Author: So I missed the previous chapter or did I not?
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The Celestial Radiance Sect's library was a sprawling chamber of polished stone and towering shelves, each crammed with scrolls and tomes that detailed centuries of cultivation techniques, historical records, and myths. The dim glow of spirit lanterns cast soft halos of light across the room, creating an atmosphere of solemnity and reverence. Few disciples lingered here after nightfall, which made it the perfect place for Liang Feng to search unnoticed.
He moved quietly, his footsteps muffled by the plush red carpet that lined the floor. His heart raced with a mixture of excitement and trepidation as he scanned the shelves, looking for anything that might confirm the rumors he had overheard. Somewhere within these walls, he was certain, lay the key to the trial site—and, perhaps, to his salvation.
His fingers hovered over a scroll bound in faded gold silk, the edges frayed with age. The title, written in bold calligraphy, read: Legends of the Phoenix Clan. Liang pulled it from the shelf and unrolled it carefully, his eyes devouring the words.
"The Phoenix Clan," the scroll began, "was a dynasty of flame wielders said to have descended from the mythical Azure Phoenix itself. Their mastery over fire was unparalleled, and their techniques, imbued with the purity of their bloodline, were coveted by all. Yet their downfall came as swiftly as their rise, brought about by betrayal and greed."
Liang frowned, reading faster. The scroll went on to describe the clan's annihilation at the hands of rival sects, but it also hinted at the possibility that fragments of their power remained, hidden in ancient trial sites scattered across the land. One such site, it claimed, was located deep in the Flame Ridge Mountains, a treacherous range filled with perilous cliffs and dangerous beasts.
"Many have sought the treasures of the Phoenix Clan," the scroll concluded. "Few have returned, and none with what they sought."
Liang leaned back, his mind racing. The Flame Ridge Mountains weren't far—perhaps a two-day journey on foot. The thought sent a chill down his spine. He had heard the stories of demon beasts that prowled those peaks, of cultivators who disappeared without a trace. But what choice did he have? The sect wouldn't help him, and the cursed flame was running out of time.
As he rolled up the scroll, his thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps. Liang froze, his hand instinctively moving to extinguish the lantern on the desk. He crouched low, peering between the shelves as a figure entered the library. The silhouette was familiar—Wei Han.
Liang's chest tightened. Of all people, why him?
Wei strolled into the room, his movements casual but his expression sharp. He wasn't carrying any books or scrolls, and his eyes swept across the library with a predator's gaze. Liang remained perfectly still, his breath shallow, as Wei's footsteps grew louder. Was he looking for something—or someone?
The cursed flame in Liang's palm flickered faintly, and he clenched his fist to suppress it. Not now, he thought. He couldn't afford to be caught. Not when he was so close.
After what felt like an eternity, Wei turned and left, his footsteps fading into the distance. Liang waited a moment longer before rising from his hiding spot, his pulse still pounding in his ears. He couldn't risk staying here any longer. He tucked the scroll into his satchel and slipped out of the library, moving quickly and silently through the sect's shadowed halls.
Back in his quarters, Liang unrolled the scroll again, his eyes tracing the map sketched at the bottom. It was crude, more a set of landmarks than a proper guide, but it was enough. The Flame Ridge Mountains, the Trial of Ember, and the faint symbol of a phoenix etched beside it. His cursed flame flickered in response, as though recognizing the mark.
"This is it," he whispered, his voice trembling with a mix of fear and determination. "This has to be it."
He spent the next few hours preparing for the journey. His satchel was small but sturdy, and he filled it with essentials: dried rations, a flask of water, a bundle of cultivation pills, and a blade he had taken from the sect's armory years ago. It wasn't much, but it was all he had. He couldn't afford to be weighed down, not when speed and stealth would be his greatest allies.
As he packed, his mind wandered to the dangers that awaited him. The Flame Ridge Mountains were notorious for their harsh terrain and the beasts that called them home. Even seasoned cultivators avoided the area unless absolutely necessary. Liang knew he was walking into a death trap, but the alternative—remaining here, waiting for the cursed flame to consume him—was no better.
By the time he finished packing, the first light of dawn was creeping over the horizon. Liang stood by the window, watching as the sun painted the sect's sprawling grounds in hues of gold and red. This place had been his home for years, but it had never truly felt like one. Not since the curse. Not since the others began to see him as something to be feared or pitied.
He turned away from the window, his resolve hardening. It was time to leave. Time to forge his own path, no matter how dangerous it might be.
Slipping out of the sect proved easier than he expected. Most of the disciples were still asleep, and the guards stationed at the gates paid little attention to the lone figure moving toward the forest. Liang kept to the shadows, his steps quiet and deliberate, until he was past the outer walls.
Once he was clear of the sect, he paused, looking back one last time. The Celestial Radiance Sect loomed in the distance, its grand spires reaching toward the heavens. For a moment, a pang of doubt threatened to creep in. But then the cursed flame pulsed in his palm, a sharp reminder of why he had to do this.
Turning his back on the sect, Liang stepped into the forest. The path ahead was uncertain, the dangers immense, but for the first time in years, he felt a sense of purpose. He was no longer running from his curse—he was running toward something that might finally give him the answers he sought.
The trial site awaited, its secrets buried beneath centuries of legend and danger. Liang didn't know if he would survive the journey, but he did know one thing: he had to try.