The cold night air bit into Ashen Wu's skin as he walked beyond the gates of the Wu Clan. His body ached from exhaustion, and the strange gray flames within him flickered weakly, as if barely holding on.
The road ahead was uncertain. He had no home, no allies, no resources. Yet, for the first time in his life, he felt free.
He clenched his fists. Power… I need more power.
The memory of the Ashen Codex burned in his mind. That fleeting vision—the ancient ruins, the crumbling book—had gifted him something that defied logic. If he could understand it, he could grow stronger.
But where was he supposed to begin?
His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps behind him.
"Leaving so soon, young master?"
Ashen spun, his muscles tensing. From the shadows of the trees emerged a hunched figure—a man wrapped in tattered gray robes, his face obscured by a hood. Despite his frail appearance, there was something about him that sent a shiver down Ashen's spine.
"Who are you?" Ashen asked warily.
The old man chuckled, his voice dry like rustling leaves. "A mere wanderer. But you… You have touched something that should not be touched."
Ashen's eyes narrowed. "You know about the Ashen Codex?"
The old man nodded. "I do. And I know its curse."
Ashen's fists tightened. "Curse?"
The old man stepped closer. "Tell me, boy. Do you feel it? The heat within your veins? The way it burns you from the inside out?"
Ashen hesitated. Now that the battle had ended, he could feel it—his body was too hot, as if embers smoldered beneath his skin. Even his breath came out like smoke.
"The Ashen Codex is no ordinary technique," the old man continued. "It grants power, yes. But that power is not free. It consumes you, little by little. The more you cultivate it, the closer you come to turning into nothing but ashes."
Ashen remained silent. He should have been afraid. A technique that ate away at its user? It was terrifying.
Yet…
A slow, bitter smile spread across his lips. "So what?"
The old man raised an eyebrow.
Ashen took a step forward. "I've spent my life powerless, abandoned, mocked. If this power comes at a cost, then so be it. I'd rather burn away chasing strength than crawl in the dirt as a cripple."
For a long moment, the old man simply stared at him. Then, he threw his head back and laughed—a deep, wheezing laugh that sounded half-mad.
"Good!" He grinned, revealing yellowed teeth. "A fool's answer… but perhaps the only right one."
Ashen exhaled. "Can you teach me?"
The old man's grin widened. "No. But I can show you where to begin."
He extended a bony finger, pointing toward the mountains beyond the Wu Clan's territory. "Deep within those peaks lies the Ruins of the Ash Lord. There, you will find the next piece of your inheritance."
Ashen followed the man's gaze toward the distant mountains. A cold wind blew, sending ashes swirling into the night sky.
His path was set.
With one last glance back at the clan that had forsaken him, Ashen Wu stepped into the darkness, walking toward his destiny.
Toward the fire that would either forge him into a god—
Or reduce him to nothing.