The chamber erupted into chaos the moment Liang Feng grasped the hilt of the sword. The walls trembled, their intricate carvings glowing with fierce intensity, and the cursed flame in his palm flared uncontrollably. The voice that had demanded his worth roared again in his mind, its power suffocating and overwhelming.
"Prove yourself, or be consumed!"
Liang felt the blade in his hand come alive. It was heavier than he expected, its dark, glass-like surface radiating a cold that bit into his skin. The cursed flame surged, reacting violently to the weapon. Heat and frost clashed within him, sending shockwaves through his body. He staggered, his knees threatening to give way, but he held on, his grip tightening on the hilt as if his life depended on it—because it did.
Suddenly, the chamber transformed. The spiraling staircase, the ornate carvings, the altar—all of it dissolved into a vast, barren battlefield. The sky above burned with the same fiery hues he had seen upon entering this dimension, but now it churned violently, casting streaks of molten light across the ground. Jagged rocks jutted from the earth, their edges glowing as if freshly forged in a furnace. And in the center of this battlefield, facing him, was his opponent.
It was a shadowy figure, its form wreathed in dark flames that licked hungrily at the air. The figure moved with an unnatural grace, its burning eyes locked onto Liang. In one hand, it wielded a blade similar to the one Liang now held, its edges crackling with energy that made the air itself hiss and warp.
"Prove your worth," the voice repeated, this time emanating from the figure itself. The flames surrounding it flared, and it lunged.
Liang barely had time to raise his sword. The clash of blades sent a deafening shockwave across the battlefield, and the force of the impact nearly knocked him off his feet. His arms trembled under the sheer power of the blow, but he gritted his teeth and pushed back.
The figure moved relentlessly, its strikes precise and unyielding. Liang was forced to retreat, each step backward a desperate attempt to find an opening. His cursed flame flickered erratically, struggling to match the intensity of his opponent's dark fire. The battlefield around them seemed to respond to their fight, the ground splitting and the air growing heavier with each exchange.
Liang's breath came in ragged gasps. He could feel the cursed flame draining him, its wild energy demanding more than his body could give. His opponent, on the other hand, showed no signs of slowing. Its movements were fluid, its strikes unrelenting. Liang's blade met each attack, but he knew he was losing ground. His arms ached, his legs burned, and his vision blurred from the strain.
A particularly vicious strike sent Liang sprawling to the ground, his sword clattering away from his grasp. He landed hard, the impact driving the air from his lungs. The shadowy figure loomed over him, its blade raised high, ready to deliver the final blow.
"Is this all you are?" the voice taunted, its tone dripping with disdain. "Is this the extent of your worth?"
Liang's chest heaved as he struggled to rise. His body screamed in protest, but he refused to give in. The cursed flame flickered weakly in his palm, its light dim and faltering. Desperation clawed at his mind. He couldn't lose here. He couldn't fail.
As the shadow's blade descended, something within Liang snapped. A surge of emotion—fury, defiance, and an unyielding will to survive—ignited the cursed flame. It roared to life, its crimson light consuming him and flooding the battlefield. The heat was unbearable, yet Liang welcomed it, drawing strength from its ferocity.
In a blur of motion, he rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding the strike. His hand shot out, reclaiming his fallen sword. The weapon burned in his grasp, the cursed flame merging with its dark surface until the blade itself seemed to come alive. Liang rose to his feet, his eyes blazing with determination.
The shadowy figure hesitated, its fiery gaze narrowing as it assessed the change in its opponent. Liang didn't give it time to react. He surged forward, his blade slashing through the air with newfound strength. The clash of their weapons sent sparks flying, but this time, it was Liang who pushed his opponent back.
Each strike he delivered carried the weight of his resolve, each swing an echo of his inner battle against despair. The cursed flame burned brighter, its chaotic energy no longer a burden but a weapon—a reflection of his unyielding will to survive.
Liang's thoughts raced, a torrent of fear and determination. I've come too far to fall here. If I lose, I lose everything… everyone. His vision blurred as sweat dripped into his eyes, but he refused to falter. With every step, he felt the cursed flame's heat surge through him, giving him strength even as it drained him.
The battlefield trembled under the weight of their clash, the ground splitting with each collision of their blades. Fire and steel blurred together, creating arcs of light that seemed to tear through the churning sky above. Liang's muscles screamed for relief, his body threatening to collapse under the strain. But he pressed on, his thoughts a mantra: Not yet. Not like this. Not while I can still fight.
The turning point came when Liang saw an opening—a fleeting moment of vulnerability in his opponent's defense. He seized it without hesitation, his blade cutting through the shadowy figure's dark flames. The figure staggered, its form flickering as if struggling to maintain its shape.
With a final, desperate strike, Liang drove his sword through the heart of his opponent. The battlefield erupted in a blinding explosion of light and heat, the force of it knocking him off his feet. He landed hard, the cursed flame in his palm sputtering before finally settling into a steady glow.
When the light faded, the battlefield was gone. Liang found himself back in the chamber, the sword still clutched in his hand. The oppressive energy that had filled the room was gone, replaced by a profound stillness. The carvings on the walls glowed softly, their light casting gentle shadows across the stone.
Liang's chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath. The sword in his hand felt lighter now, its cold surface no longer biting into his skin. The voice that had commanded him was silent, its challenge fulfilled. He had proven his worth.
As he stood, unsteady but victorious, a new light caught his attention. It was faint at first, a soft glow emanating from outside the chamber. Liang turned, his curiosity piqued despite his exhaustion. He stepped toward the light, his movements slow and deliberate.
Exiting the chamber, he found himself on a narrow balcony that overlooked the fiery expanse of the alternate dimension. But it wasn't the view that held his attention. Below, nestled in a cradle of jagged stone, was the source of the light.
A phoenix egg.
It glowed with an otherworldly brilliance, its surface swirling with vibrant colors that seemed to shift and dance like living flames. Liang's breath caught in his throat as he stared at it, the cursed flame in his palm flickering in response. He could feel the raw power radiating from the egg, a power that resonated with something deep within him.
As his fingertips brushed the surface of the egg, a sudden crack echoed through the chamber. Liang froze, his breath catching in his throat as a thin fracture raced across the glowing shell. The light intensified, spilling out in brilliant beams that painted the walls in shifting hues. The cursed flame in his palm flared in response, as if resonating with whatever stirred within the egg.
The crack deepened, spidering outward with an almost deliberate rhythm. Liang took a step back, his heart pounding. The air grew thick with power, a palpable force that made every hair on his body stand on end. And then, with a final, deafening crack, the egg split open.
From within, a shape began to emerge, bathed in radiant light. Liang shielded his eyes, the intensity of the glow overwhelming. But even through the glare, he could sense it—a presence unlike anything he had encountered before. The air around him trembled as the figure stepped free of the shattered shell, its form obscured by swirling energy.
Liang's voice faltered as he whispered, "What… are you?"