🌋 Ashmere – Grey Chasm Village
A land of scorched stone and ashfall silence. Lava veins hissed beneath cracked ground, and ember-dust flickered across the heavy crimson sky. Even the flame-born winds dared not breathe.
Two figures stood atop the blackened ridge—
One, draped in flowing star-thread robes, surrounded by twelve harmonic spheres.
The other, still as a dormant volcano, his presence bending light, time, and breath itself.
Lìng Tàiyuè narrowed her blindfolded gaze, voice echoing with layered dissonance.
"So... you're the one they whisper about across the voidlines.
The man who dares bind flame to space."
Her silver-sheen fingers twitched. The orbs spun faster, orbiting in distorted harmony.
"They told me to bring back the scripture you forged.
Alive, if possible."
A faint tilt of her head.
"But you already knew that... didn't you?"
Lóng Yántīan said nothing at first. The embers at his feet stirred from a single breath.
Then, his voice answered—calm, grounded, human.
"Of course I knew.
Your Sect has been trying to erase my existence since the day I rewrote the flame."
He took one step forward.
The ground trembled.
The lava veins pulsed like beating hearts.
"But you—Lìng Tàiyuè.
You didn't come here to erase me.
You came because you wanted to see if the stories were true."
She smiled. Faint. Real.
"Maybe.
But I'll still drag your soul back through a rift if you disappoint me."
The wind split apart.
Their figures vanished into the burst—no warning, no grand declarations.
Just impact:
⚔️ Impact One:
Fist met palm. Flame burst outward—only to fold inward against a mirrored barrier.
Lóng Yántīan's punch bent space itself—but Lìng Tàiyuè twisted it mid-trajectory.
⚔️ Impact Two:
She blinked across three timelines in a breath. Appearing behind him—only for Yántīan to spin low, elbow grazing her ripple-body. A clone. A trick.
⚔️ Impact Three:
He thrust straight—raw, pure speed.
Twelve silver orbs rotated.
Mirrorline Drift.
His strike passed harmlessly through her mirage—
Until her heel crashed down from above.
Boom.
The ground cracked. Flames roared.
Yántīan brushed dust from his shoulder, a slow smile forming.
"I see.
You're not just elegance.
You're chaos in rhythm."
Lìng Tàiyuè's voice remained even.
"And you're not just a legend.
You're... unfair."
Then—
Everything changed.
🔥 Behind Lóng Yántīan, a Runic Halo burst into existence—
A red-gold ring spun horizontally, each rotation releasing pure solar flare pressure.
The sky distorted.
🌌 Simultaneously, above him—
A Divine Scroll unfurled.
Threads of space flickered with collapsing timelines, breathing, stretching reality inward, then outward.
For the first time—
Lìng Tàiyuè stepped back.
"You've mastered both...?"
"Fire's Law and Space's Thread—at the same time...?"
Yántīan summoned his spear.
It was not forged.
It was his will.
It burned with Voidflame. It shimmered with collapsing void.
"I told you.
I rewrote the flame.
I bent space to keep it burning."
Across from him, Lìng Tàiyuè's Choir of Diverging Stars spun into resonance.
Twelve silver rings layered around a rotating cube of infinite shapes.
She raised her arm.
"Then I'll show you my truth."
💥
Weapons hummed. Halos spun.
The second clash tore Ashmere apart.
Flame collided with mirrored silence.
Spears clashed with harmonic orbs.
Reality fractured, twisted, bent, and snapped back.
But slowly, surely—
Lóng Yántīan's dual pulse rhythm overpowered her illusions.
He cut through them.
Redirected her.
Outpaced her.
With every impact, Lìng Tàiyuè was driven further back.
"Impossible... your pulse rhythm—it's layered… overlapping... it shouldn't even be stable!"
Yántīan's voice came soft, burning:
"That's because it isn't stable.
It's reborn—every second I breathe."
He stepped forward.
The cracked ground caught fire.
The stars shook.
"You came to capture me, Lìng Tàiyuè.
Now tell me—
Do I look like someone who can be kept?"
The ash floated.
The world held its breath.
