The sky over Hollow Wind Valley was clearer than usual.
Almost serene.
But every elder, disciple, and rogue cultivator who had gathered beneath that blue canvas knew the silence was a lie.
It was the kind of stillness that came before fire.
---
Shen Liun stood before the mountain's assembly hall, overlooking hundreds of cultivators—many of them injured, unpolished, or only recently awakened to their paths.
Some wore ragged robes from lost sects.
Others bore the scars of imperial brands that marked them as criminals.
But every single one of them had followed one name.
> Liun.
And now that name was a beacon.
Or a target.
---
Ranyi stepped beside him, clutching the latest scouting report.
"More than a dozen small sects have agreed to lend support," she said. "But they're scattered. Most don't have the strength to stand against even a single Immortal."
Liun nodded. "Then we don't ask them to die. We ask them to believe."
She looked at him sideways. "That's not something cultivators do easily."
Liun's gaze was steady.
"Then we show them what it means."
---
Down in the valley, preparations had begun.
Wards were drawn along the mountain passes. Training fields filled with volunteer disciples. Smiths reforged ancient weapons pulled from sealed vaults. A low chant echoed from the center of the valley—
> "Rise in flame. Fall in ash. Rise again."
They called it the Ashen Oath.
Not every sect took it.
But enough did.
Enough to ignite a fire.
---
Elsewhere, deep in the capital of the Empire, the Twilight Hall opened for the first time in over a hundred years.
Beneath its gold-veined floor and sapphire dome, three figures emerged from meditative isolation.
The first wore robes stitched with time itself—an aura so ancient the hall's stones bowed under her feet. Her name was whispered even among legends:
> Immortal Ruya, Keeper of Stilled Light.
The second floated inches above the ground, blindfolded, his arms covered in celestial runes that pulsed like breathing stars.
> Immortal Qianxu, the Star-Sealed Prophet.
The last was quiet, dressed in black with no sigils, no presence, no aura.
Yet the room darkened as he walked.
> Immortal Yan Tian. The Empty Flame.
These were not cultivators.
They were forces.
And they were bound by only one law:
> "When the Edict is invoked, all rebellion must end."
---
As they stood before the Eternal Throne, the emperor himself spoke only one sentence:
> "Bring me the flame that dared defy Heaven."
---
Back in Hollow Wind Valley, Yan Wudi sat with Liun beneath the open sky, their tea untouched.
"You've never faced an Immortal before," Wudi said.
Liun nodded. "But I've faced Heaven's wrath."
Wudi shook his head.
"They are worse. They are Heaven's indulgence. Proof that the world allows monsters as long as they wear crowns."
Liun glanced sideways. "Are you afraid?"
Wudi stared at the rising moon.
"I'm afraid you won't survive long enough to change things."
Liun said nothing.
Then: "Then I'll make them remember me, even if I fall."
---
That night, a flicker of golden flame spread from the summit of the valley—then down the mountain walls, across the rivers, into the wind.
A beacon.
The Ashen Verdict's call to all those who had been forgotten, cast aside, betrayed, hunted, or broken.
> A call to rise.
---
Far away, deep in the sky, Immortal Qianxu opened his blindfold.
Though blind, he saw.
And in the vision of fate, he whispered:
> "The flame burns higher than expected."
Immortal Ruya closed her eyes.
"We adjust."
Immortal Yan Tian said nothing.
But from his sleeve, a black coin fell.
And where it landed, the earth split into ash.
---
The Edict had begun to march.
And soon…
They would arrive.
---