The sea dragon let out a guttural growl—a sound that rumbled through the water like thunder trapped beneath stone. Its body convulsed, then collapsed into a cascade of flickering blue-golden fire. The flames curled upward, twisting into a serpentine form—alive, untamed, and humming with ancient will. It hovered above the lake's center, casting long shadows on the rippling surface, its glow reflecting off mossy boulders nestled at the lake's edges.
A voice echoed faintly from the flame, as if whispered from the water itself.
"Now it is up to you… and your consciousness."
Below, Mike floated slowly toward a wide, flat stone embedded into the lakebed—its surface carved with faded glyphs and cracked by age. Weeds drifted lazily around him, brushing his limbs like silent guardians of the deep. He crossed his legs, the cold stone biting into his skin. With eyes closed, he gathered what strength remained.
His breaths were uneven. His lips trembled.
"Step one," he muttered, voice barely a ripple, "stabilize the body and mind."
Above, the sky was a sheet of dull gray—clouds moving like bruises across the heavens. Wind rustled through pine trees lining the shore, their long, needled branches leaning toward the lake like curious spectators. A lone leaf drifted onto the surface, spinning in slow circles.
Mike inhaled sharply. Cool spiritual energy flooded into him through the lake's crystalline waters, dancing along his meridians like icy threads. The lake rippled in response—small waves converging on his position, as though the lake itself was breathing with him.
"Step two... absorb the energy."
The serpentine flame pulsed once. Mike lifted his hands.
The flame shifted, hesitant. It drifted closer—not like prey, but like a coiled predator deciding whether to strike or submit.
On the shore, tension hung thick as fog.
Tall blades of grass swayed at the feet of the Qingjian cultivators. Their robes fluttered restlessly in the mountain wind. They glanced at each other, silent yet furious—eyes fixed on the glowing silhouette in the center of the lake.
"He's refining the Sea Dragon Flame…" one whispered, his voice tight.
"That was ours!" barked another, stomping the gravel with his heel, sending small pebbles skittering down the embankment.
Qingjian Lanyu's expression twisted with frustration. Strands of her dark hair clung to her cheeks in the damp air. She pointed toward the lake with a trembling hand.
"Old geezer," she snapped, "you really think you can stall us forever?"
Jian Dao stood near a twisted willow tree, its drooping limbs brushing his shoulders like silk threads. His hands were clasped behind his back. His robes—dappled in dirt and torn at the sleeve—fluttered gently.
"Lass," he said, voice low and calm, "what lies below is not a game. Break the balance now, and you doom him."
Suddenly, a flare of red light snapped between them.
Huo Chuntian stepped forward, flame licking from his knuckles. His coat was half-unbuttoned, soaked with dew, his boots splattered with mud from the recent rains.
"If they interfere, Mike could die," he growled. "Jian Dao—seal the lake."
With steady motions, they inscribed sigils into the air. Threads of light spiraled from their fingertips, forming a golden dome above the lake. The water beneath shimmered like glass beneath moonlight.
Deep under the barrier, Mike shuddered.
A heat had ignited within—unforgiving, volcanic. He arched forward, clutching his gut. Blisters swelled on his arms. Thin lines of blood trailed from his cracked lips.
Inside his chest, he saw it—his heart wrapped in thick, fiery chains. The flame had no intention of being mastered. It was carving him open.
Then everything fell away.
The lake vanished. The stone beneath him dissolved into mist.
He was adrift in a void of deep water—black as obsidian, endless. No stars above. No reflection below. Just water pressing against him from every side, cold and unyielding.
He floated, arms spread.
"Where... am I?" he breathed. His voice came back to him faintly, swallowed by silence.
A ripple passed through the dark.
The Sea Dragon emerged—smaller, wilder, like a ghost of its former self. Its eyes burned with fury. Its scales shimmered with every hue of the ocean.
"You want to refine me?" it snarled. "Then die with me!"
Mike clenched his fists.
"If I fall here… who will protect them?"
He opened his arms, letting the ocean's energy pour into his body. His veins lit up like rivers of molten sapphire. The flame surged toward him—and entered.
His soul screamed. And healed.
Above the water, the barrier shook.
BOOM!
A ripple of golden energy cracked the shoreline.
Qingjian cultivators hurled spells and steel toward the dome. Jian Dao hissed between his teeth, flicking his sleeves—miniature swords of light whistled through the air like angry hornets, knocking the attackers back.
Huo Chuntian leapt onto a boulder, robes flaring. "You want war?! I'll show you fire!"
He raised both arms. Fire spiraled into a tornado of red. The Fire Turbine Technique ignited the sky.
With a deafening CRACK, the flame exploded outward—flattening trees, torching shrubs, and vaporizing the enemy front.
Silence returned—save for the crackling embers floating through the twilight air.
Two months later...
A thin mist hovered above the lake's surface. Wildflowers grew along the shore, yellow and pale blue. The trees were taller now, untouched since the battle.
Jian Dao lay back on a thick branch of an old pine, picking at his teeth with a twig.
Huo Chuntian sat below, tracing lines in the dirt with a charred stick. "He's taking his time."
Then the lake stirred.
A pulse of warmth rippled outward. Fish scattered. The clouds parted slightly. And then—
FWOOSH!
A column of golden-blue flame erupted skyward, lighting the valley in an ethereal glow. Waves roared, slapping against the rocks.
Jian Dao sat bolt upright.
A figure emerged—his silhouette cloaked in blazing fire.
Mike hovered above the water. His body was laced with delicate patterns of glowing scales. His hair, now longer, streamed behind him like silk. His eyes were brighter than the flame—waves danced inside them.
He descended slowly, feet touching the water's surface without sinking.
He had succeeded.
Not with the full Sea Dragon Flame. But its first incarnation: The Sea Snake Flame.
It coiled around him like a spirit. Gentle. Loyal. Lethal.
Jian Dao chuckled. "You've done what an entire sect couldn't."
Elsewhere…
The black forest was quiet—too quiet.
Thick vines clung to warped trees. The sky above was barely visible through the dense canopy. The air reeked of wet moss and rotting wood.
At a crumbling stone shrine, three figures stood cloaked in darkness. Not even insects dared draw near.
Ru Fenglie stood near a shattered statue, brushing moss from his boot. Bao Wuhen leaned against a dead tree, arms folded.
Between them, Han Zetsu's eyes glowed beneath his mask.
He pointed south.
"The bird's spirit is weak. I'll strike."
Ru grinned. "I'll handle the old man."
Bao Wuhen looked away. "Then the boy is mine."
Ru's grin faltered. His voice lowered.
"There's something about that kid… something I remember."
A leaf drifted past them. No wind. No sound.
Han Zetsu's eyes narrowed.
"Then we crush him… before that something awakens."