The sky over Emberlight Academy cracked open with a roar. Thunder rolled across the mountains like an ancient beast turning in its sleep.
Below, the academy grounds stirred in uneasy motion disciples rushing to their lessons, instructors murmuring of shifts in qi, and elders glancing westward toward the origin of the storm.
But it wasn't a natural one.
It was summoned.
And deep down, Lian Mu could feel it wasn't meant for the academy it was meant for him.
He stood in the training grounds just outside the Inner Ring, where wind danced through carved stone archways and sparring rings shimmered with embedded runes.
His sparring partner, Alira of the Jade Wind Sect, lunged with a storm forged glaive, her strikes smooth as wind and cutting as lightning.
Lian sidestepped.
The glaive passed inches from his cheek, sparks trailing its edge. He twisted, flame coiling through his arms, and swept his hand in an arc.
"Thread Form: Ember Spiral!"
A chain of fire lashed out, curling through the air in a spiral pattern, deflecting her glaive and pushing her off balance. She landed on one knee, eyes wide.
"Too fast," she muttered.
"Too predictable," Lian countered, panting lightly.
They both dropped their stances.
Around them, several students clapped in approval. A few instructors watched from the higher ledges, murmuring behind fans or through locked telepathic sigils.
Kael tossed a waterskin from the side. "Nice work, Flameboy. You almost didn't look like you were holding back."
Lian caught the flask, uncapped it, and drank deep. "That's because I wasn't holding back."
Kael raised an eyebrow. "Really? I've seen you move faster when swatting mosquitoes."
Lian didn't respond. He was distracted. The storm on the horizon had shifted, drawing closer.
He could feel the Godseed stir like it recognized something in the air.
A New Visitor
By evening, the sky had darkened unnaturally. What should have been a passing thunderstorm now loomed over Emberlight like a second sky grey black clouds pulsing with violet veins of lightning, humming with a frequency Lian could almost hear in his bones.
He wasn't the only one who noticed.
Serai found him near the Flamehall's inner cloister, her robes whipped by wind, eyes hard with concern.
"They're coming," she said simply.
"Who?"
"The Delegates. From the Outer Sects. One of them is a Soulburn Envoy."
Lian blinked. "Soulburn? From beyond the Dusk Valley?"
"They were invited by the Council. This storm is theirs."
Lian frowned. "Why now?"
"You know why."
He did.
The moment he drank the Living Flame and awakened the Burning Vein, it was no longer just an academy matter. News would've spread like wildfire.
And those who once whispered about Godseeds would now want to see one in action or crush it before it could grow.
"What do they want with me?"
"To test you. Or take you. Or kill you. Who knows?"
Serai didn't sugarcoat things. Lian appreciated that about her.
"They'll meet with you tomorrow," she said. "Privately. I'll be nearby, but not in the room."
"Why not?"
"Because if things go badly, they'll want it clean. No witnesses."
Lian exhaled slowly.
"So, politics."
Serai nodded. "Flavored with murder."
A Seed in the Dark
That night, Lian sat alone in his chamber.
The Godseed's hum grew louder now. Its rhythm was no longer just a part of him it was shaping him. His thoughts. His instincts. His choices.
He opened the scroll he had taken from the archives the night before. The cracked memory crystal still glimmered faintly. He poured qi into it.
A passage emerged, whispered in a voice not his own:
"The Primordial Seeds do not grow like normal paths. They devour. They rewrite. A cultivator who merges with one becomes both wielder and wound."
"Only one in a thousand survives its blooming."
"And none remain unchanged."
Lian let the words settle.
He looked at his hands.
They didn't feel like his anymore.
He clenched his fists.
Let them become something else, then.
So long as they were strong enough to hold on.
The storm arrived with footsteps.
No fanfare. No announcements. Just the quiet hush of wind dying as a figure cloaked in black and red robes stepped through Emberlight's main gate, walking alone beneath clouds that churned without lightning.
The Sectmasters and high elders gathered on the upper balconies to watch.
So did the disciples though few knew exactly who this visitor was. The more sensitive ones stepped back instinctively, repelled not by the stranger's aura, but by the absence of it.
Lian was already waiting in the inner courtyard when the Envoy approached.
The courtyard had been emptied for the meeting. Even Serai wasn't visible though he could feel her qi hovering somewhere beyond the pillars, coiled and ready like a shadowed blade.
The Soulburn Envoy came to a stop just short of the Flame Seal embedded in the center of the courtyard.
He lowered his hood, revealing a face that looked young, too young smooth, unscarred, eyes the color of burnt glass.
But age clung to him. Not in wrinkles or decay, but in weight.
When he spoke, his voice was layered, like multiple echoes folded into one.
"You are the one they call Lian Mu."
Lian bowed slightly. "And you are?"
The Envoy's lips curled faintly. Not a smile more like the memory of one.
