The forest thinned, and the air changed.
Chen Ho slowed his steps, nostrils flaring. It wasn't the damp green scent of leaves and water anymore—it was acrid, sharp, clinging like burned iron. The dirt underfoot grew brittle, ash-gray.
The Phoenix perched on his shoulder gave a sharp trill, golden eyes narrowing. Its feathers rippled with a faint flame, uneasy but not afraid.
"I know," Chen Ho murmured, scanning the horizon. "This place has seen fire before… not ordinary fire."
He crouched, running fingers across the ground. The earth crumbled like old charcoal, and when he lifted his hand, faint streaks of red pulsed beneath the surface like veins of ember waiting to wake.
The Valley of Ash.
Legends said a beast of fire had fought and died here long ago, its essence burned into the stones. The academy used it as a trial field—any student daring enough to walk into it risked burns and stronger beasts that thrived in scorched lands.
But risk meant profit.
Chen Ho adjusted his pack, the tusks of the Steelhide Boar clattering against his back. "Come, Phoenix. Let's see what lives here."
The First Encounter
A low growl echoed from the valley's edge. Shapes moved through the heat shimmer.
Fire Scaled Apes.
They lumbered on knuckles and feet, skin dark and leathery, but their backs were armored with scales glowing faint red. Heat radiated from their bodies like furnaces, distorting the air.
One spotted Chen Ho and roared, pounding its chest. The others echoed, sparks bursting from their mouths.
Phoenix spread its wings, feathers igniting. Flames leapt outward, answering the apes' challenge.
"Test them," Chen Ho whispered.
The first ape lunged, swinging a burning fist. Chen Ho sidestepped, letting the fist crash into brittle earth, shattering stone. Phoenix darted forward—Flame Peck—its beak striking the ape's exposed neck where scales didn't guard.
The ape shrieked, stumbled back.
The second charged, hurling a lump of molten stone ripped from the ground. Phoenix met it with Fire Feather Burst, the blast scattering burning shards harmlessly into smoke.
Chen Ho drew his knife, eyes sharp. The apes were rank-1, dangerous, but sloppy in groups. He baited them into swings, forcing them to cluster.
"Now!"
Phoenix screamed, unleashing Phoenix Cry. The sound stabbed through the air—sharp, piercing, disrupting rhythm. The apes faltered, clutching their heads.
Chen Ho slashed one across the thigh, Phoenix struck another in the eye. The beasts stumbled, disoriented.
Minutes later, three lay groaning in the dirt, flames guttering from their mouths.
Looting and Training
Chen Ho crouched, blade steady. He pierced chests, extracting three glowing beast cores, each faintly warm to the touch. He pried scales loose, stacking them carefully. Fire Scaled Ape hide fetched a high price—used for armor resistant to heat.
Phoenix perched proudly on a corpse, wings outstretched. Its feathers glowed brighter, fire pulsing steadily.
"Lv.26," Chen Ho noted softly. He fed it a strip of charred meat, letting the flames in its chest stabilize.
He worked methodically: hide, cores, bones. Nothing wasted.
Whispers in the Ash
As he packed loot, voices drifted across the valley.
"…Did you see that?""He fought three Fire Scaled Apes alone. And that bird—its flames didn't even falter.""No way that's just a mutation…""Shut up. Phoenixes don't exist. That thing's a freak, nothing more."
Chen Ho didn't turn. He didn't need their words. He needed their silence when it mattered.
Phoenix ruffled feathers, sparks dancing in annoyance. Chen Ho stroked its head. "Let them think what they want. The less they believe, the safer we are."
Deeper in the Valley
By afternoon, Chen Ho pressed deeper into the valley. The ground glowed faintly beneath cracks, heat rising in waves. Ash drifted like snow, but each flake burned when it touched skin.
Phoenix didn't mind. It seemed stronger here, flames resonating with the land.
Another pack of Fire Scaled Apes appeared, larger than before, their leader's scales glowing almost white-hot. It roared, charging with terrifying force.
Chen Ho's eyes narrowed. This one was stronger—late rank-1, nearly rank-2.
The battle raged across the valley. Phoenix darted and struck, each flame peck sharper, each cry louder. Chen Ho fought with ruthless precision, using broken ground to trip apes, traps to bleed them.
At last, the leader fell, chest pierced by Chen Ho's blade, its roar fading into smoke.
Phoenix landed atop the corpse, feathers blazing gold-red. Its cry echoed through the valley, not just sound but dominion.
"Lv.28," Chen Ho whispered, sweat dripping down his face. His companion had grown again, stronger, fiercer.
Uneasy Silence
As the last ape fell, silence spread across the valley. The air grew heavy, pressing on lungs. Even Phoenix's flames dimmed, uneasy.
Then it came—deep, rolling, ancient.
A roar.
Not of ape, not of boar, not of anything the academy meant for students to fight. It shook the ash from the trees, cracked stones, made the valley floor tremble.
Phoenix stiffened, wings flaring wide. Its feathers burned with golden fire, answering instinctively.
Chen Ho stood still, heart hammering. The roar was far… but not far enough.
Dragon.
Somewhere in the Trial Beast Grounds, a dragon was stirring.
And it had heard the Phoenix's cry.