"Who told you to strip everything underneath? Just lower the outer trousers… to your waist is enough." Isara Ashvane's voice carried a sharp edge of irritation.
Kael snapped back to himself, hastily hauling his underclothes back into place before lowering only his outer trousers as instructed. His face burned crimson. *Damn it… damn it! That cursed little booklet's got my head full of filth…*
Isara's gaze fixed on his abdomen.
Though it was afternoon, the Brocade Pavilion lay buried in the deep shade of Vane's Summit. Ancient trees crowded close, their canopies choking the light. Inside, the air was cool, dim—yet from Kael's navel there glowed a faint, gentle radiance.
Within it lay something.
Smooth. Pale as polished jade. And etched across its surface—impossibly fine patterns, like runes… or ward-scripts.
Something no natural flesh should bear.
Kael had always known there was something strange about his body. He had asked before, many times—but Isara had always brushed him off. Over the years, he'd grown used to the silence.
Now, seeing her stare again, he couldn't help himself.
"Master… what *is* this thing inside me?"
Isara did not answer.
Her expression shifted, unreadable. Her eyes remained locked on his navel, as though drawn into it—almost entranced.
Kael shifted uneasily. "Master…?"
She shuddered faintly, like someone waking from a dream.
He swallowed. "This thing inside me—"
"You'll stop asking." Her voice cut him off cold. "When it's time for you to know, I'll tell you."
She reached into her robes and drew out a length of deep crimson cloth. With a flick of her wrist, it flew through the air like a falling sunset.
It wrapped around Kael's waist in an instant, binding snugly over his abdomen.
He blinked. "Master… what is this?"
"This is the Emberseal Sash," she said. "Woven from the hide of a fire-beast native to the Burning Isles. It is one of the Chapter's treasures. So long as you wear it, it will steadily enhance your affinity with fire."
Her gaze lingered on him.
"Slowly, yes. But over time, the accumulation is… considerable. You are of extreme fire alignment, and your path is flame. This sash will benefit you greatly."
Kael's eyes lit up. "Thank you, Master!"
Two gifts, not one.
He couldn't help the thought. *She said everyone gets one before leaving… but she gave me two.*
He lowered his head, studying the sash. Crimson threads woven with intricate ward-scripts shimmered faintly, shifting like living flame.
*Maybe… she does care,* he thought quietly. *Just… in her own way.*
Isara continued, her tone sharpening again.
"The Emberseal Sash regulates temperature—warm in winter, cool in summer. It resists water and flame alike. It does not stain. From this moment forward, you are never to remove it."
Her eyes hardened.
"Not while you sleep. Not while you bathe. Not ever. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Master."
"If I learn that you've taken it off…" Her voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. "You will be punished. Severely."
Kael nodded, though a flicker of confusion stirred in him. *Why so strict?* But he pushed it aside. *If it helps me, why would I take it off anyway?*
Isara waved a hand dismissively. "Go. Prepare your things. Only take what you need."
Kael pulled up his trousers, fastened his belt, and coiled the Eight-Claw Flamescourge around his arm. Grinning like a boy who'd just stolen fire from the gods, he hurried out.
---
He didn't go far.
At the secluded foot of the mountain behind Vane's Summit, he found an empty clearing and immediately unfurled the Flamescourge.
Vitae surged.
The Sundering Flame Art ignited.
The whip came alive.
A dragon of fire lashed through the air, blazing red arcs tearing across the clearing. Wherever it struck, stone cracked, wood split, and heat warped the air itself.
The difference was staggering.
Compared to the old Ember-Chain, this was not a weapon—it was a force of devastation.
Kael laughed, drunk on it, unable to stop.
"Impressive! Truly impressive!"
The voice came from behind a tree.
Kael snapped the whip back and turned, grinning. "Grimhog! What are you doing here?"
The towering bear-spirit lumbered out—massive frame, thick brows, wide mouth, eyes gleaming with curiosity. He picked up a shattered stone fragment and stared at its melted edge.
"…Gods above. Half a month, and you've grown this strong?"
Kael twirled the Flamescourge. "Not me. The weapon."
Grimhog grabbed it eagerly, drooling slightly as he examined it. "What is this treasure? Where'd you get it?"
"Gift from my Master," Kael said smugly. "Eight-Claw Flamescourge."
Grimhog whistled low. "No wonder it moves like a fire-dragon… I saw the glow from miles away."
He clapped Kael on the shoulder. "So—you're finally leaving the mountain?"
"Tomorrow."
"Ha! Then we celebrate today!" Grimhog grinned. "Lady Perelda's hosting a gathering—flower viewing. Come along. Show off that weapon of yours."
Kael considered. "Alright. I should say goodbye anyway."