Across the scorched plain, Lìng Tàiyuè stood motionless, silver-threaded robes fluttering in the heatstorm.
Her pale lips pressed into a thin line.
Her pulse, sharp and cold, thrummed through the battlefield like the hum of a distant star.
Slowly, she lowered her arms to her sides.
No anger.
No frustration.
Only stillness—coiling, tightening.
Then—her voice, low and layered with echoes:
"I didn't come here to be impressed by your arrogance."
The harmonic orbs around her began to pulse louder, vibrating in dissonant rhythm.
"But I'm done testing.
You will not leave this place."
Beneath her silver blindfold, faint lights flickered behind closed lids.
The silver runes along her arms ignited.
Then her Elemental Beastpulse Armor began to bloom.
🌌 First, her arms—coated in flowing mirrorplate silk, woven with starlit veins.
🌌 Then her torso—layered in translucent astral veils, shifting like water but harder than any earthly steel.
🌌 Her shoulders flared outward, forming spiraling crests of folded space.
🌌 Her legs shimmered, draped in the falling tide of broken constellations.
The air twisted.
Her Choir of Diverging Stars spun into resonance, forming a halo that sang across dimensions.
Lóng Yántīan watched calmly, wiping ash from his palm.
"Already using your Elemental Armor?"
He chuckled, shaking his head.
"Old woman... we're just warming up."
He stepped forward.
The ground cracked.
The air buckled.
With a simple gesture, he lifted a single finger—
First pointed at her.
Then at the scarred heavens.
And whispered:
"Bloom."
🔥 A pulse of heat detonated from his chest.
Rings of flame spiraled outward, each crackling with silver-threaded fire.
The space itself twisted, fracturing in delicate spiderwebs around him.
The Voidflare Regalia began to form.
🔥 Elemental Beastpulse Armor Manifestation – Voidflare Regalia (虚焰战铠)
It started at his core.
Flame sigils blazed to life along his pulse center, spreading outward like solar roots.
Each rune burned with crimson-gold light, spinning faster, faster—
Torso: Spiral-forged flameglass armor fused over his chest, centered on a floating flame-core that hovered above his sternum, linked by living threads of fire.
Arms: Liquid fire cascaded down, hardening into jagged bracers. Each finger shimmered—one move, five echoes. He existed across multiple timelines.
Legs: Blackfire coiled upward from the stone, wrapping his calves and thighs in molten armor, every step leaving a delayed afterimage.
Shoulders: Crescent voidwings unfurled—then collapsed inward, condensing into hovering guards of voidsteel flame.
Helmet: Lightstream rose from behind his spine, folding forward into a dragon-jaw helm, locking over his head, leaving only his burning mouth exposed.
Cape: A living cloak of starlight-inked fire bloomed from his back, drifting like a scroll rewriting reality itself.
Where armor met flesh, no seam existed.
Only radiant bloodflame pulsing beneath skin.
The battlefield changed.
The ashstorm fell silent.
Only pressure remained.
Lóng Yántīan stood alone, wrapped in the full might of flame and space, breathing with the rhythm of collapsing stars.
Across from him, Lìng Tàiyuè's silver blindfold gleamed.
For the first time, her pulse hesitated.
She clenched her fists.
"You weren't bluffing..."
"That armor... is beyond anything the Choir ever recorded."
Yet even as her mirrored harmonics spun faster, she felt it—
His presence wasn't louder than hers.
It was deeper.
Sharper.
Like a blade hidden inside a sun.
Still—she did not retreat.
Instead, she whispered:
"Come forth."
🌌 The air behind her fractured.
Thin silver fissures tore reality apart—forward and backward.
From the breach drifted a creature like a dream:
The Voidscale Shimmerfin.
A colossal spirit koi, transparent and rippling with timelines.
Its scales shimmered with reflected battlefields, like fractured mirrors.
Every movement bent gravity.
Every finstroke distorted sound.
The koi circled her in solemn orbit, the space around it warping like a pool of flowing starlight.
Yántīan tilted his head, a slow grin spreading across his face.
"So it really is the Shimmerfin.
One of the Thirteen finally shows their hand."
He cracked his knuckles.
