The One Without Flame

Chains of the Forgotten Seal

For seven days and nights, Yue Ling lay nestled within a cocoon-like flower, enveloped in a soft, luminous glow that both cradled and refined her essence. Time seemed to stretch into eternity, the world outside holding its breath. The only sound was the faint hum of energy resonating through the flower’s petals. In the depths of her unconsciousness, Yue Ling dreamt—of visions she could not yet understand, of echoes from a world long hidden from her. The air was thick with ash and sorrow, and a voice—many voices, ancient and trembling—rose like mist from the earth.

They chanted:

“From endless void and shadowed deep,

A sorrow wakes that will not sleep.

Blood once spilled and tears once cried,

Bind the fates that will not hide.

The five shall fall, their echoes torn,

Shattered souls forever mourn.

The silent flame, cold as night,

Beckons forth the lost to fight.

In broken realms where silence dwells,

The unseen path the chosen tells.

A heart divided, torn by pain,

Will walk the void and break the chain.

The forgotten seal, the shattered sky,

Cries unheard, the ages sigh.

One shall rise from the shadow cast,

To wield the void, the first and last.

Yet with this power, burden lies—

A weight that dims the brightest skies.

For every dawn must bleed through night,

And every wrong must birth the right.

Hear now the lament, deep and low,

For those who walk where few may go.

The void’s cold hand will claim its due

But sorrow’s flame burns strong in you.”

On the eighth day, a subtle c***k appeared in the center of the flower. The glowing cocoon slowly split open, releasing a soft pulse of light. From its heart emerged a figure unlike anything the world had seen.

Yue Ling stepped out, blinking against the morning light, her body unfamiliar and humming with power. Strength coursed through her veins like a river unleashed—her limbs felt weightless, her senses sharp and boundless.

Then, as silence hung in the air, her familiar, mischievous voice rang out, slicing through the awe like a blade of moonlight.

“Did I grow two heads overnight?” she quipped, glancing around with wide eyes and a grin.

Grandfather Yue blinked, momentarily stunned. He had expected change—but not this. The girl before him radiated like a celestial being. Her skin glowed with a silken sheen, her long hair flowed like molten silver, yet her eyes remained unchanged—sparkling with mischief and stubbornness.

“You little rascal,” he muttered, feigning annoyance. “At least put something proper on. You’re still wearing light cloth—and enough of the jokes!”

Yue Ling only stretched lazily, a satisfied smirk playing on her lips. “But Grandfather… don’t you see? I feel amazing!”

“That feeling won’t last if you act foolish,” he said sharply, though his voice softened near the end. “You’ve only just begun. Whatever happened eight days ago was only the surface. You’re still at the Marrow Cleansing phase—barely beyond a toddler in the cultivation world.”

“Eight days?” she gasped, spinning toward him. “It felt like two minutes! And what’s all this energy I’m feeling? I don’t even know where to start!”

“Sit,” he said firmly, beckoning her to a flat stone nearby. “Let me teach you the basics. How to breathe with the wind. How to listen to the earth. This power—it’s not a gift without cost. If you don’t learn to wield it, it will consume you.”

Yue Ling lowered herself slowly, uncertainty flickering in her expression. “What does this explanation mean? I mean... me? I'm a fire cultivator, and also my spiritual root is the fire element. Where are the wind and earth coming from?”

Grandfather Yue’s gaze held hers, steady and serious. “Yes, you can. You were born for this. But the path ahead is not paved with ease. Your bloodline... your power... it ties into something far deeper than even I can explain.” Deep down, grandfather Yue was also surprised to see that his granddaughter is a void cultivator, which scares him more than anything.

Just then, a peculiar sensation rippled through her. The ancient ring—still disguised as a dangling earring—began to pulse softly, as if trying to speak. She reached up instinctively, fingers brushing the warm metal.

“What was that?” she murmured.

Grandfather Yue didn’t answer immediately. He stared at the earring with a grave expression, something flickering in his eyes—worry, perhaps even fear, that Yue Ling didn’t keep track of her jewelry.

Before he could respond, the ground beneath them shuddered.

A chilling pressure filled the air.

Yue Ling staggered slightly, her breath catching as the sky above seemed to darken, shadows stretching unnaturally around them. The very air seemed to whisper warnings.

