Beast Master: I'm the strongest.

The morning after the vision, Yǒnghéng woke with a sense of urgency. The voice, the city in flames, and the cloaked figure haunted his thoughts. He felt as though the Ethereal Flame was trying to tell him something—but what?

The villagers avoided him as he walked through Verdant Hollow, their usual curiosity tempered by unease. Even children who used to play in the streets gave him wary looks, as though sensing the change in him. He tried not to let it bother him, but the isolation weighed heavily on his shoulders.

At the central hall, Elder Kael and Seris were waiting for him. The druid's stern expression and the mage's thoughtful gaze made it clear they had been discussing him.

"Yǒnghéng," Kael began, his tone grave, "Seris and I have agreed that your connection to the Ethereal Flame must be explored further. The visions you've described cannot be ignored. They are likely tied to the flame's origin."

Yǒnghéng frowned. "Do you know where it came from?"

Seris stepped forward, her silver eyes gleaming. "I have a theory. The Ethereal Flame may be a fragment of the Primordial Forge, an ancient power said to predate the Aetherians themselves. The Forge was believed to create and destroy with equal ease, shaping worlds before falling into ruin. If your flame is truly a shard of that power, it would explain its chaotic nature—and its sentience."

Kael nodded. "But such power is not meant for mortals. If left unchecked, it could unravel not only you but the balance of mana across Eryndor."

"So what do we do?" Yǒnghéng asked, his voice steady despite the fear curling in his chest.

Seris raised a hand, summoning a glowing map of the region. "We must seek the Cradle of Embers, an ancient site said to resonate with the Forge's energy. If the flame has a will of its own, the Cradle may hold answers—or a means to contain its influence."

Yǒnghéng hesitated. "How far is it?"

"Far enough that the journey will test you," Seris replied. "The Cradle lies in the Ashen Wastes, a desolate expanse plagued by mana storms and roving creatures. Few who enter ever return."

Despite the danger, Yǒnghéng's resolve hardened. "Then I'll go. If this is the only way to understand the flame, I have no choice."

Kael placed a hand on Yǒnghéng's shoulder, his expression softening. "You won't be alone. Seris will guide you, and I will ensure the village prepares provisions for your journey. But remember—this path is yours to walk. We can only guide you so far."

---

Two days later, Yǒnghéng and Seris set out at dawn, leaving behind the familiar comfort of Verdant Hollow. The road to the Ashen Wastes was long and treacherous, winding through dense forests, rocky cliffs, and barren plains. Along the way, Seris taught Yǒnghéng more about mana manipulation and the history of the Aetherians, her lessons punctuated by the occasional skirmish with wild beasts or bandits.

Though Seris was an experienced mage, Yǒnghéng quickly proved himself a capable fighter. The Ethereal Flame, though unpredictable, gave him an edge in battle, its raw power overwhelming foes with ease. Yet each time he used it, he felt its chaotic energy gnawing at the edges of his mind, whispering temptations he struggled to resist.

One night, as they camped beneath a canopy of stars, Seris watched him practice with the flame. She noted the way his movements grew more precise, his control over the fire improving with each attempt.

"You're adapting quickly," she said, her tone tinged with both admiration and caution. "But you mustn't grow complacent. The flame's power is seductive. If you rely on it too heavily, it will consume you."

Yǒnghéng extinguished the flame, his expression somber. "I know. That's why I need answers. I need to understand why it chose me."

Seris studied him for a moment before nodding. "The Cradle will reveal what you seek—but be prepared for the possibility that you may not like the answers."

---

After weeks of travel, they reached the edge of the Ashen Wastes. The air was thick with ash and heat, the ground cracked and barren. In the distance, the ruins of an ancient city rose like jagged teeth, their silhouettes warped by the shimmering haze.

"The Cradle lies within those ruins," Seris said, her voice barely audible over the howling winds. "But be wary. The Wastes are home to wraithforged, creatures born of mana storms and the remnants of the Forge's energy. They will not let us pass unchallenged."

As they ventured deeper into the Wastes, Yǒnghéng felt the Ethereal Flame growing restless, its energy surging in response to the environment. The whispers grew louder, more insistent, urging him to unleash its full power.

When the first wraithforged attacked—a hulking creature of molten stone and flickering light—Yǒnghéng hesitated, unsure if he could control the flame in such a volatile environment. Seris stepped in, her magic weaving barriers of light that deflected the creature's strikes.

"Focus, Yǒnghéng!" she called, her voice sharp. "Trust yourself!"

Gritting his teeth, Yǒnghéng summoned the flame, its chaotic energy roaring to life. He fought the wraithforged with everything he had, the battle pushing him to his limits. Though the flame's power was immense, it drained him quickly, leaving him gasping for breath by the time the creature fell.

Seris helped him to his feet, her expression both relieved and concerned. "You're stronger than I thought," she said. "But you can't keep fighting like this. The flame will break you if you don't learn to balance its energy with your own."

Yǒnghéng nodded, his resolve unshaken despite his exhaustion. "I'll learn. I have to."

As they pressed on, the ruins loomed closer, their jagged spires crackling with mana. The Ethereal Flame burned brighter in Yǒnghéng's hand, its light casting long shadows on the cracked ground.