"Haven't seen that beast in four centuries.
Guess today's a good day to fight something real."
Above, the silver koi opened its jaws—no sound, only pressure.
And then—
A crack tore the heavens apart.
From the rift, hundreds of smaller spirits descended.
Each one—a mirror of the Voidscale Shimmerfin, trailing silver constellations behind them like ribbons.
A hundred spirits.
A hundred echoes.
A hundred realities colliding.
Lìng Tàiyuè opened her arms wide.
"You wanted real, legend?
Here it is."
🌠 The koi swirled into layered orbits, forming a living fractal—a dimensional map of devastation.
Her laughter rang sharp through the burning winds.
"This is what it means to fight a Celestial."
Lóng Yántīan inhaled slowly, firelight burning through his veins.
He cracked his neck, his Voidflare Regalia humming against the shifting air.
"So that's your hand, huh?
One beast and a hundred echoes."
He exhaled once.
The stars above flickered.
"Good."
He raised his hand toward the broken heavens.
"Then let me show you mine."
The ground rumbled—
Space twisted—
And from the fractured rift above him—
It descended.
A low, shuddering growl tore through the battlefield—not from earth, not from sky, but from the void itself.
The ash split.
Lava fell.
Reality tore apart.
And from within—
The Voidflame Imperial Dragon emerged.
Scales of black-crystal voidglass shimmered as the colossal beast broke free from the rift.
Each massive scale pulsed with galaxies trapped in molten glass, rippling across its titanic frame.
Six spiraled horns crowned its skull, blazing like dying suns.
Four wings unfurled—vast, burning sheets that tore through dimension itself.
Each beat of those wings cracked the sky open wider.
Its tail dragged behind it, a serrated ribbon of ruptured space.
And in its eyes—
Twin eclipses.
Whirling, ancient, endless.
The air collapsed.
The battlefield twisted under the dragon's mere presence.
The swarm of Voidscale spirits staggered, breaking formation as raw terror pulsed outward.
Even the ground cracked in long, screaming fractures.
Lìng Tàiyuè's blindfold rippled under invisible pressure.
Her breath caught in her throat.
"...Impossible."
Her voice was a thread of sound swallowed by the storm.
"That's..."
Yántīan finally stepped forward, walking through the raining lava as if it were mist.
The flames curved away from his body, bowing to a greater flame.
He lifted his hand, casually brushing soot from his wrist.
"Voidflame Imperial Dragon."
He said it like a truth older than time.
The colossal beast floated behind him—not flying, not walking—simply existing, and the world bent around its existence.
The hundred koi above Lìng Tàiyuè screamed in harmonic frequencies—an instinctual, panicked song of retreat.
Her face, beneath the blindfold, tightened.
Even her Elemental Beastpulse Armor seemed to flicker under the weight.
"You bonded... that?" she whispered.
Yántīan's eyes glowed with silver fire.
"It chose me.
And you're not walking away with anything today.**"
Without waiting for an answer, he reached back and tapped the dragon's massive forearm.
"Brother.
Take care of her beastpulse and those koi echoes.
Don't hold back.**"
The Voidflame Imperial Dragon let out a deep, seismic growl—
A sound that did not just shake the battlefield, but distorted reality itself.
The sky dimmed.
The stars blurred.
The dragon turned its gaze upward, locking onto the swirling koi formations.
Its wings ignited with voidflame.
Then it moved.
🌌🔥 Battle Unleashed: Sovereign vs Choir
The Voidflame Imperial Dragon rose into the air like a burning mountain.
Flame-ribbons coiled around its talons, each claw leaving afterimages across dimensions.
In one devastating breath, it unleashed a torrent of voidfire upward.
The silver koi spirits attempted to scatter, reform their orbits—
—but the flames curved, twisted, followed them through space folds and mirrored projections.
One by one, they were caught.
Snared.
Incinerated.
The hundred-fold symphony shattered.
Lìng Tàiyuè gritted her teeth, her pulse threads unraveling rapidly to keep up.
She flicked her hands, calling down defensive veils and mirror barriers, but the dragon tore through them like paper.
Below, Lóng Yántīan stood calmly, spear in hand.
