The Emberfold’s Burning Sky
"The Eastern Emberfold has no dawn. Only ashfall that glows like false hope."
— Diary of the Last Flamekeeper, Year 0 A.H.
🔥 Emberfold Awakens
Far across the Hollow Realms, where trees bled sap that caught fire midair, and mountains wept lava instead of rain, the Eastern Emberfold pulsed—no longer sleeping.
A dozen sects had once called this volcanic basin home.
Now only one remained:
The Cinderlight Assembly—a war-sect built not on wisdom, but on the burning of it.
🛕 Arrival at Ashblade Terrace
Jin and his companions stood at the edge of the Emberfold, having crossed through a smoke-hung forest where even the birds refused to fly.
"This place devours patience," Su Ren muttered.
"I can feel my qi boiling."
"That's the Emberfold's test," Ash-Eye said quietly.
"Here, restraint is punished. Only fury survives."
Up ahead, a towering cliff held a city of black glass and burnt prayer-scrolls—Ashblade Terrace.
Its streets burned but never fell.
Soldiers marched in formation, their sabers etched with flame-sigils.
Above them, a sky-rift opened.
A dragon's eye blinked through the clouds.
But this dragon was not a creature of bone or scale.
It was forged of smoke and spirit, bound to a childlike girl who stood barefoot at the center of the terrace, her mouth sewn shut by silver thread.
"Who is she?" Jin whispered.
"The Ember-Oracle," Lin Xue said softly.
"She speaks only once in a hundred years. And only to the one who can calm the Flame-Tide inside her."
"And that would be…?"
"You."
🧎♀️ The Oracle's Trial: Stillness in the Flame
The Oracle raised her hand.
The air exploded into heat.
Jin's vision twisted. Reality cracked.
He stood alone in a landscape of burning memories—each one a version of his past lives where he gave in to rage:
The Jin who slaughtered his sect.
The Jin who accepted flame-cultivation in exchange for revenge.
The Jin who laughed while cities burned.
All of them circled him. Mocking. Tempting.
"What if we were right?" one asked.
"What if silence was weakness?"
"It isn't," Jin replied.
"Because I remember what burning cost."
One by one, he walked into them.
He did not fight.
He accepted.
The flames of his past selves entered him—not as power, but as weight.
The trial ended.
🔥 The Oracle Speaks
The girl's silver thread unstitched itself, drifting upward like ash in reverse.
She opened her mouth and whispered only two words:
"Draconic Accord."
The clouds tore open.
Flames spiraled down—not to harm, but to bind.
You have received: Draconic Accord: Flame Variant
Grants Jin access to "Soulburn Step," a movement technique that leaves behind delayed flame echoes of his actions—confusing enemies with spiritual afterimages.
Grants passage into the Flame Court if summoned by Dragon Lords.
The girl smiled. Her eyes were weeping tears of coal.
"Two dragons now know your name," Su Ren said.
"Soon, they'll start to move."
🛡️ Meanwhile: War-Sects on the March
Back in the Northern Wastes, cold winds howled as black-armored riders crossed frozen bridges made from soul-ice.
The Dead Sect, long buried beneath silence, had awakened.
A thousand spirit-blades hovered behind each rider.
Banners unfurled.
They rode toward the center of the Hollow Realms.
Toward the Hollow Crown.
At the same time, spies from the Moon-Soul Sect whispered to demons in the Western Gravetide, and the Murim clans—now aware of Jin's memory oath—began sharpening not just weapons… but allegiances.
🕊️ Jin's Resolve
Back at Ashblade Terrace, Jin looked out across the burning cliffs.
"There's a dragon in the north," he said.
"And war," Ash-Eye added.
"The kind no one remembers how to survive."
"Then we'll carve a memory into the world," Jin said quietly.
"One they can't burn away."
He turned, the sigils of flame and memory glowing in balance across his back.
Three realms had been touched.
But the Hollow Realm still whispered.
And it was getting louder.