“What’s happening?” she whispered.

Grandfather Yue’s face was grim. “It’s not over." Something has awakened you. You need to train. Butler San is helping create a world that befits where you can train as a void cultivator. Your bloodline reaches further than this world.”

Her heartbeat thundered in her ears. “What do you mean?”

But he didn’t answer.

And Yue Ling knew something was wrong but couldn't decipher it. Then her mind wandered to the dream she had, which made the ring disguised as earrings give a humming spiritual energy.

Later that day, she stood at the edge of the training arena, the faint scent of incense and wildflowers brushing past her. Her hands trembled—not from fear, but from anticipation.

Years under Grandfather Yue’s guidance had prepared her for this, but something told her this trial would be different.

“Remember, Yue Ling,” his voice rang out, clear and stern. “The path you walk now will test your very soul. There is no turning back.”

She nodded, swallowing her nerves. “I’m ready.”

With a single motion, Grandfather Yue activated the ancient flower-shaped rune beneath her feet. The world around her shimmered, space itself warping. A low hum vibrated in her bones. The Moonflower Spell of the golden petals on her palm began to glow, feeding energy into her very core.

But something was wrong.

Cracks splintered across the ground. From their depths, shadows emerged—formless, slithering, inhuman. They crept forward like a tide of darkness, eyes gleaming with cruel intent.

Yue Ling’s breath hitched. The ring in her ear pulsed again, stronger this time—as if urging her to remember something she didn’t yet know.

“Focus,” Grandfather Yue’s voice echoed, distant yet present. “Do not be swayed. You own your fate.”

Drawing in a deep breath, Yue Ling raised her hand and summoned the Moonflower Spell. Light erupted around her, petals of glowing energy forming a protective barrier. The shadows shrieked but did not flee. They pressed closer, testing her limits.

She couldn’t hold back. With a surge of resolve, she tapped deeper into her bloodline. The flower-shaped rune on her hand blazed to life, and the ring responded with a pulse of clarity.

She struck—an arc of radiant power blasting through the nearest shadow. It dissolved with a scream, but more came. They kept coming.

Until something shifted.

She stopped resisting. Instead, she harmonized. Her body moved in tune with the rhythm of her power, not against it. Her stance steadied, breath flowing evenly, her mind syncing with each flicker of energy. And when she unleashed the next burst, it wasn’t wild—it was precise, elegant, unstoppable.

Then she remembered what her grandfather had taught her in childhood—the rhythm of the five pulses of breath: Inhale with the sky, hold with the mountains, exhale like the sea, silence like the void, rise like the flame. She fell into it effortlessly, her spiritual core stabilizing. Energy lines appeared along her arms like glowing veins, drawing from each elemental trace.

She closed her eyes, pivoted on one foot, and summoned a silent sphere of void energy. It hovered at her palm’s edge—pale silver, cold and infinite. She hurled it forward. The sphere expanded midair, engulfing five shadows at once and collapsing them into silence.

From afar, Grandfather Yue observed closely. "She’s already sensing the Void threads… this quickly?" he muttered under his breath.

The battle dragged on. The shadows didn’t retreat, but Yue Ling no longer fought as a child surprised by danger. Her movements grew sharp, patient, trained. She tested her limits, drawing symbols in the air, weaving energy strands into temporary barriers. Every motion added to her rhythm.

Then, breathing steadily, she anchored her feet and summoned a grand lotus from the flower rune beneath. With each petal glowing brighter than moonlight, she leapt, suspended above it, and drew a long arc with her arm. A luminous trail followed—a s***h that descended with all the momentum of the void.

The darkness trembled.

The lotus bloomed fully, and as it did, light drowned the arena.

The shadows disintegrated into mist.

Silence fell.

She stood in the center of the arena, panting, drenched in sweat but victorious. Her chest heaved as the last remnants of darkness vanished.

From afar, Grandfather Yue’s voice resounded, filled with pride. “Well done, Yue Ling. You’ve taken your first true step as a void cultivator.”

But as the arena began to reset, Yue Ling knew this wasn’t a triumph.

It was a warning.

Because something greater was coming.

And it would not wait.