Tang Yan didn’t deny the fifth floor’s peril. Without blood-soaked combat experience or a wealth of dueling expertise, traversing that path would be several times harder than the fourth floor.
Taking a deep breath, his gaze settled on the passage to the sixth floor, an inexplicable excitement stirring within him.
He felt an odd sensation—a pull, as if something on the sixth floor held an irresistible allure. Curious, Tang Yan’s expression shifted to one of shock as he traced the source: it stemmed from the Heaven and Earth Creation Flame within him.
At that moment, inside his dantian, the Creation Flame flickered intermittently. Though the rhythm was slow, such an anomaly in this extraordinary entity was rare and immediately caught Tang Yan’s attention.
Adjusting his state, he stepped into the passage and ascended to the sixth floor.
The moment he arrived, a wave of heat washed over him.
Tang Yan could distinctly feel the Creation Flame’s pulsations quicken with delight.
Surveying the sixth floor with curiosity, he noted its eerie contrast to the five below.
On the northern wall, two bold, vigorous characters were carved: “Soul Refining.”
The floor was etched with concentric circles, like targets, radiating inward ring by ring.
At the center of this lotus-like pattern danced a white flame, leaping and burning on the ground.
The Creation Flame’s restlessness was tied to it.
A sudden thought struck Tang Yan: this flame might be one of the spiritual fires born of heaven and earth. The Creation Flame’s excitement likely stemmed from a desire to devour it.
After a moment’s hesitation, Tang Yan cautiously approached the center.
The white flame seemed to sense his proximity, swaying abruptly.
The circular patterns on the floor morphed into rings of fire.
A scorching heat enveloped Tang Yan, his instincts urging retreat. Yet, he noticed his clothes remained unburned beneath the flames. Suppressing the impulse to flee beyond the circle, he held his ground.
The heat was peculiar—no sweat beaded on his skin, yet he felt drenched in perspiration.
It was as if a fire were searing his very soul.
Recalling the “Soul Refining” inscription, Tang Yan’s mind clicked. Could this floor be a test of soul strength?
For an alchemist, soul power directly influenced mental focus—the stronger the soul, the better the control over the refining process.
Even if he couldn’t pass this trial, tempering his soul in such an environment would be a rare opportunity.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
Decision made, Tang Yan took another step forward.
With each inch closer to the center, the flame’s white hue deepened, intensifying the burning sensation.
Fortunately, his soul strength surpassed that of most.
The fire circle spanned roughly twelve meters. Tang Yan advanced ten meters without strain before halting.
A gnawing, bone-deep torment gripped him, tempting him to plunge into an ice pit for relief.
His body trembled faintly, but he remained silent. Gritting his teeth to steady himself, he lifted his leg and edged forward another half meter.
A fiercer pressure descended, his trembling worsening.
Resisting the urge to escape, Tang Yan circulated his true qi, spreading it throughout his body to combat the soul-refining agony.
*A sword’s edge is honed through grinding; a plum blossom’s fragrance blooms from bitter cold.* He’d endured such suffering in the inner martial world before!
As a skilled alchemist, faltering in a test of soul strength would plant a seed of doubt in his alchemical path.
Tang Yan wasn’t sure if another step would knock him unconscious, but retreat wasn’t an option.
Eyes bloodshot, he fixed his gaze on the white flame a meter away. With a surge of resolve, he activated his fire-control technique.
The Creation Flame erupted into jubilant motion, dancing around him under his command.
The white flame, sensing the Creation Flame’s presence, recoiled as if confronted by a fearsome entity. Its blaze weakened, flickering timidly in the air.
The pressure on Tang Yan lifted instantly, the searing heat vanishing.
A trace of surprise flashed in his eyes. The white flame’s demeanor resembled a subject prostrating before a king.
Could flames, too, have a hierarchy of ruler and vassal?
Recalling the *Supreme Alchemy Scripture*, a wild glint sparked in Tang Yan’s eyes.
The Creation Flame could devour other spiritual fires to grow stronger.
Could it consume this white flame?
*Worth a shot!*
A powerful suction erupted from Tang Yan’s palm. The white flame, as if sentient, sensed the danger and flared up in resistance.
Caught off guard, Tang Yan’s mind reeled with dizziness.
Biting his tongue to sharpen his focus, he clenched his jaw and unleashed his fire-control technique in full.
*Boom!* Under the Creation Flame’s dominance, the white flame struggled briefly before being sucked entirely into Tang Yan’s body.
He knew the critical step now was fusion!
Though the Creation Flame was formidable, until fully refined, the white flame could still harm him.
The soul-scorching burn returned, fiercer than before.
Tang Yan gritted his teeth, maintaining his fire-control technique without pause.
As time passed, his body quaked relentlessly, dense sweat beading across his skin.
He noticed that, with his persistent refining, the white flame was gradually being consumed by the Creation Flame.
As its power waned, the devouring quickened. Soon, the white flame ceased resisting.
The soul-refining sensation faded completely. With a faint *hiss*, the white flame vanished entirely, leaving Tang Yan’s body light and unburdened.
Exhaling deeply, he opened his eyes.
Sensing the Creation Flame, he found its energy unstable—the white flame wasn’t fully integrated and required further melding.
Still inside the Deathstrike Tower, Tang Yan decided to leave for now.
Glancing around the sixth floor, he noted the circular patterns remained, though the central flame was gone.
“I wonder how the Deathstrike Tower will react when they find the Soul-Refining Flame missing.” Tang Yan silently hoped the sixth floor’s change wouldn’t be noticed anytime soon.
Outside the tower, the crowd buzzed with speculation.
“It’s been almost half an hour—why hasn’t that kid come out? Could he really have reached the third floor?”
“Or maybe he died inside? Let’s wait a bit longer…”
Everyone watched eagerly. Apart from Lin Xiao and Wan Fei, most had bet on whether Tang Yan would emerge from the second or third floor.
“City Lord Lin, where do you think Tang Yan will come out?” Wan Fei asked.
A flicker of anticipation crossed Lin Xiao’s eyes. After a thoughtful hum, he said, “Fourth or fifth floor. What’s your guess, Miss Wan Fei?”
“At least the fifth!” Wan Fei replied firmly, recalling Tang Yan’s feats in Cangyun Mountain.
“Let’s hope so,” Lin Xiao nodded.
*Boom!*
The sound of a door opening rang out.
All held their breath, eyes darting between the second and third floors.