Kai sat at the edge of the trial gate platform, his legs crossed, eyes shut. Three trials. Three victories. But every inch of his body screamed.
His mind was quiet—but raw.
Each trial had carved something out of him. A piece of guilt. A sliver of doubt. A version of himself he'd once been.
He wasn't the same boy who had entered these flames.
And he couldn't go back.
Qi surged inside him—hotter, deeper, more responsive than before. The third seal had unlocked not just power, but clarity. His flames no longer flickered; they obeyed him.
But that power came with pressure.
Above the stone chamber, Elder Xuan observed through a viewing crystal. Linya stood beside him, arms crossed.
"He's alive," she said.
Xuan grunted. "Barely. The Fourth Trial isn't just a test of flame. It tests purpose."
Linya narrowed her eyes. "And if he has none?"
Xuan didn't answer.
Below, Kai opened his eyes. He could feel the fourth gate pulsing already. It hadn't opened yet—but it would.
It was waiting for him.
He stood, steady now. His body stronger. His flame warmer.
But he wasn't ready to walk forward—not yet.
He looked at his hands.
Burn scars still marked his palms—from years ago. Before Emberheart. Before the sect. Before anyone cared if he lived or died.
He had climbed up from nothing.
But somewhere in the back of his mind, he remembered the Matron's words—whispered through that dark ritual pool, just days before:
"Power is a leash. And yours is already pulling tight."
The wind shifted.
And for a moment—just a breath—Kai felt something.
Eyes.
Watching him.
Far beyond the flame trials. Far beyond Emberheart.
He spun around.
Nothing.
Only stone.
But he could swear—just for a moment—he heard someone crying.
A child's sob, buried in ash.
Meanwhile, leagues away, the Matron stood over the smoldering remains of Red Vale.
The Shades knelt behind her, silent.
Only one report was given:
"Target connections… eliminated. Except for one."
The Matron stared at the flame-marked pendant found in the ruins.
She raised it, watched it glow faintly.
A smile curled under her veil.
"So fate still clings."
She handed it to the smallest Shade.
A girl, no older than twelve.
"Find her. Bring her to me. If Kai Ascends, she will be his undoing."
The child Shade bowed. "As you command."
Back in the trial chamber, the fourth gate's runes began to flicker.
Kai turned to face it, jaw tight.
He was done resting.
"If this path burns me alive," he whispered, "so be it."
"I won't stop walking."