Beast Master: I'm the strongest.

The night following Yǒnghéng's emergence from the Mana Grove was unusually quiet. The air was thick with anticipation, as if the village itself held its breath in the wake of his trial. Despite the warm glow of lanterns lining Verdant Hollow's cobbled streets, Yǒnghéng found little comfort in the familiar surroundings. The Ethereal Flame burned steadily in his palm, a constant reminder of the burden he now bore.

Kael had warned him earlier: "The Rite was only the beginning. The flame has accepted you, but its true nature remains elusive. You will face challenges that test not only your strength but your humanity. Be vigilant."

Though Yǒnghéng didn't fully understand the elder's words, he carried them with him as he wandered to the edge of the village, where the Whispering Abyss loomed like a gaping maw. The faint howls of distant creatures echoed from its depths, yet he felt strangely drawn to the place where his awakening had begun.

A soft rustle behind him made him tense. Turning, he saw Yǔzhi stepping out of the shadows, his expression unreadable.

"You've done something incredible," Yǔzhi said, his tone lacking its usual sharpness. "But you're still reckless."

Yǒnghéng's hand tightened into a fist, the flame flaring briefly before subsiding. "You think I don't know that? I didn't do this for glory. I did it because I had no choice."

Yǔzhi crossed his arms, his gaze shifting to the Abyss. "You'll find that having power doesn't make life easier. If anything, it makes it harder. People will fear you. Envy you. And some will try to take what you have."

"I'll deal with it," Yǒnghéng replied firmly.

A faint smirk tugged at Yǔzhi's lips. "We'll see." Without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving Yǒnghéng alone with his thoughts.

---

The following days brought no respite. Word of Yǒnghéng's awakening spread beyond Verdant Hollow, reaching the ears of nearby villages and the ruling Verdant Concord. Strangers began to arrive in the village—merchants, adventurers, and even scholars seeking a glimpse of the boy who had survived the Abyss and emerged with an ancient power.

Among them was a woman named Seris, a traveling mage clad in flowing robes embroidered with silver runes. Her arrival caused a stir, for she was known as a wandering arbiter of balance—a figure who mediated disputes and ensured no one upset the natural order of mana.

Seris requested an audience with Kael and Yǒnghéng, her tone polite but firm. In the village hall, she examined the Ethereal Flame with keen interest, her silver eyes glinting as she observed its flickering patterns.

"This is no ordinary construct," she said after a long silence. "The energy it emanates is both destructive and transformative. It is… unique."

Kael nodded. "That is why I have asked Yǒnghéng to tread carefully. The flame's potential for harm cannot be ignored."

Seris turned her gaze to Yǒnghéng. "Tell me, boy. Have you felt the flame speak to you? Does it whisper, coax, or resist?"

Yǒnghéng hesitated. He hadn't told anyone, not even Kael, about the faint voice he sometimes heard when wielding the flame—a voice that seemed both familiar and alien, urging him to let go, to unleash its full power.

"Sometimes," he admitted, his voice low. "It's like it has a will of its own."

Seris' expression darkened. "Then your journey will be more perilous than most. Constructs with sentience are rare, and they often come with… agendas."

"Agendas?" Yǒnghéng frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Power like this is never without cost," Seris said. "The Ethereal Flame may grant you strength, but it will also test you, tempt you. If you falter, it will consume you."

Her words sent a chill down Yǒnghéng's spine. He thought back to the moment in the grove when he had felt the flame's chaotic energy clawing at his soul. Could he truly control something so dangerous?

Seris stood, her robes billowing slightly as she moved. "I will stay in Verdant Hollow for a time. There is much to learn about your construct—and much you must learn about yourself."

---

That night, Yǒnghéng sat alone beneath the stars, the Ethereal Flame burning softly in his palm. He closed his eyes, focusing on its warmth and rhythm. Slowly, the faint voice returned, whispering in a language he didn't understand.

But this time, instead of fear, he felt a spark of curiosity. What was this flame, truly? Why had it chosen him?

As the whispers grew louder, a vision took shape in his mind—a vast, burning city, its towers crumbling under the weight of an unseen force. At the center of the chaos stood a figure cloaked in fire, its eyes blazing with the same light as the Ethereal Flame.

"Who are you?" Yǒnghéng murmured aloud.

The figure turned, its gaze piercing into his soul.

"I am the beginning," it said, its voice resonating like a thousand echoes. "And I am your end."

Yǒnghéng's eyes snapped open, his heart pounding. The flame in his hand flared wildly before subsiding, leaving him breathless.