Echoes of the throne

The jungle night hummed with cicada songs, but within Ash's camp, silence had its own voice.

He sat still beside the fire, his gaze locked on the glowing spirit of Vulcan hammering away at invisible metal. The campfire's flickering light danced across Ash's face, lost in thought. Rin had gone to sleep. The stars were hidden behind drifting clouds. But his mind... it was elsewhere.

> I need more strength.

Not just to complete escort missions. Not just to impress the sect or survive beast attacks.

He needed strength for what was coming.

And then, a voice flickered within his mind—calm, ancient, and firm.

> "You're speaking too casually to a spirit, Ash."

Ash didn't react visibly.

> "Shen Mu."

> "Hmph," the spirit grunted. "You forget too easily. Spirits evolve alongside thrones. They're not just tools—they're echoes of your path. Reflections of your power."

Vulcan looked up from his forge, nodded once toward Shen Mu, then vanished in a shimmer.

Ash exhaled.

> "You said spirits evolve. What does that mean for Vulcan… for Mrit and Gorran?"

Shen Mu's voice lowered, turning somber and profound.

> "Mrit's horns have darkened. That beast's power has grown. Gorran's bones are hardening—his golden essence will soon gain spiritual consciousness. And Vulcan... the weapons he forges now are infused with his own evolving soul. These spirits aren't what they were when you first claimed them."

Ash narrowed his eyes. "Does that mean…?"

> "Yes," Shen Mu replied. "When you finally manifest a throne, they will be more than spirits. They will become your guardians—your throne spirits. And you, Ash… you will not stop at one."

Ash's breath caught in his chest.

> "Two thrones?"

> "Your path is split. One by flesh… and one by the dead. A dual throne cultivator… the last time this happened, an empire was erased."

A long silence followed.

---

The Truth of Throne Manifestation

Ash clenched his fists. "Then I need to reach throne manifestation. Fast."

But Shen Mu's reply was cold and cutting:

> "Even if you find fifty Tier 5 beasts, you would only be halfway there."

Ash's eyes widened. "Fifty?!"

Shen Mu's chuckle echoed like a whisper from the grave.

> "You've touched only the surface, boy. Each throne is not a reward—it's a world you must build within yourself. Tier 5 spirits help, yes. But they are rare. And in this realm… you'd be lucky to find five more in ten years."

Ash stood up, pacing. His breathing was shallow now.

> "Then… how do I rise faster?"

> "Patience. Smart growth. Not just battles—but experiences. Killing won't grant you a throne. Survival will. Understanding death, and shaping it."

Ash bit his lower lip. He hated this answer.

He hated waiting.

He hated limitations.

But he understood.

Just then, a faint breeze carried through the trees. Vulcan's forge reappeared briefly, but the spirit didn't speak this time.

He was watching.

Waiting.

Like the others.

---

Back to the Fire

Ash sat back down, facing the flickering flame.

He stared at his palm—then clenched it.

> "I will create a throne… even if I have to drag a hundred spirits from the underworld myself."

Shen Mu sighed in approval. "Good. Because that's exactly the kind of madness you'll need."

---

Ash now understands that throne manifestation is not just a milestone—it's a transformation.

Even his spirits—Mrit, Gorran, Vulcan—are evolving. But the road ahead is longer and darker than ever.

And yet, his resolve is stronger.

The fire has only begun to burn.