Chapter 1 — Flame Stone Town
Yan Shi Town never slept.
Even at dawn, when the red sun had just begun to creep over the jagged silhouette of the Ten Thousand Flame Mountains, the town was already alive with noise—pickaxes striking stone, carts creaking under heavy loads, and the hoarse shouts of overseers urging miners to move faster.
The air was thick with the acrid smell of sulfur and ash, mixed with the metallic tang of ore. Even standing still made the lungs ache. Sweat clung to clothes, faces, and hair; the oppressive heat of the fire-attribute ore veins made every breath a challenge.
Hao Tian adjusted the frayed cloth wrapped around his hands and swung his pickaxe into the dark red rock wall again.
Kang!
Sparks flew, scattering across the tunnel like fleeting fireflies before settling in the dust.
"Move faster, you useless trash!"
A whip cracked through the air. Pa! The sound ricocheted off the stone walls.
Hao Tian's back stiffened, but he didn't turn.
Behind him stood Zhao Kuang, the mine overseer's son. Broad-shouldered and tall, his body bore the signs of years of cultivation at the Body Tempering Ninth Layer. He had been trained to crush ordinary men with ease. In his hand, a thick iron whip coiled like a viper, gleaming ominously in the dim torchlight. His sneer was permanent, his cruelty legendary among the miners.
Around them, other miners lowered their heads and worked faster, fearful of drawing attention. A few whispered, trembling:
"Don't look at him… he's already had three men sent to the hospital this week."
Hao Tian exhaled slowly and struck the rock again. Kang. Kang.
"Move your useless legs, Hao Tian! Or do you want me to show you how fast pain can teach obedience?" Zhao Kuang's sneer deepened as he stepped closer.
Hao Tian finally turned his head, his expression calm—almost unnervingly calm.
"Brother Zhao," he said evenly, "this vein is almost exhausted. The ore here is thin. Perhaps the last cart should go to the outer wall. That's where richer veins are."
Zhao Kuang's eyes narrowed.
"Oh? You're talking back now?" He swung the whip. Hao Tian instinctively leaned back just enough to avoid it. Swish! The whip tore through the cloth covering his shoulder. A thin line of blood appeared, but Hao Tian didn't flinch. He simply returned to his rhythm, Kang, Kang, Kang, swinging the pickaxe.
A miner nearby whispered to his companion, "He's not scared… but why isn't he screaming yet?"
Hao Tian's gaze drifted to his friends nearby.
There was Li Chen, a wiry boy only a year younger than him. Li Chen had been working in the mines since he was ten and had become Hao Tian's unofficial partner. Together, they had learned to push carts through the narrow tunnels without losing balance. Li Chen's hands were raw and scarred, but he gave Hao Tian a small, encouraging nod as he lifted a basket of ore.
Then there was Xiao Mei, a girl who often helped in the sorting room at the mine entrance. Timid but clever, she had a knack for noticing veins of ore that others missed. Her dark eyes, wide with intelligence, scanned the tunnel constantly. When she spotted Hao Tian, she gave him a quick smile—half encouragement, half worry. Hao Tian felt a faint warmth inside, a strange comfort amidst the suffocating heat and danger.
Zhao Kuang leaned in, cracking his whip dangerously close. "Don't think I won't punish your friends next. You keep hiding scraps for yourself, and they'll pay first!"
Hao Tian's jaw tightened. Not today. He didn't speak, continuing to swing the pickaxe with precise movements.
Kang, Kang, Kang.
The tunnel echoed with the rhythmic sound, punctuated by occasional cries of pain from other miners.
Suddenly, a deep rumble rolled through the tunnel. Dust fell from the ceiling in tiny clouds.
Rumble…
Hao Tian froze. His senses sharpened. Something was wrong.
"Cave-in!" someone screamed.
Panic erupted. Miners dropped tools, shouting and scrambling toward the exit. Hao Tian grabbed Li Chen's arm. "This way! Follow me!"
They dashed through the tunnel, but before they could reach the wider passage, the ground beneath them cracked violently. Rocks fell from the ceiling, and the floor itself began to give way.
"?!" Hao Tian barely registered the noise before he plunged downward.
Li Chen shouted after him, but Hao Tian was already falling, tumbling through darkness and heat. Sparks from falling rocks burned past him. Dust filled his mouth. The air was suffocating.
