The cold wind howled through the ruins of Emberwind Village, scattering ash over the broken stones.
Where a once-proud clan had stood, only silence and smoldering rubble remained.
In the center of the destruction, buried beneath shattered beams and burning embers, a figure stirred.
Bloodied. Bruised. Forgotten.
Seventeen-year-old Lin Xun opened his eyes.
Pain surged through him, but it was the memory of betrayal that burned deeper.
> "You're a disgrace to the Lin clan. We should have killed you years ago."
The words echoed in his ears like curses etched into his soul. He had been cast aside, betrayed by his own blood, left behind to die when the bandits attacked—just another casualty in a war he didn't understand.
But he didn't die.
Not yet.
---
As Lin Xun crawled out from beneath the rubble, his fingers brushed against something warm—a silver ring, half-buried beneath the debris. It pulsed faintly with a heat that shouldn't have been there.
The ring had once belonged to his mother, a woman the clan rarely spoke of. They had called her cursed, a disgrace, a heretic.
He slipped it onto his finger.
A jolt of searing pain lanced through his arm.
> "Blood recognized."
> "Initiating Flame Seal Resonance."
Symbols flared across his skin—ancient runes, glowing with crimson and blue light. For a moment, his vision blurred. The sky burned. The earth cracked.
And deep within him, something awakened.
> Two elements… fire and frost?
His meridians, once sluggish and weak, now surged with raw energy. A flame stirred in his dantian—chaotic, untamed, but alive.
For the first time in years, he felt powerful.
And for the first time in his life, he was afraid of himself.
---
Hours passed.
The fire in his blood calmed, but the ring continued to glow faintly.
Lin Xun wandered through the ruins, scavenging supplies, burying the dead, and collecting what little remained. The village was gone, his clan scattered or dead.
But one thing remained—the resentment in his heart.
He looked out toward the horizon, where the main branch of the Lin clan lived in luxury, untouched by the suffering here.
> "I'll return," he whispered. "Not to beg… but to make you kneel."
He clenched his fists.
The flames in his veins pulsed in agreement.
---
Later that night, while meditating beneath a half-broken statue of a forgotten deity, Lin Xun felt the ring vibrate again.
A voice, soft and feminine, echoed in his mind.
> "Xun'er… if you've found this ring, then I am gone. But my legacy lives in you."
His heart froze.
> Mother?!
> "You are the last of the Emberblood Flame line. Betrayed by the sects, hunted by kings… but destined to rise again. Within you lies the core of a dual-elemental inheritance—Flame and Frost—once thought impossible."
The voice faded.
Tears welled in his eyes, but they didn't fall.
> "Then I'll become what they fear," he muttered. "A demon, a god, whatever it takes."
The night sky seemed to shimmer in response.
And so began his path—from trash to tyrant.