When Mo rose, he was changed. His skin hummed with life, his eyes burned with golden fire, and the Azure shamshir now hovered at his back, bonded to his spirit.
Memories surged—not his own, but of ancestors who wielded storm and flame, who flew across the skies on beasts of light. He saw glimpses of the War of Sundering, the fall of the Titans, and the creation of the elemental seals.
He understood now. The Flame Sect sought not just power—they wanted to shatter the balance and let the old darkness return.
And only the heir of the Azure shamshir could stop them.
As he stepped from the vault, the sky above the lake cracked with lightning.
Mo looked up. He was no longer just a boy.
He was the ember of an ancient war rekindled.
He was the last of the Azure Line.
And his war was just beginning.