Chapter 1: The Fall of the Flame Sovereign
The crimson sky flickered with the dying light of the setting sun, casting long shadows across the battlefield. The clash of steel echoed through the once-glorious plains, now stained with the blood of the fallen. It was the final confrontation—the battle that would determine the fate of the Flame Sovereign, Xiao Zhan.
Standing at the heart of the battlefield, Xiao Zhan felt the familiar heat of the flames licking at his skin, an extension of his own will. His sword, the legendary Inferno Blade, hummed with the raw power of the fire element, sending waves of intense heat that could incinerate an army. His crimson robes billowed around him, the flames dancing in harmony with his every movement. He was a force of nature, unstoppable, unyielding.
But despite his unmatched strength, something felt… wrong.
Xiao Zhan's gaze swept over the scene. His soldiers fought valiantly, their weapons cutting through the enemy ranks. But as his eyes scanned the faces of his allies, a disturbing thought began to creep into his mind. The faces were tense, filled with fear and determination. But there was something in their eyes—something that betrayed a deeper emotion.
Tension. Hesitation.
As his sword cleaved through another enemy general, Xiao Zhan's instincts screamed that something was amiss. His mind, sharp as ever, traced the oddities: the formation of his troops, the way some of his commanders seemed too distant, too focused on other matters. And then, there was the strangest feeling in the pit of his stomach, as if the winds of fate had shifted in ways he could not yet comprehend.
He pushed the feeling aside, focusing on the task at hand. The enemy's forces were weakening, and the victory was nearly assured. His soldiers rallied, their morale rising as they followed their leader into the fray.
But just as he was about to strike down the leader of the enemy forces—General Liang, a fierce rival from a distant kingdom—he felt it. The unmistakable sensation of a dagger pressing against his back. His heart skipped a beat.
No… He instinctively twisted his body, but it was too late.
The dagger, forged from a rare obsidian metal that could resist the flames, plunged into his side, sending a shock of cold through his body. The fire within him flickered, dimming momentarily. His sword dropped from his hand, and his knees buckled beneath him.
In that fleeting moment, Xiao Zhan realized the truth. Betrayal.
His eyes darted across the battlefield, and it was then that he saw it—the faces of those he trusted, his closest allies, his generals, his comrades, all standing in the distance. They were not engaged in the battle. They were watching. Watching him fall.
His mind raced, the pain in his side searing through him. This wasn't supposed to happen. Not like this.
He had fought for years to unite the fractured kingdoms, to bring peace to a land torn by war. And now, in his moment of triumph, he was betrayed. His own people, his own generals, had conspired against him.
As the blood flowed from his wound, Xiao Zhan staggered, clutching at the hilt of the dagger embedded in his side. He turned his head toward the figure who had dealt the blow—a former lieutenant, Zhang Tian, once a man he had considered a brother.
Zhang Tian's eyes were cold, devoid of remorse. The faintest smirk played on his lips as he stepped forward, pulling a blade from his belt.
"You were always too idealistic, Xiao Zhan," Zhang Tian's voice was a low growl, filled with disdain. "You thought you could change the world, unite these broken kingdoms. But power… Power is something that cannot be shared."
Xiao Zhan's heart skipped a beat. So this was the plan all along.
"Zhang Tian… you…" Xiao Zhan gasped, his breath shallow. He tried to raise his hand, but the strength was fading from his body. The Inferno Flame, his most powerful skill, sputtered weakly within him. No… it can't end like this. Not when I'm so close.
"Farewell, Flame Sovereign," Zhang Tian whispered, stepping back.
And then, as the blade plunged into Xiao Zhan's heart, time seemed to slow. His vision blurred, the world around him warping as the pain spread through his body. His last thoughts, as the darkness consumed him, were of the people he had loved, the life he had lost, and the cruel irony of it all.
The Flame Sovereign, the mighty ruler who had once commanded fire itself, was consumed by betrayal. His body crumpled to the ground, lifeless, surrounded by the flames of war.
A blinding light enveloped Xiao Zhan. It was not the fire he knew so well, but a pure, overwhelming brilliance that filled his senses, leaving him unable to grasp what was happening. It felt as though the very fabric of his existence was being torn apart, scattered into countless pieces, each drifting aimlessly through a vast expanse of nothingness.
What is this?
He tried to scream, but no sound escaped. The sensation was both horrifying and… oddly peaceful. Time lost all meaning. The pain from his death faded into the distance, as if it were no longer relevant.
For what felt like an eternity, Xiao Zhan floated in that space, suspended between the worlds, until he felt something shift—something calling to him from the depths of the void.
A voice, soft but insistent, echoed in his mind. You have been chosen.
The words seemed to resonate with his very soul, pulling him forward.
Chosen? But for what?
The light around him began to fade, and the void receded. He could feel the tug of the world he had left behind—the world where he had once been a king, a ruler, a force of nature. But now, he felt nothing like that. His body—his spirit—was something different, something… smaller.
A sudden, violent jolt snapped him back to reality. He gasped for air, his body jerking upright as if he had been pulled from a deep, suffocating sleep. His mind raced, trying to process what had happened. Was it a dream? Was he truly dead? The answer came slowly, painfully.
He was reborn.
Xiao Zhan's first sight upon regaining consciousness was a small, dimly lit room. The rough-hewn stone walls were unfamiliar, and the musty scent of old wood filled the air. He sat up, his head spinning, and instinctively reached for the wound that had once claimed his life.
But there was no wound. His body, though young and unfamiliar, was whole and unharmed.
His heart raced, and panic began to settle in. Where am I?
He stood shakily, his legs weak beneath him. The unfamiliar sensation of being in a younger, smaller body was disorienting. He glanced into a cracked mirror hanging on the wall and found the reflection of a young man—no older than eighteen, with dark hair and pale skin. His features were unfamiliar, and yet, there was something in his eyes.
The same eyes that had once burned with the fire of his former self.
Lin Tian, the name drifted into his mind, as though whispered by an unseen force. His name. His new identity.
Xiao Zhan—no, Lin Tian—had been reborn into a new life, a life where his former glory was nothing but a distant memory.
But the Eternal Flame still burned within him.
He could feel the heat of it, deep within his chest, a fire that refused to die. The flame that had once been his greatest weapon, the symbol of his rule, still existed, pulsing with life inside him.
And so, Xiao Zhan made a vow—a vow to find the truth behind his reincarnation, to uncover the mystery of the Eternal Flame, and to seek revenge on those who had betrayed him.
This time, he would not fail.
As he stepped out of the dimly lit room, the world outside was unfamiliar, yet oddly familiar. A new chapter of his life had begun, and Xiao Zhan—now Lin Tian—knew that the flames of his past were far from extinguished.