Emberfall Town lay at the edge of the world, forgotten by great sects and trampled by time. dust-covered streets wound between crumbling buildings, and the wind carried with it the faint smell of ash, as though the town itself had long since burned and never truly recovered
At the heart of Emberfall stood the Yan Clan.
Once, its name had shaken nearby region. Now its walls were cracked, its courtyards empty, and its former glory reduced to quiet whispers spoken only by the elderly. Broken tiles littered the rooftops, and weeds grew freely between the stone paths, mocking the clan's decline.
Night descended silently.
in a secluded courtyard, a young man sat cross-legged beneath the cold moonlight. His breathing was steady, though his body trembled faintly with weakness. His name was Mochen, the disgrace of the Yan Clan --born with talent, yet crippled before his cultivation could truly begin.
for years, his meridians had been damaged. No matter how hard he tried, spiritual energy slipped through him like water through broken fingers. Once hailed as a genus, he had become a burden, a reminder of everything the Yan Clan had lost.
Yet tonight, Mochen did not open his eyes.
Pain surged suddenly from his lower abdomen. His dantian burned as if molten iron had been poured into it.
He gasped, blood seeping from the corner of his lips as his spirtual sea violently stirred.
Then-
A spark appeared.
Crimson in color, edged with deep black, the flame flickered weakly at first, then erupted like a beast breaking free from its cage. A terrifying heat flooded his body, devouring flesh, bone, and will alike.
Mochen screamed.
His meridians shattered and reformed in the same breath. His bones cracked, then hardened. Every inch of him burned, yet something deeper refused to yield.
Inside his mind, an ancient voice echoed.
"You were born in ashes...
So you shall rise through flame."
The Scarlet Void Flame had awakened.
Mochen clenched his teeth, forcing himself to endure. He did not beg. he did not retreat. He let the flame burn him, temper him, reshape him. The pain was unbearable, yet strangely... familiar.
When the fire finally calmed, Mochen collapsed to the ground, drenched in sweat, his body smoking faintly.
But he was alive.
Slowly, he opened his eyes.
The world looked different. Clearer. Sharper. He could feel spiritual energy flowing--no longer slippng away. but responding to his will. Within his dantian, the Scarlet Void Flame rested quietly, like sleeping dragon.
he had stepped into cultivation.
The Ember Tempering Realm--Spark Stage.
Soft footsteps echoed behind him.
"Mochen- ge..."
A young girl stood at the edge of the courtyard. Yan Ling's eyes were red , her hands clenched tightly at her sides. She had watched everything, fear and worry written plainly on her face.
"You scared me,"she said softly.
Mochen smiled faintly, reaching out to pat her head. "I'm still here, aren't I?"
She nodded, tears, finally falling.
Mochen's gaze drifted toward the broken walls of the clan compound. Once, the Yan Clan had ruled this land. Now, they struggled to survive among even the weakest families.
His smile faded.
He rose to his feet and raised his hand. A stand of crimson flame danced across flame danced across his fingers. With a flick of his wrist, it touched a nearby stone pillar.
The stone faded.
He rose to his feet and raised his hand. A strand of crimson flame danced across his finger. With a flick of his wrist, it touched a nearby stone pillar.
The stone vanished.
No explosion. No debris. It was simply... gone devoured without a trace.
Mochen's heart pounded.
"This flame..." he murmured.
That night, as he meditated once more, a vision appeared before him. Endless skies dyed crimson. Nine blazing suns hung above a sea of fire. upon a throne of burning ash sat a lone figure, flames bowing before his presence.
Mochen started at the vision, his eye clam, his resolve unshaken.
If the heavens stood in his way--
He would burn them.
The cripple had taken his first step.
The world simply hadn't realized it yet.