⚡ The Last Disciple of Lightning Peak
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🌪️ Outer Trial Grounds — As the Stormbound Soul Awakens
The awakening hadn't ended—
it had only just begun.
Aarush stood at the center of the trial grounds, his palm still pressed against the stone pillar.
Above him, the Stormbound Martial Soul hovered—not yet fully merged.
Sword and lightning clashed in the air, refusing to unite.
As though the heavens themselves questioned his worth.
The entire sect held its breath.
But far beyond the sect, something ancient stirred.
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🩸 A Distant Land — Unknown Demonic Sect
In a realm cloaked in crimson fog, far from the Uccot Sect,
a black-feathered demonic bird screeched as it fled from a blood-stained tree.
The skies darkened unnaturally.
Even the moon resembled a twisted eclipse.
Bats screamed through the air, fleeing toward a massive, blood-colored gate that creaked open.
Inside the sect's shadowed hall, a row of trembling disciples stood.
Their leader sat atop a high throne, draped in blood-red robes.
Long black nails curled like fangs ready to strike.
He laughed—
a sound deeper than the abyss.
At the center of the chamber, a mirror artifact hovered midair—its frame etched in bone and black crystal.
Through it shimmered a faint image:
Aarush, standing beneath a storm, lightning entwined with a sword of ancient qi.
The sect master's eyes locked on the mirror.
His grin vanished.
> "A Stormbound Soul… after ten thousand years…"
The room chilled.
Even the torch flames bent away from him.
A nearby disciple whispered, barely audible:
> "Master… what do you think of that Martial Soul's awakening?"
The master's hand snapped around the disciple's neck.
> "You ask my thoughts?"
His voice rumbled like thunder in the underworld.
"If you want to live… follow my command. Not my curiosity."
Silence fell.
The disciple nodded rapidly, eyes wide.
A scorpion crawled near the master's feet.
He crushed it without looking.
Its blood hissed—then vanished.
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🌪️ Back at the Trial Grounds
The crowd murmured.
The thunder sword above Aarush still clashed against the lightning.
Confusion spread.
> "Is it rejecting him?"
"Maybe the Martial Soul sensed he's trash…"
More voices joined in—some sneering, others mocking.
> "Tch… what kind of Martial Soul can't even recognize its master?"
"All that buildup—just for this?"
"This is what happens when trash dares to dream."
"Maybe the soul's trying to leave him and find someone better!"
Disciples chuckled loudly, shaking their heads.
> "Rootless orphan with no clan or talent. What did he expect?"
Laughter rose—
Until an elder turned sharply:
> "Silence!"
The courtyard froze.
Even Seriya's eyes widened.
She didn't know why,
but her heart silently pleaded for him to succeed.
Niva stepped forward slightly, whispering:
> "Come on. You can do this…"
Sybok—the boy with the double-sword Martial Soul—squinted.
> "Strange… it's also a sword, but not like mine. Everything about it feels… different."
Aarush's aura pulsed wildly.
Sylara stepped forward, voice firm and commanding:
> "Listen closely. This trial isn't a formality like it was for the others.
They absorbed their Martial Souls before arriving.
Yours has only just awakened.
Now—absorb it, Aarush. Let it be yours.
Control it."
He nodded slightly.
Sweat rolled down his temple.
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🌌 Within Aarush's Soul Sea
Darkness.
Silence.
Then—crackle.
Clouds above his Soul Sea churned like storm-tossed oceans.
Lightning arced across the void.
Beneath it floated a sword, surrounded by glowing runes.
A thick mist of spiritual pressure swirled around him—testing him.
Suddenly—
a deep voice echoed, as if spoken by an ancient being beyond time:
> "Heh. You've got potential, boy.
This is only the beginning."
The voice rippled across his consciousness—
through bone and blood.
It was the same voice from long ago,
when he'd first discovered his spiritual root.
From the storm clouds, a golden scroll descended—surrounded by chains of crackling thunder qi.
As it unraveled, silver characters blazed across the parchment—alive with energy.
> "This scroll holds the condensation rite of the Stormbound Soul.
Read it. Accept it.
Stop doubting."
Time froze.
Then the voice lowered, solemn:
> "I guided you from the shadows.
But next time…
we'll meet in reality. Not memory."
The scroll flared.
Aarush's body began to glow.
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⚡ Trial Grounds — Final Surge
Outside, his body trembled.
He hovered on the verge of collapse.
Sylara's voice cut through:
> "Wake up, Aarush! Don't give in now!"
He gritted his teeth.
A final surge of will—
He opened the scroll.
The words burned into his forehead like branded fate.
Above him, the sword and lightning roared—then merged.
A burst of light exploded across the courtyard.
He fell to one knee, panting.
Sylara knelt beside him, steadying his shoulders.
> "You're fine. Breathe. You did it."
Tears welled in his eyes.
But he smiled.
> "I'm all right… senior."
Niva exhaled, relieved.
Seriya clutched her robe, heart racing.
Sybok nodded slowly.
> "Interesting…"
One elder sighed, muttering:
> "Thank the heavens…
If he'd failed, we'd have to face that senior sister."
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