For three hundred years within the Crescent World, time flowed differently. While the outside world changed, Yue Ling remained hidden—refined, sculpted, trained like a blade yet to taste its first battle.
Grandfather Yue trained her with relentless devotion. He taught her how to refine mechanisms, how to balance the power of medicine, and how to forge strength with discipline. The day he entrusted her with the Fourth Top Quality Fire, the spiritual flames didn't just merge—they evolved. Combined with her Spiritual Fire Root, they surged into something greater… something only the ancients whispered about—the Second Supreme Flame.
"Again," Grandfather Yue barked as he tossed another beast into the arena—a snarling, flame-resistant shadow creature. "Kill it, refine the core, and extract the essence. We do not fear. We learn."
Covered in blood and sweat, Yue Ling stood tall. Her once-childish features now held sharp grace, tempered by time and trial. From Level 2 to Level 7—she had crossed impossible thresholds.
Then came the day everything changed.
"It's time I passed down the true art of our Yue bloodline," Grandfather Yue said solemnly. "This world you see—I created it. Our bloodline holds the ancient power to refine small worlds, create deathless traps, and birth tools that can save or destroy. But this power must never be abused."
Yue Ling blinked in disbelief. "Then… why did mother die, if she had such strength?"
Grandfather Yue turned away, hiding the shadow in his eyes. "You'll understand soon."
He paused. "Before we leave for the outside world, you must choose your disguise—what form your refining tool will take. Your mother's scarf was beautiful… but it also became her curse. What will yours be?"
Before Yue Ling could respond, a sharp voice cut into her thoughts—echoing from deep within her mind.
"Idiot! Don't pick the scarf! It may kill you just like your mother. Use a flower petal. A flower petal—simple, pure, underestimated."
Yue Ling gasped. "Who… said that?"
She turned to her grandfather. "Can people hear voices when cultivating?"
Grandfather Yue chuckled softly. "No. Only madmen and dreamers."
But his gaze lingered on her a little too long.
That night, Yue Ling lay on her bed, but sleep evaded her.
"Use a flower petal… use it," the voice whispered again, insistent, almost desperate.
The ancient ring, disguised as her earring, pulsed faintly, glowing with a hidden fire. It was more than a tool—it was part of the Yue Refining Art itself. A sentient relic, awakened by her bloodline.
But why was it warning her?
What secret had her mother taken to the grave?
And why… did her heart feel like it was about to be split between destiny and truth?