The return of the Kirin Heir

Forgotten Power, Sealed Flame

Rain continued to hammer the village, but Jin Longwei paid it no mind. He sat cross-legged on the dirt floor of the ruined hut, eyes closed, breath steady. His clothes clung to him, soaked and heavy. His body ached—starved, brittle, broken in more ways than one. And yet, there was power here. Deep within. Dormant. Sleeping.

He focused inward.

The spiritual sea within him—once vast and radiant in his past life—was now a fractured wasteland. His meridians, meant to carry spiritual qi like rivers, were clogged, dry, splintered. Every breath of spiritual energy was like inhaling fire through a shattered lung.

> “This body is… wretched,” he muttered. “How did I survive this long in it?”

The previous soul that had lived here had died from slow abuse: starvation, bullying, hopelessness. A village cripple, blamed for his parents’ deaths in a fire no one wanted to speak about.

Jin’s golden eyes narrowed.

> “You were thrown away… just like I was. And now your body is mine.”

He didn’t blame the boy. He pitied him.

But Jin Longwei was no stranger to rising from ruin.

He brought his hands together in a half-familiar seal. The motion triggered memories: sacred mantras, celestial pulses, forbidden paths of cultivation. He felt them all slip through his fingers like sand. His techniques were still within him, but the body could not yet bear them.

Then… something flickered.

Deep within his dantian, past the shattered spiritual veins and scorched pathways, a glow pulsed.

Not white. Not blue.

Black-gold.

A divine flame.

> “It still exists… The Kirin Flame.”

This was no ordinary fire. It was the ancient inheritance of the Kirin Bloodline—passed through cosmic trials, once thought extinct. The flame that could heal, destroy, purify, and resurrect.

And it had survived his death.

> “You waited for me,” Jin whispered.

The ember trembled in response, as if recognizing its true master had returned. Then, a voice—deep, ethereal, genderless—echoed through the chambers of his soul:

> “Heir of the Flameblood… rise.”

Suddenly, the ember surged. A burst of golden fire raced through his meridians, clearing years of rot and decay. Jin gritted his teeth as pain wracked his body. His muscles clenched. Bones cracked. Black blood spilled from his pores.

The body screamed in protest.

But he endured it.

He had once endured tribulation lightning from the Fifth Heaven. He could endure this.

The fire did not restore him to his peak—it didn’t even return him to the first stage of Qi Condensation. But it opened the path.

His meridians, once clogged and destroyed, were healing. Rebuilding. Slowly. Painfully.

He gasped and opened his eyes. A thin stream of steam escaped his lips.

He could breathe again.

> “It’s weak… but it’s mine again.”

The Kirin Flame retreated, now a small, pulsing light within him. Like a seed beginning to sprout.

His soul had returned.

His power had awakened.

And the path to vengeance had opened.

He looked down at his scarred hands. They no longer shook from weakness.

> “The first ember has been reignited.”

Outside, the wind shifted direction. Clouds pulled toward the mountain ranges in the east. Trees bent as if bowing.

The world was beginning to sense something.

Something old.

Something dangerous.

Jin Longwei smirked.

> “The Kirin Flame still remembers me.”

> “Now it’s time to make the world remember too.”