The sound echoed across the continent.
One toll.
Two.
Three.
From the Skyfall Mountains to the frozen harbors of the North, cultivators paused in mid-step, their hearts struck by something ancient—the sound of the Ashen Bell.
It had not rung in thirteen years. Not since the Emberfall Sect was destroyed. Not since Shen Liun's family had been turned to ashes.
Now, it rang again.
---
In the heart of Heaven's Reign, the First Elder of the Imperial Council stood before the jade mirror, his expression unreadable.
"Dawnmourne was pulled," he said at last.
Across from him, a woman in crimson armor stepped forward, her long braid coiled like a whip down her back. Her face was pale, her eyes sharp.
> "Do we confirm the boy's identity?"
"He bears the flame," the elder replied. "And now the founder's sword. There is no doubt."
The woman's eyes narrowed. "Then the bloodline survived."
"And worse," another elder added, "he did not burn out. He passed the trials, resisted corruption, and rejected power that should have consumed him."
"He's not a weapon," the woman murmured. "He's a will."
The First Elder turned to her. "General Ruoxi. You knew him once."
She stiffened. "That was a lifetime ago."
"Perhaps," he said. "But you'll lead the retrieval force."
She didn't answer immediately.
Then, with a faint bow, she replied, "As you command."
---
Underground, Shen Liun stood beneath the remains of the shattered monument, Dawnmourne glowing faintly in his grip.
The sword didn't burn. It pulsed.
Not like his flame. Not like Aoshen's divine power.
This was something quieter. Older.
A memory held in steel.
He ran his fingers along its edge. It responded like a living thing.
Behind him, the old guardian watched with quiet awe. "The founder chose you. That blade does not yield easily."
"I didn't force it," Liun said. "It remembered."
The old man nodded. "Then remember this: with that sword, the world will no longer ignore you."
Liun sheathed the weapon across his back.
"I'm not here to be noticed," he said. "I'm here to rise."
The chamber trembled faintly. A new path opened in the stone—leading upward.
"You've cleared the lower sanctum," Aoshen said within him. "What lies ahead is no longer trial… but war."
---
They emerged into moonlight.
For the first time since falling into the ancient ruins, Shen Liun and Ning'er stood beneath the open sky. They were at the foot of a mountain, the night wind crisp with summer chill.
Ning'er looked up. "We're near the Emberfall Range. The stars look the same… but something feels different."
"It is," Liun said. "We're not the same."
She glanced at him. "What happens now?"
Before he could answer, a flare of light streaked across the sky.
Then another.
In the distance, three beacons lit the clouds—gold, silver, and crimson—each a signal of an incoming force.
Aoshen growled within Liun's core. > "The Empire has seen your light. They're coming."
"How many?" Liun asked.
> "Too many."
Ning'er gripped her blade. "We can run—head west into the forest range. There's a small border village that might give us shelter."
Liun shook his head. "Running won't help. They won't stop hunting me."
He looked at Dawnmourne on his back.
"I need allies."
"Do you know any who'll still stand with you?"
Liun's gaze turned distant.
"Maybe not yet."
"But I'll find them."
---
Far to the west, in a ruined monastery hidden beneath the sands, a blind old man sat cross-legged in silence. Before him burned a single candle. When the Ashen Bell tolled, he opened his eyes—milky and pale, but seeing more than most.
"The boy has awakened," he whispered.
His apprentice stirred. "Will you go to him?"
"No," the old man said. "He must come to me."
He reached out and touched the flame.
"And if he does… the heavens will remember why they once feared the name Ashen God."
---
Back beneath the stars, Shen Liun stood alone atop a ridge, watching the sky.
Ning'er had gone to scout ahead. The forest below was quiet, but the tension in the air hadn't faded.
He held his hand over his heart.
He could feel it now—not just the flame, not just Aoshen's divine presence.
But something deeper.
A tide turning.
The empire thought he had died.
Ye Ruoxi had cast him aside.
The world had forgotten him.
But the Ashen Flame still burned.
And it would rise until it set the heavens ablaze.
---