For two unrelenting days, the Origin Shard embedded in Jalen's chest did more than absorb qi from the Flaming Blue Pond—it refined it, transforming raw flame energy into a form compatible with his body's cultivation. Now Jalen himself had never practiced flaming techniques. His mastery lay in theory and formation control, but his knowledge was vast. But now, thanks to the origin shard, he's now able to use flame qi.
And strangely, it didn't only benefit him. The shard's influence radiated toward Jael, who Jalen at first thought was suffering from heat poisoning or something worse.
He thought the child that he had grown some attachment towards was dying and was about to take him far from here, but the origin shard wouldn't allow it, and this angers him. But then he eventually understood why this damn shard didn't want Jael free from here because the flaming qi had awakened what he believed to be a dormant beast core. In other words, Jael possesses two beast cores, which is a very rare case in spirit beasts. And this core has an affinity with fire the weakness of Jael main core. Two opposing forces resided in one body, but Jael seemed to be alright somehow.
Now Jalen is hundred percent convinced that meeting this rare bloodline dragon child wasn't a coincidence, nor was finding this treasure. This darn shard was at it again, scheming, just like that time with Lloyd, which means there is something in this pond of high value that it wants, and Jael is the key to achieving it.
Jalen didn't dwell too long on the shard's interference. Whatever its motives, it was beyond his control—and truthfully, he stood to gain. So he chose to surrender to the fire.
As the shard refined the flaming qi within his primary core, Jalen's body adapted with startling efficiency. Within hours, he stood balanced at the pond's edge—one foot resting on its molten surface, where most cultivators would've been vaporized on contact.
The flame qi didn't disperse—it settled into his primary core, which was already fused with light and wind. The shard had repurposed it, transforming it into a reservoir for flame.
It didn't fuse the elements. It didn't rewrite them. It stored them.
The flame qi curled inward like embers drawn to a lantern, held in balance by the wind and light qi's inherent harmony. Jalen could feel it—heat layered over radiance, volatile but contained. His primary core now burned with triune purpose.
Jael followed.
They weren't the only ones to brave the heat. Those who had arrived on the same day as Jalen managed to inch closer—now just eight feet from the pond's searing edge. A few newcomers from the day before lingered farther back, fifteen feet out or more. The only reason anyone dared to approach was the miraculous end of the lightning storms, which had sealed off the mountain peak until just yesterday.
Among the observers stood Jaya, Walford, and Jaya's siblings. They had reached a sobering conclusion: the treasure only the royal family and top sects' texts talk about at the heart of the blue flaming pond was beyond their reach. Their strength, and that of their guards, was no match for the fierce cultivators already present. And the pond's deadly aura made getting any closer feel like stepping into a living furnace.
Still, the loss wasn't total. The surrounding flame of qi was so dense and potent that simply breathing it tempered their bodies and expanded their qi cores. For flame practitioners like them, the gains were nearly divine—refining their inner power with every inhaled breath. Even those not attuned to flame found themselves strengthened, their foundations reinforced by the charged air that saturated the summit.
By the end of the week, Jalen and Jael were no longer near the flaming pond—they were in it. Their garments had long been sacrificed to the heat, reduced to ash and memories. The first few hours inside were a trial by fire. Their skin blistered, their spiritual defenses cracked—but gradually, they adapted.
Especially Jael. Soon, he became far too comfortable, even playful. While Jalen sat cross-legged in deep cultivation, refining flaming qi that surged through every inch of his body, the boy harassed him with splashes and idle provocations.
Even idle splashing became a rite of renewal, child's play laced with destiny. The flaming essence in the pond was automatically fusing into the boy's body despite him not trying, strengthening his flaming core until his cultivation surged to the Star Realm.
Then, on the eighth day, the Origin Shard pulsed.
Silver light burst from Jalen's chest, wrapping around him like divine chains. Without warning, his body plunged deeper with Jael in arm—down past the flames, past the molten qi layers, past what any mortal should withstand.
Jalen had long since passed the point of pain. His entire body was covered in burn marks; every hair was scorched away. The shard didn't care about agony—it pulled him further, driving him to the pond's ultimate depth.
And there, at the bottom—beneath the pressure of ninety thousand years of dragon flame—lay a powerful formation that denied all who were unworthy. Jalen was one of them.
But Jael was different. The shard knew it. Jael was the key.
Jalen's fingers trembled—just briefly in protest to what the shard was about to do. But it was useless. He could feel it hijacking his body, twisting control from him like vines wrapping around bone. His arms moved without his will, legs shifting as though puppeteer by divinity.
And then, it happened. His breath caught. His chest burned with fury and confusion.
"No—" he rasped, the sound swallowed by flame. But the shard didn't care. His arm extended. His body hurled Jael forward, into the depths of the blazing formation. A scream clawed up his throat but never escaped. He watched, helpless, as the boy vanished into light. Jalen was fill with guilt by his action enabled by the origin shard.
The formation shimmered... then parted. A secret sub realm bloomed open—revealed like a scar beneath the spring.
Flames devoured the skies above it. At the center, a lone island floated amid molten chaos, and upon it pulsed a Flaming Dragon Beast Core the size of a boulder—a relic of a Sky Limit Realm creature long perished.
The pond had not been born of nature. It was born of blood.
This was no spring.
It was a grave.
Jael felt it before his mind could grasp it—a pull, a recognition. The Flaming Dragon Beast Core pulsed, not with hostility, but with remembrance. And Jael, though young, felt its echo stir within his blood. It called to him. And he to it.
But before the boy could move—before instinct could forge intention—the Origin Shard acted.
It blasted out a wave of silver light, surrounding the beast's core. The core fought back—releasing pulses of ancient flame, striking the silver light with rage. The clash of cosmic fire and divine resonance sent tremors surging through the sub realm and the pond above it. The surface quaked, rippling in patterns that shattered the confidence of every cultivator above.
Those nearest the pond were thrown backwards. Some lost limbs to the force; others simply burned into nothing. The flaming qi rose in waves—each sharper and crueler than the last.
Walford didn't wait. With an arm around Jaya, he vanished from the pond's vicinity using spatial blink formations. They weren't alone in their panic—every surviving cultivator made the same decision. Even the strongest among them backed away, giving up their pride for safety.
And beneath it all, at the pond's heart of power, Jalen remained.
Blackened. Broken. But alive.
Charred skin clung to shattered bone. His breath was shallow, silent. Yet within that ruin, something stirred.
His eyes flashed open—not with pain. Not with fear.
But with clarity.
The Origin Shard pulsed. It's not finish.
It had only begun.