Wind carried the scent of scorched marrow.
Behind Shen Yao, Tower Nine collapsed. Not from battle — from karmic backlash. When an inner elder under divine surveillance was slain, the heavens didn't just mark the killer.
They cleansed the ruins.
Flames licked the edges of the tower's wreckage, devouring the remaining formation scripts and memory glyphs. Whatever secrets Elder Ruo had kept — techniques, scrolls, sins — were now ash.
Perfect.
Let them believe it was Heaven's judgment — not knowing whether it was punishment… or a message.
Shen Yao descended the mountain slowly, his cloak now little more than smoldering strands. He didn't rush. He wanted witnesses. A few inner disciples saw him emerge from the wreckage, half-burned, expression unreadable.
They whispered. And they ran.
Good.
Let the rumors and the smoke rise before the fire.
He wasn't hiding anymore. By the time Shen Yao returned to the outer sect, his name had already reached four elder halls and two Heaven-tied communication orbs.
A ghost, they said.
A fallen genius returned.
A spark of the Ash Vein cursed flame.
Those who mocked his stagnation avoided his gaze now. Those who once kicked dust at his robes dropped to their knees when he passed.
Power didn't need permission.
It only needed to be proven.
That night, Shen Yao sat beneath the Blackthorn Flame Tree, far from the crowded quarters of the disciples. Its bark crackled gently, a rare tree that fed on spiritual fire rather than water.
Lian Xue arrived quietly, her robes dusted with ash.
"You're hurt."
He didn't answer.
She sat beside him anyway. She had grown sharper in the past week. Her flame had become stable — even gentle and unlike before, she didn't rush to heal every scratch on him.
She'd begun to understand some wounds were better left open.
After several moments, she spoke again.
"Did you kill him?"
Shen Yao didn't nod. Didn't look at her. Instead, he opened his palm. A single ember danced between his fingers — red-black, shifting with a sickly glow.
"Karmic Ash," he said flatly. "His flame, his crimes… reduced to this. The first of many."
Lian Xue shivered.
Not in fear but in understanding. She looked down at the ember and whispered, "You'll burn them all, won't you?"
Shen Yao finally turned.
Not cruelly. Not kindly. Just honest.
"I'll burn the path I was denied. Even if it means setting the sky on fire."
[System Alert – Passive Skill Activated: Flame Vein Rebirth.]
Damaged meridians detected. Initiating Karmic Ash conversion…
One Karmic Ash consumed.
Flame pathways restored. Qi circulation improved by 12%.
[Warning: Celestial Surveillance active. Sinflame Ledger concealment recommended.]
He flexed his fingers.
The pain in his arms, a remnant of his clash with Ruo, had dulled to a faint ache. His Qi spun faster now — not just in his dantian, but along his rebuilt inner flame paths.
Flame Vein Rebirth.
He could only use it once per moon cycle but even that was a gift few would ever know existed. This was the reward for burning karma.
Not seclusion. Not purity. Destruction.
And he was far from done.
A week passed.
Shen Yao said nothing of his plans, but his actions moved like fire beneath dry leaves.
He began requesting training spars — not to win, but to learn. He deliberately fought higher-realm outer disciples, gauging their techniques, letting them feel just enough of his strength to seed doubt in their superiority.
By the fourth match, no one accepted his challenges.
By the fifth, they began to fear him again.
Perfect.
He needed fear because the next step wasn't killing.
It was baiting.
On the twelfth night after Elder Ruo's death, Shen Yao stood at the cliffside flame altar, a sacred place where disciples offered essence to the sect's ancestral flame in return for cultivation merit.
Normally, only high-ranked inner disciples came here. Tonight, Shen Yao stood alone, holding an ashen flame stone in his hand.
It pulsed gently — a crystallized ember taken from Elder Ruo's chamber before it burned.
A forbidden object. Brimming with the elder's past sins.
He offered it to the flame altar.
Let the sect's spirits see what they had sheltered.
Let the altar taste betrayal.
He threw it in.
The fire flared black and a voice — ancient, rusted by age and disuse — whispered from the flame: "You… bring impurity to this place."
Shen Yao raised his eyes.
"I bring truth."
[System Notification: Ancestral Flame has reacted to Forbidden Ash.]
New branch skill unlocked: Flame Judgment Pulse.
— Releases a wave of karmic detection across a fifty-meter radius. Reveals hidden flame contracts, betrayal marks, and divine brands.
He turned, and there she stood.
Wei Qingshuang.
Her crimson robes were sharp, her expression sharper. The cold curve of her lips was familiar — the same way she had looked at him before plunging a knife into his chest in his first life. Except this time, the blade wasn't drawn.
"You've changed," she said.
"You haven't," Shen Yao replied.
"You know why I'm here."
"I do."
They stood in silence, tension thick. She was a flame assassin — trained by Heaven's Eye to kill regressors and sinners before they reached their prime.
In his past life, she had killed three Heaven-rejected cultivators before being offered her final mission: Shen Yao.
She succeeded then vanished.
But now?
She was too late.
His system was awake. His flame path had begun and the betrayal in her eyes no longer frightened him.
"You can't fight me yet," Shen Yao said.
Wei Qingshuang tilted her head. "Because you think you're stronger?"
"No. Because I haven't decided whether to kill you… or recruit you."
That made her blink.
Then laugh.
A short, bitter sound.
"You really are mad."
He stepped forward, just enough to make her tense.
"I remember the divine ambush you walked away from. The guilt in your eyes when you stabbed me. You don't kill for pleasure. You kill for permission."
A pause.
"You don't have that permission anymore, do you?"
She didn't answer.
Didn't deny it.
He reached into his sleeve, pulled out a scroll — blank, except for one red line of ash.
A sinflame contract.
"Join me," he said. "Burn what deserves burning. Or try to kill me again."
The wind howled between them then she stepped forward. Took the scroll and lit it with her own flame.
[Flame Mirror Candidate Detected.]
[Mirror of Wrath – Bond Incomplete. Status: Conditional Ally.]
That night, the sect buzzed with rumors of a strange duel at the cliff altar — two figures wreathed in black flame, staring each other down until both vanished into ash.
No one knew what happened.
No one but Shen Yao.
He didn't need followers yet.
But he needed mirrors — fragments of what he once was, reflecting what he could become.
Wei Qingshuang would either burn beside him… or be burned away. To wage war on Heaven, one must first conquer the hell within.