The early morning sky was painted in strokes of red and gold as Su Chen soared through the air on a thin layer of condensed mana, his cloak fluttering violently behind him.
Three days.
That was all the time left before the gods would descend in full force.
But time wasn't the enemy anymore—ignorance was. And the answers he needed lay hidden in the northern range, where the Crimson Shrine had slumbered for eons.
He passed mountain after mountain, until finally, he arrived at the location burned into his memory by the ancient tome. At first glance, there was nothing—just jagged rocks and snow-covered peaks. But Su Chen knew better. This place was protected.
He knelt on the stone floor and poured his mana into the ground. The moment his energy touched the earth, a series of deep-red runes emerged, spreading in a complex formation.
The mountain shuddered.
A loud groan echoed as stone shifted and slid. Snow cascaded from the cliffs. A large circle of the cliffside receded, revealing a crimson gate, half-buried, ancient, and sealed with a glyph that pulsed in rhythm with Su Chen's heartbeat.
As he stepped forward, the glyph dimmed and the door creaked open.
Inside, it was silent. Stale. The air smelled of burnt incense and bloodline residue.
Crimson torches lit themselves as he entered, illuminating intricate murals carved into the walls. They depicted tall, flame-wreathed warriors standing against titanic gods. At their center stood one figure—cloaked in fire, one hand raised toward the heavens, the other pushing back an invading force.
> The First Crimson Lord.
Su Chen touched the mural, and a shock ran through his fingers.
The flame within him stirred.
A voice followed.
> "Only the worthy shall pass. Prove your fire, or be consumed by it."
The ground trembled. The mural cracked open like a mouth yawning wide, revealing a vast chamber within—a battlefield carved in stone and fire.
Without hesitation, Su Chen entered.
The moment his foot hit the arena floor, the flames roared to life.
Before him, a dozen ancient projections formed—Crimson Flame warriors, each forged of memory and blood essence. Their armor glowed like molten steel, and their eyes burned with testing will.
> "You are but a shadow of our legacy," one spoke. "Show us why you deserve to carry the name."
The trial began.
The first warrior charged, his blade wreathed in flame. Su Chen countered instantly, summoning a flaming lance and spinning it with graceful precision. Sparks burst as their weapons clashed.
The second came from behind, aiming for his back—but Su Chen was ready. He twisted mid-air, ducked low, and released a shockwave that sent two of them crashing against the chamber walls.
More followed.
Su Chen didn't relent.
Each movement was fluid, an echo of techniques from his past life, now enhanced by his awakened flame. But this wasn't just a battle of strength. The warriors adapted. They shifted styles, tested weaknesses, exploited habits.
It was like fighting a reflection of himself—trained, relentless, unforgiving.
Minutes passed. Maybe hours.
Su Chen's breath grew heavier. His mana burned hotter. But his resolve didn't waver.
He spun through a final strike, his arm enveloped in divine crimson, and shattered the last warrior's sword.
Silence fell.
The warriors stepped back.
Then, they knelt.
The lead warrior spoke again.
> "You bear the flame. But the fire alone is not enough."
> "To stand against gods, you must awaken the source."
The chamber shook as the center platform rose. At its top lay a single, ancient crimson shard, floating above a pedestal. It pulsed with terrifying heat—so intense it warped the air around it.
Su Chen approached cautiously. The moment he touched it, his vision blurred.
He was no longer in the shrine.
He stood in a burning sky, fire raining down, gods battling titans, cities crumbling. And above it all, he saw himself—not as he was now, but in a form beyond Tier 11.
Divine. Untouchable.
And at his side, others stood—men and women wielding unique powers, divinity flickering in their eyes.
His allies.
His future.
But the vision shifted again. Their bodies fell. Gods laughed. And the voice of the Crimson Lord spoke in his ears:
> "The gods will not stop. They will not negotiate. They will not spare. This is not a war you can delay—it is one you must end."
The vision shattered.
Su Chen gasped and fell to one knee. The shard burned into his hand, leaving behind a glowing sigil—a mark of Crimson Ascension.
He had passed.
The shrine's walls rumbled one last time. A voice echoed not in his head, but through the world itself.
> "The Crimson Heir has awakened."
> "The true war begins now."
---
Far above, in the Divine Realms…
The gods stirred.
An obsidian throne cracked slightly.
> "So he found it…"
A golden-robed god sneered. "It makes no difference. He has three days, and we have eternity."
Another, faceless and vast, let out a low growl. "No. We move now. In three days, we descend. But in one…"
> "...we curse him."
---
Back on Blue Star…
Su Chen emerged from the shrine, the mark still glowing on his palm. He looked to the sky.
A storm was gathering—not of weather, but fate.
And then, in the clouds above, a single word burned in divine fire:
> "One of us will fall. And it won't be a god."
---
Su Chen's eyes narrowed.
The gods had made their move.
The final three days wouldn't just be preparation…
They would be war.