Chapter 9: The Flame That Judges

Vermilion Palace – Throne Hall, Three Days After Coronation

The throne had been claimed, traitors silenced, but peace never follows a sudden flame—it only draws more shadows.

A scroll arrived on a blade.

Sealed in Azure Hawk wax, it bore the mark of Wu Jianghai, one of the youngest Nascent Soul cultivators in the Eastern Realm.

A formal duel challenge, signed by three sects and stamped by the Eastern Law Monolith.

Kisuke read it and chuckled darkly. "They want to humiliate you. Publicly."

Itachi said nothing. But the narrowing of his eyes spoke volumes.

Tianming stood before the throne, silent. He knew why this was happening.

For decades, the Vermilion Bird Kingdom had weakened under dying monarchs, making it easy prey for Eastern Realm factions. The Azure Hawk Sect, Frozen Jade Sect, and Golden Bamboo Pavilion had long assumed the kingdom would fold into their influence.

But Tianming had taken the throne with no agreement, no tribute, no allegiance.

His very survival threatened their web of control.

"If I back down," Tianming said coldly, "they'll paint me as a child-king hiding behind illusions and tricks."

"If I accept... and fall... they'll chain this kingdom by law."

He turned to the others.

"Then I won't fall."

Shadow Lair – Borrowed Flame

Tianming stood before the ancient Soulfire Brazier, hand wrapped in cloth, blood already trickling down his wrist.

The system pulsed.

[Avatar Protocol: Temporary Fusion – Genryūsai Yamamoto]

Power will not be summoned. It will be borrowed, burned into your core.

Costs:– 4,000 KP– 1 Sunsteel Crown fragment– 3 drops of Vermilion core essence– 1 year of lifespan– 3 months of cultivation degradation risk

He pressed his hand into the flame.

And flame entered him like memory—slow, heavy, eternal.

A voice, gravel and judgment, echoed in his soul:"My fire does not warm. It does not flicker. It ends things."

Eastfang Arena – Duel of Honor

The arena brimmed with power. Tens of thousands of cultivators watched from all corners of the Eastern Realm.

Flags of five sects waved above. The thrones of judgment loomed at the perimeter.

And Wu Jianghai stood in the center—towering, muscled, bare-chested, his falcon Qi wings flaring behind him.

"I will not kill you," he said to Tianming with a sneer."I will break you. Then I'll make your generals kneel beside you."

Tianming entered the ring in black robes, no crown, no gold. His blade looked simple, but its hilt glowed faintly with orange-red heat. "Funny," Tianming replied calmly. "Because I brought a funeral flame. Just didn't expect to use it on you."

Jianghai dashed forward, his aura exploding into the sky—azure falcon constructs screamed down, claws raised, wind blades screaming.

Tianming didn't move. He raised one hand—and snapped his fingers.

No fire came.But the air around Jianghai shimmered and then, his falcon spirits ignited mid-flight, vanishing into smoke.

Jianghai's eyes widened. "What… what did you—?"

"Flame you can't see," Tianming said softly, "is flame you can't run from."

Jianghai growled and slammed both palms into the ground, releasing his full Azure Sky Domain—a storm of wind and illusion and arcs of pressure carved lines through the walls.

Tianming stepped into the gale, cut once casually. The domain collapsed and fire seeped through cracks in the air.

Zanka no Tachi – North: Severing FlameEvery movement burned the spirit, not the skin.

Jianghai screamed—not from pain—but from power loss. His Qi veins began to unweave.

"You… You're killing my meridians… from the inside…"

"No," Tianming replied coldly. "I'm just showing them what arrogance costs."

Desperate, Jianghai screamed and charged, his blade wrapped in hurricane winds, infused with a forbidden technique that cracked the sky. He leapt—striking downward with all his spiritual might.

Tianming inhaled. His eyes flashed red and gold.

A clean line. A slow arc of flame traced the air like a quill writing death. Jianghai landed—stumbled—then froze.

A puff of smoke escaped from his mouth.

Then he collapsed, eyes hollow, soul incinerated.

The Crowd Shifts from Cheers to Silence. Nobles didn't cheer. Sect leaders didn't smirk.

They stared because this wasn't power they understood.

It wasn't strength through muscle or Qi. It was finality.

It was fire with no room for negotiation.

Tianming sheathed his blade, breathing heavy, his hands trembling from inner backlash.

[System Notice]Avatar Protocol CompleteLifespan Reduced: 1 YearSoul Strain Critical – Recovery RequiredCultivation Stability: 48 hours remaining

Tianming turned and looked directly at the viewing platforms.

His voice echoed, low and calm—but unignorable.

"You sent him to humiliate a prince.""But you forgot—I'm not here to impress. I'm here to rule."

"You want a puppet. Find another corpse."

He turned and walked away.