The guest quarters the Obsidian Court had prepared were far too lavish. Velvet cushions sprawled across floors of dark crystal, incense curled like lazy serpents through the air, and every mirror reflected not just appearances—but hidden desires.
Chen Ming sat at the edge of a circular bed, barefoot, shirtless, firelight licking across the hard lines of his back. He didn't speak at first.
He was listening.
Not to voices—but to his flame.
It throbbed in his chest, hot and impatient, laced with something unfamiliar. Something deeper than lust. He clenched a fist as the system chimed in:
[Emotional Bonds: Intensifying]Divine Tension: HighDesire Levels (Ye Yue / Lanmei / Mei): Fluctuating – Proceed with Caution
The curtain behind him rustled.
Ye Yue entered first, her moonlit aura unusually dim, her long hair cascading down one bare shoulder. She said nothing, only crossed the room and sat beside him, close enough that her thigh pressed against his.
"You shouldn't face them alone," she murmured.
"I'm not," Chen said.
She turned to look at him, eyes reflecting both affection and guilt. "You don't understand how powerful they are. How twisted. They'll know every crack in your soul. They'll peel it open and dance inside it."
Chen reached up and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. "Then we patch those cracks together. One by one."
She inhaled sharply—and then kissed him. Slow. Desperate. Not lustful, but aching. When they parted, her breath trembled.
"You're becoming more than a mortal," she whispered. "And I don't know if that scares me… or excites me."
Lanmei's War Dance
Before the moment could settle, the door hissed open again. Lanmei strode in, wrapped in a sleeveless training robe, hair tied back like a warrior in heat. She tossed a towel onto the floor.
"Enough brooding," she said. "Trial or not, we're training."
Chen blinked. "Now?"
"You think temptation is the problem?" she smirked. "No. The danger is hesitation. You freeze for one second with one of those mask-wearing temptresses and it's over."
Ye Yue rolled her eyes but stepped back.
Lanmei cracked her knuckles. "Come on, God of Yang. Show me how divine your reflexes have gotten."
The training was intense, but not cruel. Lanmei didn't just test his balance—she tested his resolve. Her strikes came low and teasing, her spins pressed too close, her eyes constantly locked on his lips.
"You're holding back," she whispered once, catching his wrist.
"I'm focused," he said.
"Don't be." She leaned in close. "Let your body speak. That's the only way you'll survive tomorrow."
He did.
And by the time they collapsed side by side on the padded floor, sweaty and flushed, she was the one who couldn't quite catch her breath.
"…Damn," she muttered, lips brushing his ear. "They won't know what hit them."
Mei's Confession
Later that night, as the fire dimmed and Ye Yue and Lanmei both rested in a tangle of silk and heat, a quiet figure lingered near the arched balcony.
Chen stepped out to find Mei staring up at the dark sky.
"They called me a mortal," she said softly, "but I feel like I've already left that world behind."
He joined her. "You have."
"But what about you, Chen? What are you becoming?"
He didn't answer right away.
Instead, he turned to her, gently taking her hand.
"Whatever I become… I want you beside me."
Tears glimmered at the edge of her eyes—but she smiled. "Then make me strong enough to stand there."
She kissed him.
Not possessively. Not lustfully.
But with promise.
The Flame Within
As the three women slept—together, close, intertwined in ways both tender and charged—Chen sat cross-legged in the center of the room, firelight dancing across his skin.
The system pulsed again.
[Bond Strengthening Complete][Trial of Masks Prepared – Resist, Tempt, Endure][Unlocked: Embodied Flame – Passive Skill: Divine Restraint]
He breathed in.
He breathed out.
And as his eyes opened, the flames in his irises did not flicker—they hardened.
"Let them come."