Beast Master: I'm the strongest.

The flaming figure charged, its blazing silhouette an echo of Yǒnghéng's movements. Its every step mirrored his, its attacks perfectly synchronized, as though it were a living reflection born of the Ethereal Flame itself. Yǒnghéng barely dodged the first strike, the heat from its outstretched hand singing the air near his face.

The chamber quaked with the force of their collision, each exchange of blows sending ripples of fiery energy through the air. Yǒnghéng summoned the Ethereal Flame to his fists, striking out in desperation, but each time his opponent parried with an identical attack. The realization hit him like a stone: he wasn't just fighting a reflection of his body—this was a reflection of his will.

Seris stood back, watching helplessly as Yǒnghéng struggled against the creature. Her magic crackled at her fingertips, but the energy of the brazier pulsed with an ancient force that repelled her attempts to interfere. "Yǒnghéng!" she called out. "This is your trial. You must overcome it on your own!"

The flaming figure struck again, forcing Yǒnghéng to his knees. Its gaze burned into him, as though it could see every doubt, every fear lurking in his heart. The whispers of the Ethereal Flame grew louder, clawing at his resolve.

"You are weak," the figure hissed, its voice like a roaring inferno. "You doubt yourself at every turn. You seek power, but you are afraid of what it demands."

Yǒnghéng gritted his teeth, rising to his feet. "I've spent my whole life hearing that!" he shouted, his voice echoing through the chamber. "From my brother, from the villagers, even from myself. But I'm still here! I'm still fighting!"

The figure hesitated, its movements faltering for the first time. But the pause was brief. It surged forward again, its strikes faster, more brutal, forcing Yǒnghéng to retreat. Each blow seemed to sap his strength, the chaotic energy of the flame overwhelming his senses.

His vision blurred, and memories flashed before his eyes: his grandfather's disappointment when he failed to awaken his Soul Construct, the mocking laughter of the villagers, Yǔzhi's cold, disdainful words. The weight of those moments threatened to crush him.

Then, a different memory surfaced. The Rite of Tempering. The Spirit of Balance's voice echoed in his mind: "Chaos is never truly tamed, but it can be guided."

Yǒnghéng's breathing steadied as he focused inward, turning his attention to the flame within him. He realized he had been fighting the reflection on its terms, letting it dictate the flow of the battle. If this was truly his will made manifest, then he had the power to reshape it.

The next time the figure lunged, Yǒnghéng didn't retreat. Instead, he stepped forward, meeting the attack head-on. His flame flared brighter, his will pushing back against the chaos. Each strike he delivered carried not just power, but purpose.

"You're wrong," Yǒnghéng said, his voice firm. "I don't fear power. I fear being powerless to protect the people I care about. That fear drives me, but it doesn't control me."

The figure recoiled, its form flickering as cracks appeared along its fiery body. It lashed out again, but Yǒnghéng was ready. He channeled the Ethereal Flame into a focused burst, his energy aligning with the brazier's pulsing rhythm. The chamber seemed to resonate with his resolve, the carvings glowing brighter with each passing moment.

With a final, decisive blow, Yǒnghéng struck the figure's core. The impact sent a shockwave through the chamber, the flames of the reflection dissolving into motes of light. The brazier's flame roared once more, stabilizing into a steady burn.

Yǒnghéng collapsed to his knees, the Ethereal Flame in his chest now calm and steady, its chaotic energy subdued. The whispers had faded, replaced by a deep, resonant silence.

The voice from the brazier spoke again, its tone one of approval. "You have proven your resolve. The Ethereal Flame is no longer your master—it is your ally. But remember, Yǒnghéng: power is a responsibility. Wield it wisely."

As the brazier's light dimmed, Seris rushed to Yǒnghéng's side, her expression a mix of relief and awe. "You did it," she said softly, helping him to his feet. "You faced the chaos and won."

Yǒnghéng looked at his hands, the faint glow of the flame pulsing beneath his skin. "It's not over," he said, his voice steady. "This is just the beginning."

Seris nodded, her silver eyes glinting with determination. "Then let's make sure you're ready for what comes next."