"You may call me Shadar. I represent the Ember Concord and the Soulburn Pact beyond the Dusk Valley. We have come not to threaten, but to… understand."
Lian straightened. "Understand what?"
Shadar stepped closer. His feet made no sound against the stone.
"The anomaly. The deviation. The song that now sings through your blood."
Lian didn't answer.
Shadar tilted his head.
"You awakened the Burning Vein. That should not be possible. Not without guidance. Not without heritage."
"Maybe I got lucky," Lian said evenly.
Shadar laughed soft, dry, humorless.
"Luck is a story the weak tell themselves to explain why the strong keep rising."
His eyes narrowed slightly. "We've seen this before. A few times. In fractured records, forgotten tombs.
Each time, the outcome was the same: convergence, corruption, and collapse. The cultivator burns brighter than the sun… and dies faster than a falling star."
"Then why are you here?" Lian asked.
Shadar extended his hand.
"To offer a choice. Submit to examination. Let the Concord study what has grown inside you. Or…"
"Or?"
Shadar's eyes darkened.
"You fight. And I break you. Publicly. So that the world may see your failure and fear no legend you might become."
The First Flame's Answer
Silence rippled through the courtyard.
Even the storm above stilled, as if waiting.
Lian stepped forward, just once, until he stood at the edge of the Flame Seal.
And he placed his hand over his heart.
"I was raised in ash. Trained in fire. Marked by something I never asked for."
His voice didn't rise. But the heat around him did.
"I will not be studied like an animal."
Shadar's hand fell to his side, fingers loosening.
"Then this is your answer."
Lian nodded. "It is."
With a flick of his hand, the Flame Seal blazed to life.
A circular ring of ember glyphs erupted beneath their feet, forming a dueling ward that crackled with protective barriers and dimensional locks.
The audience high above stirred elders whispering behind glowing silks, disciples holding their breath.
Lian's flames surged around him in twin spirals, coiling upward into shapes of serpents and spears. His Godseed pulsed once not in resistance, but approval.
Across from him, Shadar shed his outer robe.
Underneath, his body was covered in sigils etched into the skin burning black ink that shimmered like molten obsidian.
He didn't draw a weapon. He didn't need one.
Thread Clash.
They moved at the same time.
Shadar blinked across the ward with impossible speed, appearing behind Lian with a whisper of heat displacement.
But Lian had already shifted.
"Thread Form: Radiant Spiral!"
A ring of fire burst outward, forcing Shadar to twist mid strike. He countered with a palm strike that shimmered purple black, a Soulburn Qi technique designed not to wound but to disrupt.
Lian's shoulder went numb. Pain followed an instant later, delayed by the spiritual shock.
He grunted, stepped back, and flared his threads again.
The Godseed roared in response, sending arcs of golden flame along his arms. His skin cracked not from injury, but from pressure.
He struck with both fists, one high, one low serpentine flame trails dancing around Shadar, seeking openings.
Shadar weaved through them like silk through fingers.
And then he touched the ground.
A pulse of Soulburn Qi erupted beneath Lian's feet a trap laid in advance. The ground shimmered violet, and pain spiked through Lian's spine.
But he didn't fall.
Instead, he breathed in the flame.
And something changed.
The Second Awakening. The courtyard shifted. Or maybe reality did.
Lian's vision blurred, then sharpened. Colors intensified each flame no longer orange or gold, but threaded with meaning. Emotions. Memory. Lineage.
He saw the structure of his own flamepath not just as a conduit of energy, but as a map of identity. And he reached deeper into it.
Godseed Synchronization: 43%… 58%…
WARNING: Identity Overlap Detected.
Proceed?
Lian gritted his teeth.
"Proceed."
Golden fire exploded outward.
Shadar staggered just slightly. It was the first reaction he'd shown.
The flames around Lian no longer obeyed gravity or logic. They flickered against time, each spark moving like a decision made in reverse.
He punched forward.
Shadar raised his arm and the force of the blow sent him sliding back across the ward.
Not broken. Not bleeding.
But no longer dismissive.
Ending Without Defeat
The elders above stood now.
Even Serai had moved from the shadows, hovering at the edge of the courtyard, face pale.
Shadar's mouth opened slightly. "So it is true."
He raised his hand.
"I yield."
Lian froze. "What?"
"I said I yield," Shadar repeated. "You are beyond what we expected. To fight further would be reckless… and disrespectful to the force you now channel."
Lian didn't lower his guard.
Shadar's expression remained unreadable.
"You've chosen your path," he said. "And now others will come. Not to offer you choices but to take theirs by force."
He stepped back.
"Survive, Lian Mu. If you can."
Then he vanished no flash, no sound. Just gone.
Lian stood alone in the scorched ward.
The Flame Seal dimmed.
And far above, the storm finally broke.