The sun of Flameheart Planet blazed high above, casting molten gold across the sprawling Arena of Embersteel.
Banners bearing the Jin Forgeblood Clan's insignia — a crimson flame crossed by a black hammer — fluttered proudly around the massive arena, where thousands of clan members had gathered.
Today was the Tournament of Flames, an ancient tradition for the Forgeblood Clan.
Every youth that had awakened a Warship — no matter how weak or strong — would participate.
This was not only a test of personal strength but a celebration of survival and promise. After all, only 1,000 out of 1,200 youths had succeeded in awakening their warships during the recent Dao Flame Ceremony.
Jin Taixuan, standing quietly among the gathered participants, adjusted his robes, feeling the comforting pulse of his Heavenhammer deep within his spirit sea.
"Calm. Cautious. Controlled," he reminded himself, his heart steady.
He wasn't here to win.
He was here to place — to be recognized, but not feared.
If he showed too much, others would dig into his secrets. If he showed too little, he would lose the first seeds of trust he needed to plant.
---
The first round was simple:
Ship Manifestation Combat.
Participants would summon their warships into spirit-form and battle within an astral projection field created by the elders.
It wasn't full deployment — a safety measure to prevent the deaths of the promising young warriors.
"Participant 89, Jin Taixuan — ready your spirit projection."
Taixuan stepped forward, feeling hundreds of gazes brush across him like waves.
Most dismissed him immediately — a branch family youth, the grandson of a disgraced elder.
No one truly paid attention to him yet.
"Good," Taixuan thought.
He closed his eyes and focused inward.
Within his spirit sea, the dormant core of the Heavenhammer pulsed once, then again, responding eagerly to his summons.
A quiet silver light spilled from him, gathering into a radiant shape.
Unlike the grand, over-embellished ships of others — decorated with spikes, banners, and unnecessary ornaments — Taixuan's warship appeared plain, its surface simple steel-gray, almost unremarkable at first glance.
Yet the sharpness of its silhouette, the perfect weight of its form, and the aura of quiet suppression it radiated were undeniable to any expert.
A few elder judges shifted slightly in their seats, eyebrows raising.
"Subtle but... crafted with precision," murmured Elder Jin Mu, one of the artifact masters.
Taixuan deliberately suppressed 90% of Heavenhammer's true might.
He had even weakened the spirit projection on purpose, making the ship seem like an above-average, but not heaven-defying, warship.
He needed to grow carefully — like a blade hidden beneath silk.
---
The first duels began.
Taixuan was matched against a slightly older youth, Jin Yuwei, whose warship, the Blazing Fang, was a swift, fire-element speed-type vessel.
As the gong rang, Jin Yuwei immediately surged forward, a flurry of blazing strikes lashing out like a whip.
The crowd roared. They loved flashy, aggressive moves.
But Taixuan's expression did not change.
He waited until the last moment — almost inviting the attack — and then, with a twitch of his fingers, the Heavenhammer rotated on its axis and absorbed the blow with its hull, dissipating the flames with a calculated shift in energy flow.
The entire maneuver was silent, efficient — perfectly measured.
Before Jin Yuwei could react, Taixuan counterattacked.
One hit.
A simple concussive blast from the Heavenhammer's bow crushed through Jin Yuwei's defenses, sending the Blazing Fang's projection scattering like shards of glass.
The match ended in less than ten seconds.
---
The arena was silent for a heartbeat before polite applause rippled out.
Not awe — but acknowledgment.
Exactly what Taixuan wanted.
The elders whispered among themselves.
"Stable foundation."
"Solid fundamentals."
"No excess. No flaws."
No one said "genius."
No one said "threat."
Exactly the reaction Taixuan desired.
---
By the end of the first day, Taixuan had won five matches with steady, unremarkable tactics.
No overwhelming displays.
No flashy techniques.
No revealing of his Heavenhammer's deeper systems.
But those who paid attention noticed something:
Every move he made was perfect.
Every energy fluctuation balanced.
Every counterattack timed like clockwork.
---
That evening, back in the clan compound, Taixuan sat cross-legged in meditation, the spirit projection of Heavenhammer hovering silently above his head like a sentient star.
Grandfather will be watching, he thought.
Others too, soon enough. But not yet.
His spirit-sea pulsed softly, and he felt a faint "click" within Heavenhammer's core.
A system… unlocked?
He focused.
A faint blue glyph appeared inside the ship's hidden systems:
> [Legacy Protocol: Emberstorm Node (Locked - 1% Activated)]
Taixuan's eyes widened slightly.
The Heavenhammer was beginning to respond to him — even faster than he expected.
And this was just the beginning.