The dawn sky was painted a pale shade of crimson, casting a mysterious veil over the academy grounds as a cacophony of sounds erupted. Per tradition, an esteemed, once-a-month event was held at the academy, granting all disciples free access to practice within the Heaven-Consuming Flame Pagoda, a privilege none would reject, especially given the usually heavy price one had to pay in “Flame Energy” units to enter. Thus, the entire grounds were alive with anticipation. Though Xioa Yan hadn’t participated extensively during his tenure—his abundant Flame Energy reserves rendering unnecessary a scramble over practice chambers—circumstances had changed significantly. As the sun rose higher into the expanse, the wide expanse surrounding the Heaven-Consuming Flame Pagoda swelled with disciples converging towards the gathering spot.
Standing proudly upon newly erected grand plaza surrounding the Pagoda, only the crown’s pinnacle broke the surface. Before its sealed chamber stood a statue eternally locked on an era now past. The figure portrayed was youthful, robed in deep ebony hues and bearing a warm countenance. On many onlookers’ vestments marked in a common emblem could be discerned: a shadowy black insignia intricately displaying a balance. This distinguished sign bore great name recognition throughout all the inner circles of academia—The Pan Gate—under whose authority this gathering prospered. Among them loomed a particularly tall and graceful female form who remained transfixed by the visage before her.
This distinguished figure—Xiao Yu—who wore both the emblem of the legendary Pan Gate, stood in silent reflection, though her presence itself was a spectacle, attracting subtle glances with every turn of her graceful form. None had dared disturb Xiao Yu—high ranking Pan Gate official and relative to its founder, Xioa Yan—as to provoke the wrath so frequently exhibited at inappropriate gestures. As murmured contemplations escaped her lips regarding the symbolic permanence of that stone-carved memory, commotion spread through the crowd like ripples, the cause emerging a mass of young disciples in tow of a young girl whose violet ponytail bounced rhythmically. Immediately, they were noticed.
Xiao Yu’s lips twitched with recognition even before their approach fully confirmed this arrival. “You’re always flaunting your strength around,” Xiao Yu mused lightly, stroking the sculpted surface gently. “Do you think this statue honors a lost ideal more deeply than reality ever could?”
“I don’t believe the probability was ever significant,” retorted young Zhu Yan. “After enduring incineration by a Flame of Otherworld Origins, the odds against him were steep indeed.”
“I know,” Xiao Yu murmured, fingers tracing contours as thoughts surfaced of late heartbeat irregularities forecasting some impending change she struggled putting into words.
“If the thumping ceased entirely, that would certainly foretell chaos anew,” interjected a clear-toned voice, drawing both their glances upward.
Through an entrance beyond sight, two newcomers made bold impressions upon their arrival, drawing murmurs and expressions of excitement from the audience who recognized the legendary statuses the two bore. “Wu Hao and Hu Jia—top-ranked amongst the strongest,” whispers circulated amidst the crowd.
“You two came especially to check on us?” Xiao Yu grinned in response. Wuhao and Hu Jia returned the gesture, albeit laced heavily with nostalgia, “Lucky that her departure coincided.”
As silence once more descended in the face of past regrets weighing heavily within shared memories, sudden chime-like toll from an elevated temple resonated overhead. A hush fell instantly throughout masses gathered below.
Moments hence emerged several aerial figures descending as if called into existence at command—before all stood an imposingly old figure, head of the academy Elder, Su Qian accompanied by a procession of experienced elders behind him. Three youthful figures followed the venerable elders onto the high dais—figures none could mistake at ease despite their ages: Lin XiuYa, Liu Qing, Lin Yan.
“I guess they did indeed find the inner strengths for longer stay.” Wuhao commented with amusement as they watched old friends rejoin familiar faces. While Liu’s motives had long been discussed with mutual understanding between comrades, stubbornness attributed much to a pact kept with an oath made to their founder Xiao Yan: to walk together.
Meanwhile, Elder Su Qian surveyed the crowd solemnly, thoughts drifting to times lost. “If that spirited young soul survives,” he muttered, “he’d likely bested even myself now,” eyes reflecting nostalgia. Glances were exchanged behind him as Lin XiuYa and companions nodded solemn agreement. That legendary title still commanded utmost respect in whispers between disciples, despite being spoken of only in absence.
As plans commenced for unlocking the Pagoda, Elder Su’s demeanor shifted abruptly.
“There’s something… something is terribly wrong,” he raspt, sensing heat radiating beyond the threshold of his perception. A dreadful heat—one feared by all within memory and myth.
“Quick, shut the gates!!” Elder Su’s bellowed orders shocked the crowd into action. As doors were forcibly clamped shut, tremors echoed the landscape with an approaching resonance of fire unleashed deep beneath ground, a harbinger of the calamity bound in stone containment long sealed.
Cracks raced like lightning along the pinnacle spire visible for all who peered towards the heavens with widening eyes as reality trembled. With a final deafening explosion, molten rock erupted skyward, showering those gathered below amidst rising panic only to freeze mid-flight.
As silence gripped all beneath an overwhelming pressure, laughter—pure and unrestrained—rang triumphant through heavens as if splitting them wide open.
“I am finally reborn—after a long slumber, I Xiao Yan am returned at last!!”
And with those defiant, liberating echoes, a new age beckoned beneath firelight newly stoked.
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