Chapter 98 – The Eternal Volt Sutra
The underground training hall was silent, save for the hum of formations carved into its walls. No sunlight touched this place. Only the cold, pale glow of etched symbols illuminated the stone chamber.
Moon sat cross-legged in the very center, his breath steady, his eyes calm. In his left hand was a crystalline bottle filled with a shimmering blue essence fluid, refined to a purity so high that even the sealed glass trembled faintly. In his right hand was a folded note, the handwriting so casual yet confident that Moon already knew who had sent it.
He unfolded it, scanning the words.
> "You must have guessed—it's me, Zambandari. Last time I admit I got carried away, so forgive the excess. (＾ω＾) Anyway, here's something more proper. First, finish the entire bottle of condensed essence fluid. After that, practice the essence art I've passed to you. And don't forget the essence technique I attached—train both. —Zambandari."
Moon exhaled, shaking his head with a faint smile.
(This old man… why does he act like we've known him our whole lives? His tone is so casual, yet the things he gives us are… monstrous.)
His storage ring flashed. A tightly sealed scroll materialized before him. With a thought, Moon touched it, and the parchment unraveled—not outward, but inward. The entire scroll dissolved into threads of light that lanced directly into his mind.
A tidal wave of information slammed into him. His head throbbed as runes, circulation diagrams, and soul-frequencies carved themselves into his consciousness. He clutched his temples, groaning softly.
Then—
[Ding!]
A mechanical tone resounded through his mind.
Essence Art Detected.
Name: Eternal Volt Sutra
Rank: Seven-Star Essence Art
Description: This sutra binds the cultivator's soul frequency with the fundamental vibration of lightning. By harmonizing with the Multiverse's electro-frequency, the user becomes a living conductor of heaven's will.
Specialized Techniques:
1. Silent Flash – Movement at electro-resonance speed, leaving no detectable trail.
2. Pulse Reading – The ability to perceive lifeforms through their bio-electric signatures, reading both life force and intent.
3. Heaven Breaker – Lightning refined to its purest, most compressed form, capable of annihilating barriers and piercing the void itself.
Moon's pupils contracted. His breathing quickened.
(Seven-Star…? Does such a thing even exist?)
He had heard whispers of six-star essence arts—mere whispers, things spoken about in awe around bonfires or by storytellers in markets. But he had never seen one with his own eyes. The strongest elite hunters he knew—Thomas, Taejin, even the Rejected Winter—possessed only five-star arts.
And here, in his hand, was a seven-star sutra.
His lips curled into an irrepressible grin. Energy surged in his chest, and before he could stop himself, he leapt up like an excited child.
"Hah! Old man, you're insane! You're truly insane! But damn it—I love you for this!"
His laughter rang through the empty chamber, the sound rebounding endlessly, filling the hollow underground hall with echoes of raw exhilaration.
But joy didn't idle long in his chest. Moon's excitement burned into determination. He raised the crystalline bottle, its shimmering essence fluid glimmering like captured lightning. Without hesitation, he uncorked it and drank it all in one long, steady pull.
The liquid scorched down his throat like molten thunder, flooding his stomach, surging through his veins. At once, his body convulsed. Muscles spasmed, bones shivered, skin prickled as though pierced by a thousand invisible needles.
Moon clenched his jaw. Steady. He drew a deep breath, forcing his trembling limbs under control, and sank cross-legged onto the cold stone floor.
The Eternal Volt Sutra unfurled in his mind like a celestial map—intricate, flawless. Every vein, every meridian, every hidden micro-channel of essence was charted with luminous clarity, as though carved directly into his soul. With sheer will, he guided the storm of lightning essence into those prescribed routes.
And then—
"Bhhmmm… bhhmmm… bhhmmm…"
The sound arose, not from the world, but from within. His blood vibrated. Each drop resonated like struck crystal. His meridians thrummed with a metallic hum, like endless wires under unbearable charge. Even his bones quivered faintly, echoing with the sound of struck bells.
At first, the essence coursed like vapor—light, airy, fleeting. Yet every cycle of the Sutra compressed it tighter, refining it denser, until it moved like liquid mercury streaked with lightning. His dantian pulsed, sparks crackling within it, while his soul sea rippled violently as the sutra's rhythm fused into its depths.
Minute by minute. Hour by hour. His transformation advanced.
Meridians: They expanded, threads once frail as silk now reinforced as though lined with unseen copper-gold filaments. Each pulse of lightning refined them further, making them broader, tougher, and more conductive—channels no longer fragile pathways, but thunder-roads.
Blood: His blood boiled with heat, each cell igniting like a spark. It no longer flowed silently; instead, it crackled faintly, carrying microscopic currents that made his very circulation resonate like storm clouds.
Cells: Each cell became a conduit, absorbing electric impulses, discharging in harmony. Tiny flashes of light flickered beneath his skin like fireflies of lightning, microscopic yet endless.
Soul Flame: Deep in his soul sea, his flame trembled violently before stabilizing. Its rhythm shifted. Every flicker beat in sync with thunder's cadence, as though heaven's drums had been engraved into the core of his existence.
The pain was unbearable—searing, tearing, as if his body was being shredded into strands and rewoven anew with threads of pure lightning. His skin blistered, cracked, and healed instantly. His teeth clenched so hard blood seeped from his gums but he had endured pain far worse than this , monstrously worse than this so he refused to stop.
And beneath that agony—was joy. Raw exhilaration. The ecstasy of breaking limits.
Time blurred.
Hours became indistinct. His consciousness drifted between clarity and haze, between meditation and instinctive survival. The essence fluid was inexorable, every drop crushed, digested, and absorbed until nothing remained.
At last—one full day later—silence fell inside him.
The bottle's gift was spent.
Moon opened his eyes.
Sparks flickered faintly across his skin, leaping from fingertip to fingertip before fading. His very being radiated a subtle hum—his body no longer just flesh, but a living conductor of storm.
Lightning shimmered in his pupils, faint arcs hidden behind the calm surface of his gaze. His aura had sharpened; even his breathing felt edged, each inhalation pulling currents from the air, each exhalation releasing invisible static.
He clenched his fist. The very air responded—motes of dust quivered, the hairs on his arms rose, and the chamber itself seemed to prickle with awareness.
"So this…" his voice was low, reverent, filled with awe.
"…is just the beginning of the Eternal Volt Sutra."
A hunger burned deep within. The storm in him had barely awakened—yet it craved more.
With steady resolve, Moon reached for another crystalline bottle from his storage ring. The fluid inside shimmered like compressed lightning storms, swirling ominously in the glass. Its glow reflected in his eyes—eyes filled with determination, obsession, and an unspoken promise to himself.
He tilted it back and swallowed.
The second flood of lightning essence roared into his system. His body convulsed again, harsher than before, but his will was unwavering.
Cross-legged once more, Moon pressed his palms together. The Eternal Volt Sutra's pathways lit up in his mind, like constellations of lightning in a void sky. He began guiding the storm with precision, with hunger, with purpose.
And so, once again, the underground hall filled with the low, thrumming vibration of lightning merging with flesh, soul, and spirit.
The storm had only just begun.
—To Be Continued.