The tomb chamber sealed itself with a groan like ancient stone weeping.
Li Fan stood within a ring of flame. Not ordinary fire—this one fed on will, testing the weight of his convictions. His clothes smoldered, but his skin did not burn. Instead, memories sparked into view, playing around him like ghosts in the fire.
He saw his mother's grave.
His first bone-shattering training under Uncle Yao.
The first time he failed… and the first time he chose to stand again.
> "You seek the Sixth Cauldron," the flame whispered. "But strength is not given. What will you sacrifice?"
The old cracked cauldron in the center began to glow.
Its voice was deeper than thunder and older than time.
> "To command the body is to command the world. Are you ready to pay the price?"
Li Fan knelt in silence, placing both hands on the cauldron.
And for the first time, he did not answer with words—but with resolve.
---
Above the tomb, chaos broke loose.
The bounty hunters advanced like a flood—twenty strong, well-equipped, many already at mid-tier cultivation. Their weapons glowed with poison, shadow techniques, or frost-seals.
Wen Rourou stood at the front, blade dancing in arcs of cold silver.
Yun Jian conjured a rotating glyph that spewed lightning.
Mu Qiu, red-faced and swearing, tossed alchemic powders that exploded in toxic clouds.
But they were outnumbered.
---
From the ridge, the cloaked imperial agent watched, unmoving.
Then he spoke softly into a jade slip: "Engaging the protection detail. The subject is belowground, undergoing trial. No sign of collapse—yet."
He turned, vanishing from view.
---
Back in the tomb, Li Fan screamed—not from pain, but from the pressure.
The cauldron flared, flooding his body with liquified fire Qi.
Bones snapped.
Veins glowed like rivers of lava.
His dantian twisted in agony.
The Sixth Cauldron took shape not in his belly, but across his entire body—every cell forging itself anew.
He felt it hammer into place with the final roar of the cauldron spirit.
And then…
> Silence.
The fire died instantly.
The tomb was still.
And Li Fan rose, steam pouring from his mouth.
His Sixth Cauldron had formed.
But he did not smile.
He heard the battle above.
And he moved.
---
With a single punch, he shattered the sealed tomb doors and shot skyward like a spear of flame.
Above, Mu Qiu fell to one knee, bleeding.
Wen Rourou fought three at once.
Yun Jian's glyph flickered, cracking.
Then a golden light exploded from the sand.
Li Fan landed in the middle of the battlefield—shirtless, eyes glowing, his very presence pushing the enemy back a step.
One mercenary shouted, "He's survived it! The Sixth Cauldron!"
Another trembled. "That's not a cultivator—that's a weapon!"
Li Fan didn't speak.
He moved.
The sand burned beneath his feet.
The enemies broke before they even clashed.
---
When it was over, only silence remained.
Wen Rourou collapsed into the sand. "You took your time."
Li Fan looked into the distance.
The cloaked imperial agent was gone—but a seal remained burned into the rock nearby.
> A warning from the Empire.
---