Without uttering a single word, Zhao Li Xin slowly placed his hand upon his chest.
Instantly, golden flames erupted from beneath his palm. The immortal Flame, burning with a brilliant radiance that bathed his expressionless face in a dazzling golden glow, transforming his figure from that of an ordinary mortal into an ancient deity rising to pass judgment upon the world.
With deliberate calm, he reached into the raging inferno.
His fingers closed around the flames as though they were something tangible, and with a slow, steady motion, he drew them from within the blaze.
Tendrils of golden fire followed his hand like streams of liquid silk, twisting and converging in the air. The brilliant flames began to condense, their radiant gold gradually deepening into a fierce crimson. The fire compressed tighter and tighter until, with a sudden surge of power, it took the shape of a magnificent sword.