Grimhog grabbed him. "That's the spirit!"
"Wait—I can't go empty-handed. Let me grab something first."
Grimhog paled slightly. "I'm not going back up there. Last time I ran into that Soror of yours—pretty face, but vicious as hell. Called me a monster and tried to gut me."
Kael laughed. "That'd be my Third Soror. She's… special. Wait here. I'll be quick."
---
Half an incense stick later, Kael returned, carrying a gourd.
"What's in it?" Grimhog asked.
"You'll see. Got your share too."
They set off together, using the Ground-Sprint Art, racing south toward the Jadewash Valley.
---
Peach blossoms stretched for miles.
By the time they reached Verdenhall, the valley burned with color—petals like scattered flame beneath the setting sun.
They entered the manor. Servants guided them to the rear garden.
A banquet was already underway.
Fine wine. Rich dishes. Laughter.
Grimhog bellowed, "Look who I brought!"
Heads turned. Smiles spread.
At the center sat a lush, elegant woman—Lady Perelda herself, ancient and radiant.
"Well, if it isn't Kael," she said warmly. "I thought you'd forgotten your elder sister."
Kael bowed quickly.
Around the table sat spirits of the Jade Peaks—Simeon the White, the Black-White Young Master, the Flying Marshal, the Sea-Disturbing Marshal…
And one woman he did not know.
Lady Perelda drew her forward. "This is Verdis Morcroft—new to our peaks."
Kael's eyes flicked to Grimhog and the others—awkward smiles, lingering embarrassment.
So the rumors were true.
He bowed. "Elder Sister."
Verdis studied him, a slow smile curving her lips. "So you're Kael Ashvane."
"Depends what you've heard."
"That you're generous. And bold."
He scratched his cheek. "Just friends helping friends."
---
Soon enough, the Flamescourge was passed around, admired, envied.
Wine flowed.
Laughter deepened.
At last, Kael set his gourd down.
"I leave tomorrow," he said. "These are something I made—Condensed Essence Draughts. Consider it a farewell gift."
Grimhog whooped, dumping them out—dozens of pearl-like pills spilling across a plate.
They devoured them.
Praise erupted instantly.
Flavor. Power. Clarity.
Gone in moments.
---
Later, as the feast wore on, Simeon the White gifted Kael the Wardian Satchel.
Then Lady Perelda brought out a porcelain vase.
Inside—a single branch.
The Lone-Bud Branch.
Mist gathered.
A girl emerged.
Small. Floating. Beautiful as a blossom.
"Peria," Lady Perelda said softly.
The girl poured wine silently, obediently.
"A spirit," she explained. "Young. But gifted."
She turned to Kael. "Take her with you."
Kael recoiled. "I can't—"
"She only manifests briefly each day. No one will know."
Still he hesitated.
The others teased him mercilessly.
At last—
"…Fine. I'll try."
Laughter erupted. Cups raised.
---
Night deepened.
Wine thickened.
Someone proposed an oath.
The Ironblood Oath.
Kael hesitated.
Then—
"I'm in."
---
They swore it beneath the blossoms.
Eight bound as one.
The Eight Wardens of the Jade Peaks.
---
Much later—
Drunk beyond sense, Kael staggered as Verdis took his hand.
"Come," she murmured.
They left the others behind.
---
Deep among the blossoms, moonlight filtered through petals.
"Sit," she said.
He obeyed.
She shifted—graceful, deliberate.
Cloth slipped from her shoulder.
Pale skin gleamed.
Kael's heart slammed.
She leaned close, breath warm.
"I'll be your gift tonight."
Her lips found his.
Heat surged.
Her body pressed against his—soft, dangerous.
She pushed him down, kisses trailing lower, hands stripping him bare.
Kael's thoughts fractured.
"W-what are you—"
"Wasting a night like this?" she murmured. "Unforgivable."
Her hand closed around him.
She froze.
"…Gods."
She yanked his trousers down, staring.
"Such a polite face… and *this* hiding beneath?"
Kael groaned, body tensing.
She mounted him, eyes blazing.
"Undress me."
He fumbled.
She laughed softly. "First time?"
He nodded, burning.
Her delight sharpened.
"A virgin… perfect."
Her clothes fell away piece by piece.
She guided his hands—teaching, shaping.
His senses drowned.
Her body was heat and silk and scent.
She straddled him, guiding him toward her.
"Come," she breathed. "I'll show you heaven—"
Kael thrust forward—
Then stopped.
Something moved behind her.
He blinked.
Once. Twice.
And saw it clearly.
Behind her back—
A massive, green-black tail rose into the air.
Thick as a barrel.
Curved like a hook.
And at its tip—
A monstrous, trembling stinger.
Waiting.