The battlefield lay silent now. Not with peace, but with exhaustion. Smoldering craters pockmarked the divine terrain, divine flora reduced to ash, celestial rivers diverted from their banks by the sheer violence of unleashed power. Where once gods had fought with grandeur, now the air hung heavy with the cost.
Chen Ming stood atop a jagged rock formation, his Soulflame still flickering gently around him, the heat tempered into calm warmth. His armor was cracked, blood and divine ichor seeping through faint lines—but his stance was unshaken. He looked out across the field, not with pride, but quiet calculation.
Below him, Lanmei helped bind the wounds of a fallen warrior, her divine qi pulsing faintly with healing resonance. Nearby, Ye Yue's expression was cold and unreadable, her silver eyes focused on the fading remnants of a fallen opposing god, her hands still trembling slightly despite her efforts to hide it.
"This was only the opening move," Chen said quietly, to himself more than anyone.
Lanmei looked up at him, sensing the shift. "They'll regroup. The Courts won't accept this defeat lightly."
Ye Yue nodded. "The Divine Courts have always viewed war as theater. But what you did, Chen… You didn't follow the script. You shattered it."
Chen turned his gaze skyward. "Then we make a new one."
In the Flame Court
Panic brewed beneath the marble serenity of the high council chamber. The divine mirrors shimmered with the replay of the battle—Chen's display of power, his Soulflame Unison technique, the moment he tore through three god-tier enemies as if they were illusions.
"This is unprecedented," a stern-faced god barked. "He was supposed to fail—not ascend!"
"Who gave him that power?" another hissed. "What was that flame? It wasn't of any known origin!"
An older goddess, cloaked in veils of crimson flame, merely watched with narrowed eyes. "It wasn't ours… and that is the danger. There is something else moving in this war."
She didn't name Lysaria, but everyone felt the ghost of her presence in that silence.
In the Obsidian Court
The Matriarch's smile was serene—but her claws tapped against the stone armrest of her throne.
"He's ready for the next stage," she whispered. "But his heart still hesitates."
A shadowed figure behind her bowed. "Shall I apply pressure?"
"No… not yet. Let the goddess and the mortal girls wrap tighter around his will. Let them think he chooses freely."
Her eyes gleamed with dark delight. "The longer they believe it's his story… the easier it will be to rewrite the ending."
In Sanctuary
Back at his secluded retreat—a realm now laced with fused energies from his Soulflame Unison—Chen stood before a new altar. Not one for worship, but for evolution.
"I can feel it… the next step," he said aloud, mostly to himself.
Ye Yue appeared behind him, a soft towel around her neck, her robes half-loosened from training. "Then you must take it. Before the Courts force it upon you."
Chen turned. "I'm not even sure what that flame was. It felt… familiar. Like it was mine, but ancient."
Lanmei entered as well, brushing strands of her hair behind her ear. "It resonated with all of us. That flame didn't just burn—it chose. Maybe it's part of something older than the Courts."
Chen smiled faintly. "Lysaria's flame. Or a piece of it."
He sat before the altar, his lovers on either side. Together, they began channeling their essence—not for battle this time, but for unity. For preparation.
In a Far-Off Court
In a lonely shrine buried deep beneath the Sea of Glass, a blindfolded goddess stirred.
"He unlocked it," she whispered, her voice like wind through leaves.
A disciple knelt before her. "Shall we make contact, my Lady?"
"No… Not yet. Let him burn brighter. Let the Courts see their folly."
She smiled faintly.
"And when he reaches the gate they closed to me… I will be waiting."