Chapter: Trial of Spirits – The Ashes of Ironwood
There was no falling.
There was no ground.
Only the shift—a sudden sense of weightlessness as Lin Feng's body dissolved into mist, then into light, then into something smaller than memory.
He opened his eyes.
And breathed smoke.
The scent hit him first—ash, burnt earth, iron blood. Then came the sound: crackling flame, distant screams, the low keening of wind through broken wood.
He knew this place.
Ironwood Village.
His home.
Before everything.
---
The Past Never Dies
The sky above was cracked amber, thick with black clouds. Fires danced across rooftops made of old timber and thatch, the same homes he'd grown up around, now half-eaten by flame. Ash fell like snow.
And in the center of it all—
A boy knelt, fists clenched in the dirt, face streaked with tears and soot.
Lin Feng's breath caught.
> That's me…
He moved forward on instinct, but his feet made no sound. He passed through smoldering wreckage like a shadow. This was no illusion of the senses. It was memory, sharpened and bound to his soul.
Around him, the past played without mercy.
A younger Lin Feng cried over two bodies.
His parents.
Still, still and broken. Their cultivator cores shattered, their clothes scorched by qi burns. Killed not by bandits, but by cultivators. Sect disciples. The colors on their robes—he remembered them even now.
Iron Sect.
His former sect. His betrayers.
---
The Betrayal
The scene changed. As if the sky blinked.
Suddenly he stood inside the Iron Sect's outer courtyard. The air was clean here. Orderly. Hypocritically serene.
Lin Feng saw himself again—older now, no longer crying. Kneeling before the Sect Elder, his broken meridians still bandaged beneath his robe. He remembered this moment.
He had begged.
Begged to stay. To learn. To be fixed.
The elder looked down at him, voice as cold as any frost in the Eternal Palace.
> "Your parents were traitors. Be grateful we let you live."
> "They weren't!" the young Lin Feng had shouted. "They died protecting—!"
A slap cut him off.
The illusion showed it clearly. The boy collapsed sideways, coughing blood.
The elder sneered.
> "The weak do not question justice. The crippled do not earn legacy."
And the gate closed.
Lin Feng, watching from the shadow of memory, clenched his fists. His eyes burned, not from smoke, but from rage.
> "I'm not that boy anymore."
> "Aren't you?"
The voice came from nowhere—and everywhere.
And suddenly, Lin Feng was no longer alone.
---
The Other Lin Feng
He stood across from himself.
Same eyes. Same frame. Same scars.
But less. His aura flickered with shame, hesitation, fear. The part of him he'd buried.
> "You wanted to die," the echo said. "You thought if you just disappeared, it would stop hurting."
> "I was weak then," Lin Feng answered.
> "You are weak. You hide behind anger now, but you're still the boy who begged. Who crawled."
Lin Feng stepped forward.
> "I did crawl. But I stood up."
> "And you think that makes you worthy?"
The echo raised a hand—and the world shattered.
---
Trial by Flame
The ground turned to fire.
The sky fell. Massive embers the size of carriages crashed into the earth. Spirit beasts twisted from ash and flame lunged at him—tigers with molten teeth, wolves made of black smoke, birds with wings of ember-glass.
Lin Feng didn't run.
He moved.
His qi flared—gold and black, then touched with blue frost.
He struck with the Heaven-Crushing Path, fists like meteor hammers. Every beast that lunged, he shattered. Every flame that tried to consume him, he absorbed.
> "This pain made me," he shouted. "This memory forged me!"
> "Then prove it," the echo said.
And charged him.
---
They fought.
Fist against fist. Form against form.
Lin Feng's spirit shook. Every blow cracked the illusion deeper—showing not fire, not beasts, but moments.
Hunger. Rejection. Isolation. Rage. Desperation.
All the things he had survived.
He didn't flinch.
He accepted each one.
And when he finally struck the echo's chest—not with hate, but with understanding—the illusion froze.
The ash stopped falling.
The fire stilled.
And the boy across from him… smiled.
> "Then go," he whispered. "But don't forget me."
And vanished.
---
Awakening
Lin Feng opened his eyes.
He was back in the arena—one of a dozen floating ice platforms above Mirror Lake. Around him, other champions knelt, broken, weeping, or lost. A few had already vanished, erased by the mirror.
But he stood.
Breathing hard. Frost coating his shoulders. His qi pulsing stronger than before.
From the high throne, one of the Elders narrowed his eyes.
> "He endured it…?"
From the far side, Jun Bai watched with cold focus.
And from the highest tower, Lan Xue stood with her eyes closed… and smiled.