He pointed it toward her without speaking.
"Your army's gone.
Now it's just you and me, old woman."
Tàiyuè's fists tightened.
Breath ragged.
Still, she summoned the last reserves of her spatial choir.
She raised her hands high.
🌠 Heaven Supreme Technique:
Stellar Requiem – Symphony of Fractured Orbits
The battlefield lit up with seven concentric rings of harmonic distortions.
Light bloomed into false suns.
Phantom realities bled through, creating dozens of mirrored Yántīans moving in chaotic orbits.
Beams of compressed gravity rained down—each targeting his elemental core and beastpulse threads.
The ground cracked open in star-shaped ruptures.
Yántīan narrowed his eyes, then smiled slightly.
"Nice trick."
He lifted his spear.
🌌🔥 Heaven Supreme Technique:
Heavenpiercing Eclipse Fang
The air froze.
Every timeline, every distorted mirror around him locked in place—frozen by his flame-space domain.
Seven burning spears split from the main shaft, rotating like a dragon's jaws around the battlefield.
The clash was cataclysmic.
Phantom suns exploded.
The mirrored orbits shattered like glass.
Tàiyuè's defenses buckled one by one, collapsing inward.
She tried to retreat—
—but the Voidflame Imperial Dragon roared downward, crushing her space-folding paths.
A final flaming spear descended, shaped like the fanged maw of a dragon—
Impact.
The battlefield ruptured in a spiral of flame and shattered stars.
🩸 Collapse
When the dust cleared—
Lìng Tàiyuè lay crumpled against a broken ridge, blood streaking from her mouth.
One arm—gone.
Her breath—shallow.
Her beastpulse, the Voidscale Shimmerfin, whimpered lowly, circling her in a defensive cocoon before dissolving back into her body.
She had lost.
Ashmere fell into broken silence.
Yántīan exhaled once, steady, his spear cracking the ground as he leaned it casually over his shoulder.
"You fought well.
Better than most."
He turned away, ready to leave—
When—
A deeper, older voice shattered the ruins:
"You dare injure a Voidheart Elder?
Today, you will not leave alive."
The sky fractured.
Gravity warped.
From above descended a figure wreathed in dimensional rift-light—
Xū Míngluò.
The First of the Thirteen Null Stars.
His mere presence bent the battlefield into layered semi-realities.
Floating silver cubes hung in orbit around him, warping space itself.
He landed lightly—soundlessly—next to Lìng Tàiyuè's broken body.
He didn't look at her.
His cold gaze pinned Yántīan in place.
"Hand over the Heaven's Twin Pulse Scripture, Flamebender.
Or vanish."
The Voidflame Imperial Dragon shifted beside Yántīan, growling low.
Both man and beast were exhausted—divine armor cracked, power spent.
Yántīan wiped blood from the corner of his mouth and smiled thinly.
"Come take it, then."
A low hum vibrated through the cracked battlefield.
Space itself wavered under the pressure of two Sovereign forces about to collide.
Xū Míngluò narrowed his eyes, raising a single hand.
The silver cubes orbiting him aligned with surgical precision—
a dimensional array woven from pure void law.
No grand preparation.
No flourish.
Just pure, absolute intention to erase.
The Voidflame Imperial Dragon lowered its colossal head beside Yántīan, its scales dulling slightly.
Its breath steamed through split dimensions.
Even wounded, its presence defied reality.
Yántīan gripped his spear tighter, the flames along its shaft flickering weakly.
His voice was low but unwavering:
"Brother.
One last roar.
Together."
The dragon rumbled in answer—deep, resonant, eternal.
Yántīan's body ignited.
Not with external flame—
but from within.
The last reserves of his Pulse Soul erupted.
🔥🌌
He stepped forward, dragging his broken spear behind him, flame and space distorting around each footstep.
His Runic Halo—cracked and flickering—spun once more.
His Divine Scroll—shredded and bleeding threads—flared in defiance.
Above, the Voidflame Imperial Dragon rose higher, its broken wings unfurling one last time.
Together, man and beast roared—
"Heavenpiercing Eclipse Fang!"
The spear was lifted high.
