In the Northern Desert Wasteland, the wind and sand fell still, and heaven and earth lay silent.
Lin Yan stood before the Dou Di Gate, nine lingering traces of Emperor Flame circling him like nine coiling fire dragons. Every wisp bore an age-old will—rage that would burn the heavens, resolve to guard the path, the determination to seek the emperor's realm alone, and the stubborn refusal of mortal flame to die.
The will flame true blaze rose in his palm, resonating with the nine flames and slowly merging with them. Crimson-gold light spread through his body, threading through his limbs and bones like meridians. Every inch of bone, every drop of blood burned and transformed.
The nine flames returned to their source. The Emperor Flame was about to take shape.
Boom—
He stepped forward, and the yellow sand beneath his feet turned to crystalline fire. The earth's veins trembled for ten thousand miles. He reached out and slowly pressed his hand toward the enormous black gate.
The runes on the gate lit up one by one, as though answering his will.
But just then—
"Hum..."
The Emperor Gate trembled slightly, and a low sigh drifted out from within.
"Do you truly believe becoming an emperor can change this world?"
The voice was quiet, yet it rang like a bell through the nine nether depths, striking straight at the soul. Heaven and earth abruptly froze. Even the wind and sand stopped, as though time itself had paused.
Lin Yan's pupils contracted, and his hand stopped.
The gap between the doors slowly widened, and a figure emerged from the darkness.
He wore a tattered imperial robe, his hair like frost and snow, his eyes like cold stars. The ravages of time were etched across his face, yet he looked exactly like Lin