Finally, with a splash and a thud, he hit the ground. Pain shot through his body like molten steel. He coughed violently, tasting blood. Around him, the cavern walls glowed red, lit by slow rivers of magma that flowed like rivers of liquid fire.
Hao Tian's breathing was ragged. His clothes were scorched, his skin blistered. Yet, miraculously, he was alive. Barely.
He slowly sat up, wincing as his muscles protested. And that was when he saw it.
In the center of the cavern, perched atop a jagged stone platform, sat a skeleton. Cross-legged, almost meditative, it radiated a faint, terrifying pressure. Hao Tian's pulse quickened. A cultivator… and a powerful one at that.
Floating in front of it was a small, dim flame. No bigger than a candle, flickering weakly, yet it seemed to draw the air and light around it. Beside the skeleton lay a blackened, ancient manual and a jade bottle containing three crimson pills.
Hao Tian approached cautiously. His hand trembled as he reached out to the flame. Even from this distance, it radiated warmth, intelligence, and—strangely—a sense of longing.
He glanced at the manual. The words were scorched into the cover but still legible:
Nine Yang Pill Refinement Manual
He turned to the jade bottle, then back at the flame. Hesitation battled with desperation in his chest.
A thought surfaced, loud and insistent: If I die here, I die meaningless. But if I take this… maybe I can become something.
He swallowed hard. Slowly, deliberately, he reached for the flame. It flickered toward him, reacting to his presence.
"I… I'll try," he whispered, voice shaking. "I don't know if I'm worthy… but I will not waste this."
The moment his fingers brushed the flame, heat surged through him like a tidal wave. Pain unlike anything he had ever felt exploded in his chest. His dantian screamed as if it had been ripped apart.
Hao Tian's scream echoed off the cavern walls. His limbs convulsed. Every meridian in his body felt like it had been lit on fire.
Then the flame, faint but persistent, wrapped itself around his dantian. Pain became clarity. Heat became guidance. The broken pathways of his meridians began to stitch themselves together, burnt fragments burning away in the flame's warmth.
He collapsed, vision blurring. Shadows danced across the cavern as memories and hallucinations assaulted him: his parents' death in the beast tide, Zhao Kuang's cruelty, the endless tunnels of the mine. Voices whispered:
"You're a waste…"
"You'll never be anything…"
"You should have died with your parents…"
His body shook violently, pain screaming through every fiber. But somewhere deep in the burning heat, a small seed of understanding took root.
I can survive this.
Hao Tian clenched his teeth, gritting against the agony. I won't rot in this mine. I won't be a nobody.
With trembling hands, he gripped the jade bottle again. The first pill had done its job—destroyed, burned, and forced his body to rebuild. He prepared to take the second.
The second pill reinforced. Muscles, bones, and organs bathed in a warm, burning current. Impurities were expelled from his pores in black smoke. Hao Tian's skin turned red, then slowly normalized. He felt his body becoming stronger.
The third pill went directly into his dantian.
Hum—
The Nine Transformations Origin Flame flared inside him, stabilizing, pulling his newly reconstructed dantian into rhythm. Hao Tian inhaled deeply and attempted to guide the Qi around his body.
Even in his clumsy movements, he could feel it. Qi flowed like rivers through newly widened meridians. For the first time in his life, he could sense it.
His eyes widened. He had… cultivated.
And then came the greatest shock.
Glancing at the manual, he realized he understood it. Every diagram, every note, every step clicked instantly in his mind. Where before it had been incomprehensible, it now made perfect sense.
Hao Tian staggered back, his chest rising and falling rapidly. He laughed, a strange mix of disbelief and exhilaration.
"…Comprehension…" he whispered. "It's my talent… it's been here all along."
He looked down at the skeleton, bowing deeply. "Senior Yan Guichen… I don't know why you chose me. But I swear… I will not waste this."
The flame in his dantian flickered softly, almost approvingly. Hao Tian straightened his back, resolve hardening in his chest.
I'll survive. I'll grow. I'll rise.
He looked toward the tunnel above, toward the world that had always seemed impossible.
And somewhere in the flicker of the Nine Transformations Origin Flame, a faint echo of a promise seemed to whisper back:
So be it…