Su Chen sat cross-legged on the rooftop of the academy's tower, his gaze lost in the silver glow of the moon above. The air was unusually quiet tonight, as if the world itself held its breath.
But his mind was anything but still.
"Why now?"
That voice he heard yesterday—it wasn't his system. It wasn't a divine message from a god. And it most certainly wasn't a hallucination. It had weight, depth, and something else—familiarity. Like it had always been there, waiting in the depths of his soul, only now finding the strength to rise to the surface.
"In my past life... I never heard it. Not even once," he thought grimly. "Not when I reached Tier 10. Not when I stood at the peak. Not even in my final moments when the sky was split open by divine wrath."
This wasn't something that awakened through cultivation or battle. No. It felt older than that—ancient, almost primal. A whisper laced in memory and blood.
A whisper from his lineage.
He closed his eyes and focused. The voice hadn't spoken since the first time, but the sensation remained. A vague pulse in his chest. A vibration in his bones. As if his very blood carried an echo of something long forgotten.
"Could it be... ancestral?"
The thought struck him hard. He knew about bloodline awakenings—rare and powerful phenomena that granted abilities passed down from ancient ancestors. Most were diluted over generations, barely noticeable. But what if his wasn't?
What if his bloodline wasn't just rare, but dormant—waiting for the right moment?
And what better moment than rebirth?
Determined, Su Chen stood up. If there were answers to be found, there was only one place that might hold them.
The Ancient Library.
Located beneath the Academy, the Ancient Library was sealed to the public. Only the highest-ranking officials had unrestricted access. But Su Chen wasn't just any awakened anymore. He had already reached Tier 11, surpassing even the Academy's Grandmaster in sheer potential.
A few favors, a silent nod from Huaxia's Defense Minister, and the path was quietly opened to him.
As the metal doors creaked open, Su Chen stepped into a vast hall lined with towering shelves. The scent of age and forgotten secrets filled the air.
Each book hummed faintly with mana. This wasn't just paper—it was history etched in magic.
He walked slowly, trailing his fingers across the bindings. Many volumes detailed the rise and fall of civilizations. Some spoke of gods. Others of heroes.
And then, he found it.
A worn, crimson-bound tome that pulsed faintly the moment his hand touched it.
> "Legacy of the Crimson Flame."
He opened it, pages fluttering until they stopped on their own.
> "To the one who carries our fire…"
Su Chen's heart thumped once—then twice, heavier.
He read on.
The Crimson Flame Clan. An ancient bloodline of battle-scarred protectors from the First Era, long before the gods descended. They were once the guardians of the "True Barrier"—a mystical seal that kept the god realms from fully invading Blue Star.
But their power came with a curse. The moment one of their descendants reached Tier 11 without divine intervention, the bloodline would stir. The fire would reignite. And with it, the memories of the ancients would awaken.
"So that's what this is…"
It wasn't a coincidence. It wasn't fate. His rebirth, his rapid rise, his impossible advancement—it was all the result of this sleeping inheritance.
And the voice?
Not a system.
Not a god.
It was an echo.
A soul fragment of the first Crimson Flame Lord—his ancestor.
Suddenly, the voice returned, faint but firmer this time.
> "You've taken the first step. Now come find us. Reunite the flame. Restore the seal."
Before he could respond, the book flared in red light, a map burning into the page before it vanished.
Su Chen memorized it in an instant.
Somewhere, hidden in the northern mountain ranges, lay a Crimson Shrine, buried beneath stone and time. That's where the next truth awaited him.
He clenched his fist. Time was running out.
The gods would descend in three days.
But if the legacy was real… if the ancestral power was truly his to claim…
He wouldn't just fight the gods.
He would burn them.
---
Meanwhile…
Far beyond the sky, within a realm of obsidian and gold, a hundred divine eyes opened at once.
A god with molten veins leaned forward.
> "The Crimson Heir stirs."
A goddess wrapped in shadows smiled cruelly.
> "Finally. The board is shifting."
Another, crowned in frost, whispered, "The seal will break again. The True Barrier will weaken."
> "Then," the molten god said, "let's send him a message…"
---
Back on Blue Star…
That night, Su Chen dreamed again.
But this was no ordinary dream.
He stood in a vast crimson field, fire swirling around him. Shadows danced at the edge, and from above, a voice echoed—not the calm whisper from before, but a roar of cruel laughter.
> "You play with power you don't understand."
> "Let's see if you're worthy of the flame."
Suddenly, fire lashed out from the ground, forming monstrous shapes—beasts, warriors, titans—all burning, all coming for him.
The trial had begun.
And it wasn't just a test.
It was a warning.
---
Su Chen woke drenched in sweat, the mark of the Crimson Flame glowing faintly on his chest.
Three days until descent.
One shot at awakening his full legacy.
And now, the gods were watching.
He had to move—
—before they struck first.