pulsed once, twice, as if in answer.
He did not sleep again that night.
By dawn, the storm had passed, and the plains steamed beneath the rising sun. They continued east, toward the mountain borders, where rumors spoke of a city untouched by both empire and sect. A city where secrets of divine fire were said to be kept.
But as they walked, Wu Zhen felt the air change. The birds had gone silent. The ground trembled faintly beneath their feet.
Li Heng raised a hand. "Something's coming."
A shadow passed over them massive wings blotting out the sun. The brothers looked up as a creature descended from the clouds, wreathed in smoke and embers. It was neither dragon nor spirit, but something between: a construct of flame given life, its body marked with lotus sigils.
Chen Feng's heart stopped. "It's mine," he whispered. "It came for me."
The creature roared, and the sky ignited.
The creature's scream split the sky, a sound like metal tearing through itself. Fire poured from its mouth in a torrent that scorched the clouds and set the plain ablaze. The brothers scattered as burning earth rained around them.
Li Heng shouted, "Form the circle!" His voice cut through the chaos. They obeyed years of discipline binding them even in the jaws of hell.
Chen Feng stood at the center. His sword glowed faintly, the same hue as the creature's fire. It circled above, wings spreading wide enough to blot out the rising sun. It wasn't just attacking; it was testing him measuring something it already recognized.
"Is it alive?" Wuyue shouted, shielding his face from the ash."No," Wu Zhen answered grimly. "It's bound. A vessel of divine will.""Whose will?" Zhao Ming demanded.Wu Zhen looked at Chen Feng. "You already know."
The creature dove.
Its body hit the ground with a force that threw them all off their feet. Claws gouged trenches in the earth, molten light bleeding from the marks. It raised its head and stared directly at Chen Feng. Its eyes were twin furnaces beautiful, endless, cruel.
Chen Feng felt something pull at him. The fire in his veins leapt to answer. He tried to resist, but it was like trying to stop his own heartbeat. The connection between them burned intimate, undeniable.
"Stand back," he warned. "It wants me."
"Then give it hell," Zhao Ming growled, drawing his twin blades.
The beast opened its maw and breathed fire. The world turned white.
For a heartbeat, there was only heat then a roar of wind as Li Heng's barrier shattered under the strain. Chen Feng stepped forward through the inferno. The flames parted around him, curling like silk, drawn inward. His skin blazed with golden light as the mark on his chest burned open, releasing streams of molten aura.
The beast hesitated.
Chen Feng lifted his sword and whispered, "If you're a mirror, then burn with me."
He moved.
The clash shook the hills. Fire met fire divine against divine. The creature screamed again, wings folding inward as Chen Feng's strike carved through its chest. Light erupted, blinding and pure, washing the color from the world.
When the radiance faded, the creature staggered, half its body dissolving into ash. It looked at Chen Feng not with hatred, but sorrow. Then it spoke, its voice low and broken:You cannot destroy what you are.
Its body burst apart into a storm of embers, scattering across the plain.
Silence followed.
The brothers stood amid scorched earth, panting, armor blackened, hair singed. The ground still smoked where the creature had fallen.
Wuyue stared at the sky. "What was that?"Wu Zhen walked slowly to the center, kneeling where the ashes lay. "A test. A messenger. The Sovereign knows where we are now."
Chen Feng's hands trembled. The mark on his chest still glowed faintly, pulsing like a heartbeat. "It called me 'itself,'" he said quietly. "Said I can't destroy what I am."
Li Heng approached him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You are not him. Don't let it make you forget that."
"But what if I am?"
Li Heng's grip tightened. "Then I'll kill you before you become him."
The words were not a threat they were a promise born of love.
They moved on. There was nothing left of the plain but ruin. The earth itself seemed scarred by the creature's passage, black veins spreading for miles. They followed the river east, seeking refuge among the hills, where rumor spoke of a hermit who once served the Lotus Sovereign before turning against him.
Three days later, they found him or rather, what remained of him.
The hermit's hut clung to the edge of a ravine, built from bones and charred wood. Smoke drifted from its chimney, but no light burned within. The brothers approached cautiously.
Wu Zhen knocked on the door. "Old one, we seek counsel."
The door creaked open, and an emaciated man stepped out, wrapped in soot-black robes. His eyes were milk-white, but they saw too much.
