The heavens burned crimson. Smoke rolled endlessly across the shattered battlefield like waves upon a black sea, carrying the scent of blood, ash, and molten earth. The land outside Crimson City had long since lost its original shape. Mountains were cracked apart, forests reduced to charred skeletons, and rivers of lava crawled through the broken ground like glowing serpents beneath the night. The sky itself trembled. Volcanic dust drifted endlessly from the distant mountains, painting the world in an eerie red haze. Countless corpses littered the battlefield—humans and creatures alike piled together beneath ruined banners and broken weapons. Cries of agony echoed in every direction. Flames devoured siege towers while spiritual arts exploded across the wasteland like falling stars. This was no longer war. It was extinction. The armies of the Azure Sky Realm had already collapsed three times beneath the invasion of the mysterious blood-skinned race. Their techniques were strange, cruel, and overwhelming. Wherever they passed, cities fell silent and rivers turned red. Yet even amidst such despair, one banner still stood. The banner of Crimson City. And beneath it— A lone figure knelt within a sea of corpses. Blood dripped endlessly from the young man's body. His armor had long since shattered, revealing deep wounds burned into his flesh. A broken sword remained lodged through his chest, its crimson blade piercing directly through his heart. Wang Li. The founder of the Flame Arts. The man who had slain over twenty thousand enemies upon this battlefield alone. His breathing was faint. Yet the battlefield around him looked less like the aftermath of war… And more like the center of a catastrophe. The earth surrounding Wang Li had melted into blackened glass. Hundreds of enemy corpses lay scattered around him, many reduced to charred husks frozen in expressions of terror. Some bodies still smoldered faintly despite the battle having long ended. Several soldiers had not even remained whole. Their upper bodies were simply gone—as though erased by overwhelming heat. Crimson flames still danced weakly across broken weapons nearby, refusing to extinguish naturally. Even the air itself carried unbearable heat around Wang Li’s kneeling figure. It was said that during the final stages of battle— Wang Li had unleashed the forbidden Fourth Form of the Flame Arts. A technique born not from inheritance… But from madness, desperation, and war. “Heaven Scorching Funeral.” One strike. An entire battlefield swallowed by crimson fire. Even now, none of the enemy soldiers dared approach his body carelessly. Heavy footsteps echoed through the burning wasteland. A tall general clad in dark crimson armor slowly approached Wang Li’s dying figure. The general’s face was pale and emotionless, his silver eyes carrying the calm pride of a seasoned warrior. He stopped before Wang Li and looked down at him silently for a moment. Then he gave a faint nod. “I will admit this much,” the general said calmly. “You and your little city have shown remarkable nerve. To hold us back this long… to slaughter so many of our warriors…” His eyes swept across the battlefield littered with corpses. “For humans of such a weak age, it is worthy of respect.” Then his gaze hardened slightly. “But in the end, courage changes nothing.” The general stepped closer, his voice lowering like cold steel. “Do not resist anymore, Wang Li. The Azure Sky Realm has already fallen. Your city burns, your people die, and your allies have abandoned you.” A faint mocking smile appeared on his face. “All that remains now… is for history to bury your name beside the ashes of this world.” His boot pressed against Wang Li’s shoulder, forcing the kneeling man deeper into the blood-soaked earth. Wang Li coughed violently. Blood spilled from his lips, yet his eyes still burned fiercely beneath the ash covering his face. The general frowned slightly at that gaze. Even now… This human refused to bow. With a cold exhale, the general grasped the sword buried within Wang Li’s chest and twisted it slowly. A sickening crack echoed. Then— He ripped the blade free. Blood splattered across the scorched earth. Wang Li’s body collapsed motionlessly into the pile of corpses. The general merely glanced at him one final time before turning away. “The war is over.” But before he could take another step— A sharp sound sliced through the air. Slash. The general’s eyes widened. For a brief moment, the battlefield fell silent. Then his head slowly slid from his shoulders. Blood erupted like a fountain. Several nearby soldiers froze in horror as the general’s corpse crashed heavily onto the ground. Behind him stood a man wearing the robes of the enemy race. His face was hidden beneath a dark hood stained with blood and ash. In his hand rested a trembling blade. The man slowly lifted his gaze toward Wang Li’s fallen body. And for the first time— Fear appeared in the eyes of the surrounding soldiers.

Chapter 1: The Last Flame