The sanctuary no longer felt like a place of rest. The warmth that once clung to Chen's skin now shimmered with tension, like the last breath before a storm. He stood before the obsidian mirror that had appeared overnight, its surface rippling with soft light.
It didn't belong to any of the divine courts.
Not even the system recognized it.
Ye Yue had tried to trace its magic, but even she—a goddess of the moon—had recoiled. "This power… it's older than divinity. Older than me."
Now, alone, Chen reached out and pressed his palm against the mirror.
It didn't pull him in.
It accepted him.
Lanmei watched from the shadows.
She had seen the way Chen's hand lingered on Ye Yue's back earlier, the way they whispered too softly for her to hear. Jealousy wasn't unfamiliar to her—but this was different.
She wasn't afraid of Ye Yue.
She was afraid of being left behind.
Her hands curled into fists. He's changing again.
Lanmei had climbed alongside him. Loved him. Fought for him. Grown because of him.
But now?
Now Chen stepped toward something that even gods feared to name.
And she felt powerless.
Not because she lacked strength—but because this was no longer just a fight for survival or pleasure. This was a fight for his soul.
And hers was no longer enough to anchor him.
In the hidden void between realms…
Chen fell into the trial.
No sky. No ground. Just endless flame—white, pure, and silent.
A woman stood within it, veiled in silver.
Lysaria.
She didn't speak at first. Just raised a single finger—and a spark leapt from the fire into Chen's chest.
The pain was not of body, but of memory.
He saw himself as a child, reaching out for warmth.
Saw Mei crying when he left the mortal world.
Saw Lanmei's tears—never shed aloud—as she watched him sleep, whispering promises to protect what even he hadn't known he needed.
Saw Ye Yue's trembling hand, retreating just before she had said, "I love you."
Then the fire calmed.
Lysaria finally spoke.
"You are not here to win. You are here to understand. And in understanding… burn clean."
Meanwhile, in the Court of Chains…
Divine flames flickered across a long table. Shadows of judges and veiled lords bent over fate-scrolls as Chen's power surged again.
"This cannot continue," one rasped. "He draws from Lysaria's Exile Path."
"Then sever his connections."
A divine decree was drafted.
Break the bonds.
If they could not stop Chen directly, they would strike at those who held his heart. Make Ye Yue doubt. Make Lanmei despair.
Back in the sanctuary…
Lanmei tried to meditate. To train. But her qi spiraled uncontrollably. Something in her was cracking—not breaking, but transforming.
She sensed Chen in pain.
But it wasn't physical.
It was the kind of pain that happened when the soul reshaped itself.
And it terrified her.
Ye Yue approached quietly. "You feel it too."
Lanmei didn't answer.
Ye Yue sat beside her, for once not offering comfort but truth.
"He's going somewhere we can't follow. Not yet."
"Then how do we keep up?" Lanmei whispered.
"We become more than his lovers."
"We become part of his path."
Inside the trial…
Chen reached the center of the flame and stood before a single pedestal.
On it, three names were carved: Mei, Lanmei, and Ye Yue.
Below them: Yourself.
Lysaria stood behind him.
"You think this power is for conquest," she said gently. "But it is for reflection. The God of Yang is not a tyrant. He is the warmth that draws the lost from the cold."
"So choose," she said, gesturing to the pedestal. "Not between them. But for them."
Chen placed his hand on the flame and whispered: "No more running."
And the world shifted.
Back in the sanctuary, Lanmei gasped and collapsed as energy poured through her—raw, unfamiliar, and deeply personal.
At the same time, Ye Yue's divine mark pulsed.
Chen had passed the first trial.
But this wasn't over.
The next would not be emotional.
It would be war.