The Coiled Dragon’s Legacy

The wind howled across the desolate dunes, carrying whispers of forgotten history as Li Feng, Mei Lian, and Zheng Wei stood before the ruins of the Temple of the Phoenix. The once-grand sanctuary, now half-buried in the golden sands, bore the scars of time and war. Crumbling pillars lined the temple's entrance, their surfaces etched with ancient carvings of flames and winged beasts. The air was thick with the scent of charred stone, as though the temple itself still burned with the echoes of the past.

Mei Lian ran a hand along the faded engravings, her brows furrowing. "This place... it's older than the Azure Dragon Clan itself. The texts spoke of a temple that housed a relic—the Flame Lotus. If it's still here, it may be our only chance to remove the sigil."

Li Feng, his body still aching from their battle with the phantom assassins, studied the inscriptions. Among the carvings, he saw depictions of a celestial battle—one that mirrored the visions he had glimpsed before. A massive dragon, coiled in the sky, clashed against a great, shadowy phoenix. Their battle scorched the heavens, flames consuming the earth below.

"The Coiled Dragon and the Shadow Phoenix..." he murmured. "This war—it wasn't just legend. It was real."

Zheng Wei, leaning heavily on his staff, exhaled sharply. "That means this temple might hold more than just a relic. It may hold the truth behind what Shen Longwei is truly after."

The monk took a step forward, but before they could advance, a deep, ominous laughter echoed through the temple's hollow corridors.

Jiang Ren.

The temperature seemed to plummet as the Scarlet Iron Sect's ruthless lieutenant emerged from the shadows, his blade gleaming under the temple's dying light. Behind him, figures clad in crimson armor fanned out—elite hunters of the Scarlet Iron Sect, trained assassins who never left a mission unfinished.

"You are persistent, I'll give you that," Jiang Ren said, his voice smooth but edged with menace. "But your struggle ends here. This temple, its relic, the secrets it holds—it all belongs to Shen Longwei."

Li Feng tightened his grip on his sword, his muscles coiled, ready. "We're not giving you anything. Not today."

Jiang Ren smirked. "You don't have a choice."

At his signal, the hunters sprang forward, blades flashing. The battle erupted within the temple walls, shadows dancing as steel clashed against steel.

Mei Lian spun, parrying a strike before driving her dagger into an attacker's shoulder. Zheng Wei summoned protective runes, creating a barrier that momentarily shielded them from a rain of arrows. But Li Feng's movements slowed—the Coiled Dragon Ring pulsed violently, draining his strength each time he drew upon its power.

Jiang Ren advanced, his strikes precise, unrelenting. "You're weakening, Li Feng," he taunted. "That ring—it's consuming you. You think you wield its power, but it is wielding you."

Li Feng gritted his teeth, blocking another attack. Jiang Ren's words cut deep—not just physically, but in the way that spoke to a terrible truth he refused to acknowledge.

As the battle raged on, a deep tremor shook the temple, dust raining from above. The very foundations of the ruin trembled, as though something within had awakened.

And then, the walls began to crack.

A new presence made itself known, unseen but undeniable.

Something was stirring beneath the temple.

The fight froze as all eyes turned to the temple's heart, where the deepest chamber lay sealed behind a door wreathed in golden fire. The Flame Lotus was close—but so was something else.

Jiang Ren's gaze flickered between Li Feng and the sealed chamber. A slow, dangerous smile spread across his lips. "It looks like the temple has its own secrets. Shall we see who claims them first?"

And with that, the doors burst open, revealing the unknown depths beyond. The next battle had only just begun.