"Counsel," he rasped. "You bring fire to my door and ask for counsel?""We bring questions," Li Heng said evenly. "And warnings."The hermit's lips twisted into a smile. "Warnings? You think you're the first to come with fire in your blood?"
He turned his gaze on Chen Feng and stopped. His expression shifted from mockery to awe."Oh… no. Not again."
"What do you see?" Wu Zhen asked."The seed," the hermit whispered. "The same seed the Sovereign carried before he devoured the sun. You carry it now."
Chen Feng's pulse quickened. "How do I remove it?"The hermit laughed, a dry, broken sound. "Remove it? You cannot remove what was written into your birth. You are the continuation. The echo."
He reached forward and pressed a trembling finger to Chen Feng's brow. Instantly, visions flooded through his mind cities burning, mountains shattering, skies bleeding light. A single lotus floating above the chaos, petals falling like dying stars.
Then the hermit spoke one last time:"When the lotus blooms thrice, the world will end."
Before anyone could move, his body convulsed and turned to ash, scattering in the wind.
The brothers stood frozen.
"What does that mean?" Zhao Ming demanded.Wu Zhen looked pale. "The prophecy of the Three Bloomings. The Sovereign's cycle creation, destruction, rebirth. If he rises again through Chen Feng…"He didn't finish.
Li Heng's voice was iron. "Then we stop it before the third bloom."
That night, none of them slept.
Chen Feng sat alone on a cliff overlooking the ravine. The stars were dim, veiled by smoke and cloud. He thought of the hermit's words the seed, the bloom, the end. And in his mind, the voice whispered again, softer now, almost kind.Why do you fight me? We could be whole. We could be eternal."Eternal isn't peace," Chen Feng murmured.It is freedom from pain."Pain reminds us we're still human."And humanity burns too easily.
The voice faded, leaving only the wind.
By dawn, the brothers were already marching again. The road turned steep, leading them toward the high passes of the eastern mountains the edge of the known world. The air grew thin, sharp with frost.
There, amid snow and stone, they saw it the first glimpse of the fabled Silent Monastery.
It was carved directly into the mountain's heart, its walls covered in symbols that pulsed faintly like veins beneath the rock. No sound reached it. Even the wind died before touching its gates.
Wu Zhen bowed his head. "We've reached the threshold."
Li Heng studied the vast gate. "Will they help us?""They must," Wu Zhen said. "They are the last keepers of the old flame."
Chen Feng stared at the silent walls. The faint glow of the lotus mark beneath his skin answered the symbols in the stone. He knew, without knowing how, that they were connected.The monastery was not built to keep things out.It was built to keep something in.
As they approached, the gates opened on their own.
Inside, the air shimmered faintly. Monks moved like ghosts through the corridors, their eyes glowing with the same golden fire. None spoke. None blinked.
At the center of the monastery stood a pool of still water. Its surface reflected not the ceiling above but a vast sky burning with endless dawn.
An old monk awaited them there. His robes were white, untouched by ash, and his face was serene.
"I've been waiting for you, Flamebearer," he said, bowing slightly to Chen Feng."You know who I am?""I know what you carry. And I know why you must choose soon."
He gestured toward the pool. "The lotus blooms beneath this water. When it rises, the world will be remade. But only the bearer can decide in what image."
Chen Feng's breath caught. "You're saying… I can control it?"The monk nodded. "You can end it or begin it anew."
Li Heng stepped forward. "Then teach him.""I cannot. The path is his alone. But you all of you can keep him human long enough to decide."
A low rumble echoed through the mountain. The walls trembled, dust falling from the ceiling. The old monk's expression hardened. "He knows you are here. The Sovereign approaches."
Wu Zhen's eyes widened. "Now? He walks again?""No," the monk said softly. "He awakens through his reflection."
He turned to Chen Feng. "You have one night before the lotus blooms for the second time. After that, nothing will stop the fire."
The mountain shuddered again.
Outside, lightning danced across the peaks, forming the shape of a great lotus burning in the storm.
Chen Feng stepped toward the pool, staring down at his reflection the faint glow of the mark pulsing in rhythm with the light beneath the water.He could feel it calling to him.Not to destroy. Not to conquer.To return.
"Whatever happens," Li Heng said quietly, "we end it here."
The brothers drew their weapons.
The wind rose. The pool began to boil.
And deep beneath the mountain, something vast and ancient opened its eyes.