"Those who burned with me once... will rise with me again."
---
The chamber was silent, save for the low hum of the twin flame sigils on Ash's arms—one crimson, one violet. Their glow pulsed like twin hearts beneath his skin, fed by the awakened Legacy Node and the dormant fury he kept leashed.
Eiran knelt in front of him, hands outstretched over a bowl of flickering ashflame, their voice steady.
> "As Flamebound, I await your command. Reforging the pact will require your blood, Sovereign."
Ash offered his hand without hesitation.
Eiran didn't flinch. A small obsidian blade nicked his palm, and his blood dripped into the flame.
The violet fire hissed, drank deep... and changed.
It turned black.
> [Flamebound Oath Ritual Initiated]
Do you wish to restore the Ancient Flamebound Pact: Scorched Path — Code Name: Sovereign's Will?
Requirements Met (1/7 Flamebound Located, Legacy Node 1 Active)
Proceeding will bind all future Flamebound under your direct soul-seal.
Ash stared into the black flame.
"I accept."
The flame shot upward, splitting the air with a piercing crack. It swirled around Ash and Eiran, enveloping them in silence—and then surged inward, crashing into Ash's soulsea.
He gritted his teeth.
Chains of ash coiled around his soulcore, reshaping themselves into a burning brand—a mark of command, not slavery.
And on Eiran's chest, an identical symbol appeared. Violet and black, shaped like a burning eye with six trailing arcs.
> [Flamebound Pact: Sovereign's Will – Reforged]
New Feature Unlocked: Soul Command – First Tier (Echo Command)
🜂 You may now relay commands to bound Flamebound telepathically across planes.
Trackers active: 1/7 Found. Locating next Flamebound...
A flicker appeared in Ash's vision.
> Tracking Signal: Distant Plane Interference. Nearest Flamebound Detected in... Fallen Star Graveyard (Azure Void Plane). Access currently locked.
Estimated Time to Unlock: Unknown.
Ash rose slowly as the flame dimmed.
The pact was whole again.
His voice was calm, but cold. "One down. Six to go."
Eiran bowed. "And the Sovereign rises again."
---
Three Days Later – Outer Courtyard, Nightveil Clan
Ash stood at the edge of the stone arena, watching as dozens of young cultivators prepared for the upcoming Inter-Sect Examination—a prestigious event hosted once a decade, where the elite young warriors of the lower realms were chosen to join greater sects or be noticed by legacy clans.
Lyra stood beside him, arms crossed. Her robes were deep silver today, trimmed in blood-maroon—an official color reserved for those of command rank.
"You're late," she said, but not unkindly.
Ash glanced at her, amused. "Had to rewrite an oath sealed in ash and time. Couldn't be helped."
Lyra didn't smile, but her eyes flickered with something warmer than before.
"The test begins in two days. The sect envoys will arrive tomorrow—Elias Thorne included."
Ash's gaze darkened slightly at the name.
"The one with the Hollow Flame?"
Lyra nodded. "He's a monster in battle. And more dangerous outside of it."
Ash's eyes glinted. "Good. Then let him see me burn."
---
Elsewhere – Ascending River Sect Camp
Elias Thorne sat beneath a bone-white tree, playing a slow, eerie melody on a silver flute.
Across from him, Kaelen of Nightveil leaned casually on a stone pillar, one hand glowing faintly with pale-gold essence.
"I hear the boy survived the Hollow," Elias said without looking up. "Most would have died screaming."
Kaelen's expression was unreadable. "He's persistent."
"Or prepared," Elias countered. "He had no fear in his eyes. That kind of calm comes from something... older."
Kaelen turned his gaze toward the horizon.
"Then the game begins."
---
Nightveil Clan – Midnight
Ash meditated alone in his chamber.
Eiran sat just outside, guarding the door. Lyra had returned to her quarters after preparing the family's official reception for the incoming sects.
Ash's soulsea was calm—but in its center, a storm brewed.
He dove into it.
> I need more than memory. I need power that answers to me.
The Flame Mark lets me imprint techniques... but the Flamebound Pact? That's command.
He focused, summoning the flame inheritance's first technique.
> [Flame Memory – Combat Form: Ember Coil]
A short-range flame movement art. Allows for triple-step acceleration, with one evasive maneuver locked in soulsea.
Mimicked from the Nightveil Clan's Crimson Step.
He summoned the movement.
His body blurred.
A gust of embers spiraled around him as he leapt, pivoted, vanished—appearing behind a flame-forged dummy he'd conjured. His palm struck.
> [Flame Burst Palm – Initiate Tier]
The flame exploded outward—sharp, precise, and clean.
Not raw rage.
Controlled destruction.
And yet... Ash wasn't satisfied.
> That's not enough. I remember techniques from my old life... higher than anything this realm has seen. But I can't use them yet. The Flame Core hasn't stabilized.
Still, the power was building.
He could feel it.
Something ancient was stirring.
---
The Next Day – Arrival of the Sects
A grand procession flooded into the Nightveil grounds.
Dozens of sect banners unfurled—Stormroot Valley, Iron Orchid Pavilion, Frostmirror Gate. The Ascending River Sect arrived last, bearing white-robed disciples with flowing silver emblems.
Ash stood in formation beside Lyra and other Nightveil heirs.
The air shimmered faintly as Elias Thorne descended from his flying jade platform.
His eyes scanned the gathered prodigies like one might inspect livestock—until they landed on Ash.
And held.
Ash returned the stare, unmoving.
Elias tilted his head, as if trying to recognize a scar hidden beneath flesh. Then he smiled—empty, polite, cold.
"Ash Nightveil," he said, voice smooth. "You survived the Hollow. I'm... impressed."
Ash's voice was ice. "Some things burn hotter than the dark."
Elias's smile didn't waver, but something shifted in his aura. Just slightly.
Then he turned away.
Lyra whispered beside him, "He knows something."
Ash's reply was simple. "Let him wonder."
---
That Night – Inner Sanctuary
Ash gathered several of the Nightveil candidates, training them quietly away from the sect observers.
He didn't care much for the rest—but some, like a quiet girl named Mira and a spear-wielding youth named Riven, showed potential.
Ash began instructing them in minor variations of footwork, adjusting their stances not with words, but with demonstration.
Mira watched closely. "That isn't from the clan style."
"No," Ash said. "It's older."
He stepped again, this time in the Ashen Spiral Form—a forbidden movement art from his past life, banned by sects for its soul-burning recoil if used improperly.
But now, adapted to his Flame Core, it worked.
Perfectly.
Even Eiran, watching from the shadows, narrowed their eyes in quiet approval.
The sovereign was awakening.
And this time, he wouldn't walk alone.
---
End of Chapter 8
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