The flames around it didn't burn—they devoured the very laws of reality.
Space folded inward, collapsing into a spiraling singularity.
Seven mirrored spears erupted from the main shaft, each trailing ribbons of flame and void-thread.
They launched, ascending, before hurtling down toward Xū Míngluò like a meteor swarm.
Each spear sang with the weight of a dying star.
🌌 Voidheart Counterstrike: Voidfang Severance
Xū Míngluò exhaled softly, almost pityingly.
He raised two fingers.
The silver dimensional cubes around him pulsed—then melted into pure threads of void essence.
He whispered:
"Voidfang Severance."
A crescent spiral of pure silence formed before him.
No sound.
No light.
Just a sliver of null-space—the embodiment of Nothing.
He swung his hand once.
The Voidfang Severance tore outward, slicing not through the spears—
—but through cause itself.
The flaming spears unraveled mid-flight, disintegrating into dust long before they could reach him.
The Heavenpiercing Eclipse Fang—shattered.
The Voidflame Imperial Dragon reared back, roaring defiance, but the Voidfang Severance tore across its chest in a clean, soundless arc.
The beastpulse shuddered.
Cracks spiderwebbed across its body—
the galaxies trapped within its scales collapsed into oblivion.
It roared one last time—
—a roar that echoed across all the torn dimensions at once.
Then it dissolved.
Its body shattering into a storm of ember-dust and severed timelines.
Gone.
🩸 Fall of the Flamebender
Yántīan staggered forward, half-collapsing.
The light in his eyes flickered, but he forced himself upright.
He still stood.
Still faced his enemy.
Xū Míngluò descended toward him, unhurried, unchallenged.
"You're finished."
"The Heaven's Twin Pulse Scripture belongs to the Voidheart now."
Yántīan laughed—ragged, bloody.
But a laugh nonetheless.
"Wrong."
He opened his palm.
Floating above it—
a small, pulsating ring of intertwined flame and space laws.
The Heaven's Twin Pulse Scripture.
It spun slowly, burning brighter than the sun, yet infinitely deep like the void.
Xū Míngluò's eyes narrowed.
He lunged forward, palm outstretched.
But—
Too late.
Yántīan clenched his fist.
The Scripture flared once—
then dissolved into a spiral of flame and thread.
The energy rushed downward—into the very soil of Ashmere.
Into the veins of the land.
Into the future.
A seal took shape.
An invisible fortress woven from space law and fire law together, hidden deep within the heartbeat of the continent itself.
Ashmere would carry the scripture.
Guard it.
Until a worthy soul could awaken it.
Yántīan smiled through the blood dripping from his lips.
"Come find it, Voidheart...
If you can."
Xū Míngluò's expression twisted into something cold and dangerous.
He raised his hand again—
A second Voidfang Severance—even sharper—whirled into existence.
With a single movement—
He swung.
The world split apart.
The blackened ridge cracked open into a deep abyss.
The sky fractured into mirrored shards.
Ash and emberstorm spiraled into the collapsing space above.
At the center of it all—
Lóng Yántīan's body, armor shattering, blood turning to light.
He knelt.
Still smiling.
Still unbroken.
Then—
he dissolved into sparks.
His soul scattering into the void.
Gone.
🌑 Ashmere's Silent Requiem
When the collapse settled, only silence remained.
Floating above the ruins—
A single ring.
A fragile remnant of flame-threaded space, shimmering gently.
Xū Míngluò stared at it.
He hesitated.
For a heartbeat, confusion flickered across his face.
He reached for it.
But the ring—
folded inward.
Vanished.
Swallowed by the hidden pulse of Ashmere itself.
The Heaven's Twin Pulse Scripture was sealed.
Beyond reach.
Beyond corruption.
Waiting.
Xū Míngluò exhaled coldly, turning away.
He grabbed the unconscious Lìng Tàiyuè, still battered and broken, and tore open a rift in space.
Without a backward glance—he stepped through.
Gone.
Ashmere remained.
Silent.
Broken.
But not defeated.
A faint warmth flickered beneath its soil—
—a promise, glowing unseen:
One day, the flame would rise again.