The silence deepened as Kai entered the third chamber.
Unlike the trials before, this space was neither dark nor illusory—it was vast and blindingly white. Marble pillars stretched into the distance, vanishing into a ceilingless void. The floor beneath his feet was polished mirror-glass, reflecting not just his body, but his flame, flickering with threads of red, gold, and black.
Then the voice returned, more solemn than ever.
"Trial Three: The Weight of Power."
A low hum began to echo through the chamber. Then came the ringing—like temple bells, but discordant and warping. In response, a massive stone wheel rose from the center of the room. It was ancient, inscribed with countless names in forgotten tongues, each pulsing with faint energy. At the center of the wheel sat a throne—carved from obsidian and bone.
Kai narrowed his eyes.
A figure sat upon the throne.
It was him again—but older. Hardened. Wreathed in flame so intense it blackened the air around him.
"Welcome," said the alternate Kai, his voice echoing with power that shook the very ground. "You've seen what you could be. What you've lost. But now, look at what you will become."
He rose from the throne and extended his hand. In his palm, a sun ignited—pure, blazing flame that twisted and writhed like a living thing.
"This is the Flame Crown," he said. "The culmination of the path you walk. With it, you will no longer be bound by heaven or earth. You will command armies, bend fate, and reshape the world in your image."
Kai stared at it.
The power was undeniable. Just standing near it made his bones hum with longing. It was everything a cultivator dreamed of: absolute strength.
But then the vision expanded.
The white hall fell away, replaced by a battlefield of ash and ruin. Mountains shattered. Rivers ran dry. Entire sects annihilated by flame. And atop it all stood the crowned Kai, alone, a god without kin, worshiped and feared—yet hollow.
"What is this?" Kai whispered.
"A glimpse of your legacy, should you grasp the crown," the older version said. "You will succeed. You will conquer. But you will lose everything else."
Kai stepped forward, hesitating as the crown hovered just beyond his reach.
"Why show me this?" he asked. "If this is power, why not let me seize it?"
"Because power," the throne-Kai said quietly, "is not given. It is chosen. And every choice bears a cost."
Kai looked again at the ruin, at the empty throne, at the broken stars above the scorched sky.
He clenched his fist. "I did not begin this path for glory. I fight for those I protect. I will not sacrifice my soul to reach the peak."
He turned his back to the throne.
The vision trembled. The fire screamed. And the throne cracked down the middle.
"Trial Three… passed."
The scene vanished, and Kai fell to one knee, breath shallow. A warm breeze touched his cheek as the obsidian floor reformed beneath him. Sweat ran down his brow, but his eyes burned with clarity.
"Two trials remain."
Kai rose again.
This time, he did not look back.