Chapter 1 - The Sacred Relic of the Ming Cult, The Holy Flame Token

Chapter 001: The Sacred Relic of the Ming Cult, The Holy Flame TokenOn the Silk Road through the Kunlun Mountains in the Western Regions, wind and sand billowed in all directions.

A sixteen-year-old boy had just killed twenty-three members of a Persian caravan with his bare hands, sparing only a single middle-aged man who was now on his knees, begging frantically, “Please… please don’t kill me… I’m not Persian… I’m Han…”

As he spoke, he removed the foreign cap from his head and peeled off a fake beard from his face, revealing a Han Chinese appearance.

“A Han?” The boy’s brow furrowed slightly. “If you’re Han, then why were you pretending to be a Persian merchant?”

The man hurriedly explained, “I… I committed a serious crime in the Central Plains… To escape the authorities… I joined this Persian caravan by any means possible… hoping to reach the Western Regions… to save my life… I beg you, young master, have mercy and spare me!”

As the boy listened, though the man appeared respectful and submissive, his eyes flickered and avoided meeting his gaze, clearly hiding something.

Without showing any reaction, the boy struck a pressure point on the middle-aged man, immobilizing him.

Then, he scanned the three camels that the Persian caravan had led along, noticing that each camel carried large, bulging sacks between its humps, which appeared to be packed with goods.

The boy opened each sack, discovering large quantities of gold, silver, jewels, silk, and tea. It seemed these were items acquired through trade in the Central Plains, intended to be taken back to Persia for sale.

Suddenly, he found a small iron box inside one of the sacks. The lid was locked, and it felt quite heavy in his hand.

Channeling his internal energy into his palm, the boy snapped the lock with brute force and opened the box. Inside, he found six jet-black, token-like objects neatly arranged.

Each of these six black tokens bore inscriptions and flame patterns. They varied slightly in length and size and were made from a hard, unique material that was neither gold nor jade. The intricate patterns gave the illusion of dancing flames, emitting a faint, mysterious glow.

These six black tokens were none other than the sacred relics of the Ming Cult, the Holy Flame Tokens.

“To think that not only did I master the Nine Yang Divine Art, but by sheer luck, I came across these six Holy Flame Tokens as well. My fortune is remarkable…” The boy held the tokens in his hand, examining them with a look of satisfaction in his eyes.

This boy was, in fact, a transmigrator from the modern era, whose soul had crossed into the world of . His soul now inhabited the body of a recently deceased boy named Ling Yihan. (From this point, the protagonist will be referred to as Ling Yihan.)

From the memories of his host, Ling Yihan learned about the period and the martial world he now inhabited, which differed slightly from the plot he remembered from . While the main storyline was mostly intact, some characters’ ages and relationships had undergone minor changes (these details will emerge in future plot points).

However, one fact remained certain: in this chaotic martial world, survival without powerful martial arts and influence was nearly impossible.

Determined to gain strength, Ling Yihan spent nearly a year journeying from the Central Plains to the Kunlun Mountains, evading both the Kunlun Sect and Zhu Wu Lianhuan Manor. He finally located the cave valley that Zhang Wuji had discovered in the original novel, where he retrieved the Nine Yang Manual from inside a white ape.

Having come prepared with a needle and thread, Ling Yihan stitched up the white ape’s wound after retrieving the manual. In gratitude, the ape often brought him large peaches from the valley.

These were no ordinary peaches. The white ape, originally raised by Xiaoxiang and Yin Kexi, should have lived only twenty to thirty years. However, after consuming the spiritual peaches that grew in the valley, absorbing the surrounding spiritual energy, it had survived over ninety years, nearly as long as Zhang Sanfeng.

Ling Yihan spent three years mastering all four volumes of the Nine Yang Divine Art (Zhang Wuji, afflicted with the cold poison of the Xuanming Divine Palm, had needed over five years). Not only did Ling Yihan reach an unparalleled level of inner strength, but by consuming numerous spiritual peaches, his physical constitution far surpassed that of ordinary men.

Upon completing his training, he left the valley and encountered the Persian merchants on the Silk Road. Needing supplies and funds, he chose to rob them. When they resisted fiercely, he killed them all in anger, sparing only the middle-aged man.

Ling Yihan walked over to the man, holding the Holy Flame Tokens in his hand, and asked indifferently, “Can you read Persian?”

The man nodded, “Just a little…”

Ling Yihan showed him the Persian text on the tokens, but the man could only understand a fraction of it. Frustrated, Ling Yihan struck him on the crown, killing him instantly.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t allow anyone else to know the secret of the Holy Flame Tokens while they’re in my possession. You have to die!” Ling Yihan said coldly, looking down at the man’s lifeless body, his eyes wide open in death.

The Holy Flame Tokens were originally sacred relics of the Persian Ming Cult, introduced to the Central Plains along with the Ming Cult’s teachings. They symbolized the Ming Cult’s highest authority, as if bearing the tokens equated to the leader’s presence.

According to the original story, however, during the rule of the Ming Cult’s thirty-first leader, the tokens were stolen by members of the Beggar Clan. Eventually, they made their way back to Persia and were entrusted to the Persian sect’s Three Envoys of Wind, Cloud, and Moon, who brought them to Spirit Snake Island, where they clashed with Zhang Wuji and his companions.

Had Ling Yihan not encountered them, these Holy Flame Tokens would likely have been taken back to Persia.

The Persian script on the tokens contained the Flame Token Divine Art, created by Persia’s , Hoshan. The techniques were strange and treacherous, and even Zhang Wuji, a martial arts prodigy, had struggled in his first encounters with the three envoys.

Of course, once Zhang Wuji had the text translated by Xiao Zhao, he mastered the Flame Token Divine Art and declared it the pinnacle of unorthodox martial arts. However, he found it inferior to the profound arts of the Nine Yang Divine Art, the Great Shifting Art, and Wudang’s Taiji Sword and Fist.

For Ling Yihan, who had just mastered the Nine Yang Divine Art and possessed immense inner strength but lacked techniques, the bizarre moves of the Flame Token Divine Art were a welcome addition.

Rummaging through the middle-aged man’s belongings, Ling Yihan found a jade seal and a letter.

The jade seal was old and chipped, with a corner filled in with gold. Though ancient, the eight Qin-dynasty seal characters engraved upon it shocked Ling Yihan. Searᴄh the NôᴠelFirё.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.