The academy buzzed with whispers the next morning.
"Did you hear? That boy from the Zhen Clan—he passed alone!"
"They say he used a flame that burns the soul…"
Zhen Zenin paid no mind to gossip. He stood beneath a tree near the practice field, calm as a lake. His robes fluttered in the wind, the white flame hidden beneath his skin.
He was already planning his next move.
The Golden Core Realm was still far. But now he had resources, access, and the academy's name to move freely within Shang City.
---
That evening, a man in dark robes approached the elders' quarters. His face was hidden beneath a raven mask.
He bowed. "Elder Qing, the Raven Sect sends regards."
Qing narrowed his eyes. "You come earlier than expected."
The masked man chuckled. "We felt a familiar presence. A dangerous one."
He placed a scroll on the table.
"A white flame. Soul-burning. A forbidden technique that should have died with Xiong Shen. And now... it has returned in the body of a mere boy."
Elder Qing's expression shifted.
"You believe he is connected?"
"We believe he is him."
---
Meanwhile, Zenin entered a silent chamber beneath the academy—granted to top scorers of the beast trial. He sat cross-legged and pulled out a small jade scroll containing a basic Foundation technique.
"Not enough," he muttered.
He closed his eyes and began to modify it, recalling ancient techniques he once created in his former life. Flames whispered across his arms. The air grew heavy.
"Soon… I'll build my foundation my way."
---
Outside the city walls, a caravan was ambushed.
Men in crimson armor fell one by one—throats slashed, flames tearing through chests.
A cloaked figure stood atop the wreckage, holding a list.
On it, a name was circled in blood:
Zhen Zenin.
---