The cave beneath the plum tree was deeper than it had any right to be.
As if the roots of the mountain had been hollowed out by something vast… and hungry.
Lu Chan walked in silence, his bare feet bleeding on ancient stone. The Hollow Flame pulsed faintly in his chest, like a second heart. It lit the darkness around him—not with warmth, but with a cold crimson light that seemed to make the shadows twitch and whisper.
Then he heard it.
A growl, low and wet, like gravel grinding in blood.
From the darkness ahead, two yellow eyes opened.
A beast, chained to a slab of obsidian, rose. Scales black as oil, horns like twisted branches, breath reeking of rot and sulfur. It was a creature born in the era before Spirit Qi, before Heaven forged its rules.
A Primordial Devourer.
It should not have still been alive.
Yet it was.
And it hungered.
"A child… with the flame?"The beast's voice was not speech, but a pressure that cracked the stone."You were sent to die. And now you bring me fire? Ah… delicious."
It lunged.
Lu Chan didn't scream. He didn't run.
He raised his hand.
And the Hollow Flame answered.
With a roar that split the cavern in two, the flame surged out, no longer a flicker—but a storm. It did not burn with heat. It devoured sound, light, and soul alike. The creature shrieked—not in pain, but in memory. Its form writhed, shrinking, melting, as if it remembered being hunted by this fire before.
When silence returned, the beast was gone.
Only bones.And a single black scale—glowing faintly—left on the ground.
Lu Chan collapsed, smoke rising from his shoulders. His veins burned like molten iron. His mind saw visions that were not his.
And then a voice echoed from within the flame itself:
"You are not the first bearer.But you may be the last."