The two left the chamber, the ruins behind them silent once more. But as they stepped into the open air, Yǒnghéng couldn't shake the feeling that the brazier's trial had set something in motion.

The air outside the ruins was crisp, laden with the faint hum of distant mana currents. Yǒnghéng's steps were heavy, each one a reminder of the battle he'd just fought. Yet there was a strange peace in his chest, the Ethereal Flame now a steady presence rather than a storm.

Seris glanced at him, her usually sharp gaze softened. "You've changed," she said. "The way you carry yourself—it's different."

Yǒnghéng looked at her, then at the horizon where the dense forest of Verdant Hollow stretched endlessly. "I had to," he replied. "I've been running from my own doubts for too long. Now I have to face them, just like I faced that reflection."

Seris opened her mouth to respond, but a faint rustle from the trees cut her off. Both of them froze, senses heightened. The air grew colder, and the forest seemed to darken as though the light was being drained from the sky.

A figure emerged from the shadows, clad in a tattered black cloak. Their face was obscured, but the crimson glow of their eyes pierced through the gloom. Yǒnghéng's breath caught. He recognized that gaze—it was the same one that had watched him in the Whispering Abyss.

"Impressive," the figure said, their voice smooth and resonant. "You've managed to temper the Ethereal Flame. Not many could claim such a feat."

Yǒnghéng stepped forward, his fists clenching. "Who are you? Why were you watching me in the Abyss?"

The figure tilted their head, a faint smile curling beneath their hood. "A curious question. Perhaps a better one would be: why were you chosen to bear such power? Do you truly think it was chance that led you to the flame?"

Yǒnghéng stiffened, his mind racing. "What do you mean?"

The figure ignored his question, their attention shifting to Seris. "And you, young sorceress. So loyal to the boy, yet you don't even understand the forces at play. Tell me—what will you do when his power becomes too much to control?"

Seris bristled, her silver eyes flashing. "Yǒnghéng is stronger than you think. Whatever game you're playing, he'll win."

The figure chuckled, a low, ominous sound. "Strength is not the issue, child. The Ethereal Flame is a fragment of chaos—a power that bends even the strongest wills. You may think you've mastered it," they said, turning back to Yǒnghéng, "but chaos has a way of slipping through the cracks."

Yǒnghéng took a step forward, the flame in his chest flaring in response to his rising anger. "If you've come to threaten me, save your breath. I'll face whatever comes, just like I always have."

The figure's smile widened. "Oh, I'm not here to threaten you. Quite the opposite—I'm here to guide you. The Ethereal Flame is only a piece of a far greater power, and if you truly wish to understand its purpose, you'll need more than resolve."

Yǒnghéng frowned, his instincts screaming not to trust this person. "Why would you help me?"

"Because," the figure said, their voice dropping to a whisper, "the chaos within you is tied to something far older than you can imagine. And if you don't learn to control it, it will consume not just you, but everything you hold dear."

A heavy silence fell, the weight of their words pressing down on Yǒnghéng like a physical force. He exchanged a glance with Seris, who gave a subtle nod, her trust evident despite her wariness.

"What do you want from me?" Yǒnghéng finally asked.

The figure extended a hand, a faint glow emanating from their palm. "Meet me at the Lunar Pinnacle," they said. "There, I will show you the truth."

Before Yǒnghéng could respond, the figure dissolved into a cloud of shadow, their presence vanishing as quickly as it had appeared. The forest seemed to exhale, the oppressive energy lifting.

Seris turned to Yǒnghéng, her expression conflicted. "You're not seriously considering this, are you? That person—whatever they are—can't be trusted."

"I know," Yǒnghéng said, his voice steady. "But if they're telling the truth, then I need to know what I'm dealing with. If there's more to this flame, I can't afford to ignore it."

Seris hesitated, then nodded. "If you're going, I'm coming with you. No way am I letting you face that alone."

A small smile tugged at Yǒnghéng's lips. "Thanks, Seris. I'll need all the help I can get."

As they made their way back to Verdant Hollow, the words of the mysterious figure echoed in Yǒnghéng's mind. The Ethereal Flame was only the beginning, and the path ahead was far more dangerous than he'd anticipated.

But Yǒnghéng had already made his choice.