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The surroundings lay in deathly darkness. Only the dancing flames crackled softly as they licked through the air, dyeing the space with wavering orange-red light.

The currents of air around them seemed frozen by the intense heat. Apart from the sound of flames rising and falling, there was not the slightest other noise.

Xiao Ling's footsteps landed on the scorching ground, every step carrying a faint burning sensation.

Holding his breath, he fixed his gaze tightly on the stone stele standing at the center of the plaza and slowly approached it step by step.

As the distance closed, the blurry gray haze on the stele's surface seemed to be driven away by the flames, and something faintly emerged upon the stone.

He subconsciously narrowed his eyes and came to a stop.

When his vision fully focused, Xiao Ling's pupils contracted slightly. It was not the natural grain of the stone. The stele was actually covered in tiny characters, as small as ants.

They were embedded in the hard stone surface, their strokes ancient and obscure, glimmering with a faint, muted sheen beneath the firelight.

Seeing this, he immediately concentrated, directing all his attention toward them. A powerful urge rose within him to see exactly what these words recorded.

The ancient characters on the stele flowed beneath the firelight, seeming to carry remnants of warmth from a thousand years ago as they entered Xiao Ling's sight line by line. The handwriting was vigorous yet tinged with exhaustion, but it also conveyed an unquestionable solemnity, like an elder slowly entrusting his final wishes to a younger generation before death:

"My name is Red Lotus. I traveled the Flame Path throughout my life and was fortunate enough to gain the recognition of the Crimson Lotus Karmic Fire. Thus, the world came to call