When the old master noticed droplets of blood seeping between the masked man's fingers, he immediately understood that the visitor's intentions were far from pure. His certainty deepened when he glimpsed a wretched red drop clinging stubbornly to one of the stranger's dark eyelashes—like a tiny witness to an unspoken crime.
In worried silence, he asked himself: How can I protect that little one from this enemy's claws… and from the furnace's darkness before that?
The masked man stepped forward with heavy, deliberate steps. His voice came calm yet edged with steel as he walked past the old master toward his goal: "Do not fear. I will not harm you unless you harm me. This is my oath of honor to you… old man."
The master's voice rose, heavy with confusion: "Then why have you come in such a suspicious guise, stranger, if you do not intend evil?"
The masked man replied coldly, placing both hands on the furnace door: "My business is none of yours… old man."
He drove his long fingers into the metal, channeling dark magic through them as he tried to wrench the door open. Yet the heavy furnace door did not budge; it was as if defiance itself had forged it.
Then he began reciting a spell—one that only a single person in all the kingdoms could perform: Jin Hai. The master's heart trembled in bewilderment, but he remained still. He had decided to let the masked intruder try for as long as possible… until the right moment came to save the girl inside before the furnace consumed her.
The masked man tried again and again, expending fearsome power, but he failed. The door could not be opened until the furnace completed its annihilation.
Meanwhile, the old master muttered to himself in a voice barely audible: "Should I help him open the furnace, only for him to kill me afterward? Or should I confront him now and be killed anyway?" He sighed deeply. "His aura is strong… too strong. I am no match for him. So what can I possibly do to save her?"
At last, he stepped forward and cast his own spell, trying to aid his enemy. The masked man hesitated for a heartbeat, confused, but he dismissed the feeling and continued working.
Both of them struggled together, racing against time to save what each of them desired. But the attempt failed again. They exchanged a long glance, and a silent conversation passed between them: "If it fails, I will kill you. And if it opens, I will destroy you."
They tried again… failed… and tried once more. But before they could begin another attempt, the door opened by itself—or so they believed. Neither realized that the small girl inside had eased it open for them.
At the sound of the door creaking, both men felt a sudden spark of hope. But they also knew, at that exact moment, that this sound had unleashed the beasts hidden within their hearts—two creatures starved in the cage of despair, now loosed at the scent of opportunity.
Before the old master could draw his magical sword, the masked stranger struck first, driving his poisoned dagger between the master's ribs. The old man was not surprised; he had known from the start that betrayal was inevitable, and that his fate—sooner or later—was death at this visitor's hands.
Yet he had insisted on saving that poor girl… even if it meant aiding his enemy, only to die for it.
His blood—blue and thick—gushed from the wound, and he collapsed unconscious.
The masked man seized the moment and entered the furnace, unaware of what awaited him inside. How reckless he was—marching into the lair of death with boldness unshadowed by caution.
He wandered through the furnace's darkness like a condemned comet drifting through an endless black void. The pursuing lights of destruction swirled behind him with ferocious hunger. He searched for a long time and found nothing but emptiness.
Then, suddenly, Huo Feng appeared before him in her human form.
He darted toward her instantly, circling her again and again, trying to rouse her from her deep slumber. But she did not move... until a drop of blood fell onto her hand.
She inhaled the scent—sharp with malice. Pain rippled through her, followed by nausea, and she opened her eyes with a clarity forged from fury and resolve. She awoke for one purpose alone: to punish the traitor. She sensed that the blood had come from someone dear to her.
She soared toward him like a blazing comet and halted inches away, demanding: "What are you doing here? And what have you done… out there?"
He answered with annoyance laced with indifference: "That does not concern you. Hand over what you stole."
She momentarily forgot her anger and asked, innocent and confused: "What do you mean?"
He sighed sharply, patience wearing thin: "The jar. And the forbidden spell inside it. It was here—and only you could have taken it."
She replied with calm certainty: "I have nothing that belongs to you. But now… I will."
He shouted in rage: "Stop lying! It's the strongest spell in all the kingdoms! The furnace could never destroy it. Where did you hide it? Surrender it now or you will suffer the same fate as the old man!"
She gave him a cold, icy stare, then murmured: "I thought so. So it was his blood."
He tried to justify himself: "I didn't intend to kill him. But I saw betrayal in his eyes, so I acted first."
She closed her eyes, calm as a silent storm: "And I too saw betrayal in yours… so I will punish you."
He laughed at her threat and lunged toward her.
Their battle erupted like a clash between two meteors. Each collision sparked flames—flames of fury.
When she grew tired of those "fireworks," Huo Feng shot toward him, heralding the beginning of true retribution.
She approached until her nose touched his. Embarrassment flickered across his face, but she did not waver. She leaned further… and slipped inside his very soul.
What she found there stunned her: vast realms, galaxies of light, constellations she had never imagined. But she did not forget her purpose.
Without hesitation, she reached out and tore from his soul two small stars—wings of pure diamond. His scream was unlike any human cry; she had ripped a fragment of his very essence.
She exited his soul and stood before him again, watching his body tremble violently. He could barely speak: "What… what have you done, you monster? How did you tear my soul so easily?"
She replied coldly, drifting back to distance herself from both him and the feeling of vengeance: "You have no right to weep. You invaded the magic furnace… invaded me… and harmed my master. Consider this a greeting."
Then she shot toward him again, eyes sharp as blades: "Leave now… or neither I nor the furnace will forgive you."
He stared at her face intensely, as if engraving it into memory, then murmured, weak but seething with hatred: "I admit defeat… I cannot fight you. I will leave. But I will return—for vengeance."
She accompanied him to the door… to the threshold of the fog. Once he vanished, she saw her master lying on the ground, his blue blood soaking his robes and the floor beneath him.
She panicked and tried to help him, but she could not cross the boundary. She could not leave the furnace—not even through its wide-open door.
A deep voice echoed from the darkness around her: "The time has not come yet… girl."
She searched her mind for a way to save him, but she knew no spells, nor did she possess any magical powers.
Then, suddenly—unconsciously—a ray of light flowed from her palm. A magical beam, perhaps of hope… or life.
It extended toward the old master, sank into the sole of his foot, and began weaving his decaying body like a torn cloth being rewoven anew.
When the light faded, the old master awoke as though nothing had harmed him. He knew instantly that she had saved him.
He closed the furnace door upon her, unwillingly but full of gratitude, then sat in his creaking chair and whispered: "Only now… has my true mission begun."
And years passed. Hundreds of years.