The wind that swept across the Thunder Plateau carried with it more than dust. It brought tension, layered and sharp, crawling into every courtyard, every training hall, every unspoken thought. The announcement of Feng Yinlei's participation in the Stormborne Ascension had struck the Silent Thunder Sect like silent thunder — no noise, yet everyone felt the tremor.
Outer disciples whispered in awe.
Inner disciples sharpened their blades.
And the Elders… watched.
But Yinlei?
He simply remained still.
Two days had passed since he accepted the challenge. He had not spoken, not trained publicly, not answered questions. He did not attend the summons of Sect Deacons or offer explanations to those who demanded one.
He had returned to the waterfall cavern at the edge of First Peak — the same place where his first seal had cracked in silence, where thunder once dared not fall.
Now, the cavern thrummed with a deeper force.
One far older.
Yinlei sat with legs crossed beneath the cascading water. His body trembled slightly, not from pain, but from a resonance that stirred deep within his dantian.
The Fourth Seal whispered.
It had not broken yet. But it pulsed now in rhythm with something beyond him.
The Dao was no longer just silent.
It was… waiting.
On the Third Peak's Spiral Terrace, a group of inner disciples had gathered for an unsanctioned meeting — the kind that avoided Elder eyes and Sect protocols.
"He dares stand beside us without earning his way through normal ranks?" said one with a sneer, a curved blade strapped across his back. "Feng Yinlei's silence is arrogance."
Another disciple shook her head. "I heard he awakened the Hidden Lightning Stone."
"A relic, nothing more. Tricks and chance."
Liu Xuannan arrived without announcement. The room fell silent.
"He's not using tricks," Liu said. "He's using something we don't yet understand. That's what makes him dangerous."
"Then why allow him to ascend?" asked the blade-wielder.
Liu Xuannan's eyes darkened. "Because if we can break him in front of the Sect, his myth dies before it takes root."
Gu Yao chuckled from behind him. "And if we fail?"
Liu didn't smile. "Then we learn who the real storm is."
Meanwhile, in the Hall of Echoing Records, Elder Shi Tianjing reviewed several jade slips suspended in glowing arrays. Each one recorded a moment — not spoken, but sensed — when a powerful intent was released across the Sect.
The slip marked "Day of Lightning Stone Awakening" hummed faintly. Still active.
Shi Tianjing narrowed his eyes.
"Your silence grows louder with each breath, Feng Yinlei," he murmured.
"But the Sect has endured louder threats before."
His hand passed over a final array. This one bore a red seal — used only for classified scrolls.
It read:
"Su Zhenyu – Deceased. Recovered Soul Fragment: Sealed."
He hesitated.
Then opened it.
The image flickered into view: a young man with a cold smile, dressed in black, his presence heavy with suppressed rage. His features were similar — eerily so — to a figure known by another name.
Su Zhenyu.Outer disciple. Deceased two years ago during an expedition to the Southern Ruins.
But his final soul imprint recorded something strange.
"…He's still here," the imprint whispered. "He never left. The Dao that doesn't speak… is watching."
Then it had burned itself out.
Shi Tianjing exhaled slowly.
Was this fate?
Or had the storm begun long ago — with someone else?
As the days crept toward the Stormborne Ascension, the Sect entered a state of quiet preparation.
Thunderstone banners were raised on every peak.
Stadiums carved from jade and lightning crystal were swept clean and lit with ethereal fire.
Vendors, artisans, and low-ranking elders emerged from isolation to prepare rituals and wards. Sect tournaments were rare — and this was one of the few moments outer and inner disciples would stand upon the same battlefield under the gaze of all five peaks.
But even in this great preparation… the talk remained fixed on one name.
"Feng Yinlei."
"Do you think he'll win?"
"He doesn't even speak. What can he do against techniques from the Inner Core?"
"Silence is powerful," came a quieter voice, "especially when it holds back everything."
In a quiet clearing north of the main arena, Su Yan stood alone beneath a leafless tree.
She wasn't sure why she was there.
Part of her wanted to see him again.
Part of her hoped she wouldn't.
Since he had saved the mute girl Xun Mei, something inside Su Yan had shifted. Not jealousy. Not grief.
Recognition.
He's walking a path I was never meant to follow.
And somehow, that gave her peace.
Still, when she closed her eyes, she could still see the way he'd turned to mist, to wind, to memory.
Not to leave her.
But to continue forward.
At last, the day arrived.
Stormborne Ascension.
The skies remained clear, but a strange, constant pressure hung over the sect. Like thunder paused in its descent.
Outer disciples were gathered on the western slope, wearing pale robes and number tags.
Inner disciples stood along the southern and eastern platforms, each one cloaked in radiant Qi and waiting for entertainment… or blood.
At the northern dais stood the Elders, flanked by formation masters and scribes. Even the Sect Master had emerged from seclusion.
And at the center of the main platform — a circular jade arena woven with lightning runes — stood the announcer, Elder Meng, whose voice carried across the whole mountain range.
"Stormborne Ascension shall begin!"
"Three trials. One disciple. He who endures shall ascend."
"Let the challenger step forth!"
The crowd murmured, eyes scanning.
Then came the silence.
A breeze.
And from it… a figure appeared.
Feng Yinlei.
Robe fluttering. Eyes calm. Not a single word spoken.
Elder Meng hesitated.
Then nodded. "Accepted."
Trial One: The Trial of the Roaring Sky
A roar cracked the sky as a blast of wind thundered into the arena.
From the eastern gate emerged a young man with glowing eyes and wind-forged fists — a third-stage inner disciple known for raw speed: Zhou Tianyi.
"I won't go easy," Zhou said, flexing his arms. "I've trained under Senior Liu Xuannan for two years."
Yinlei didn't respond.
The bell rang.
Zhou vanished.
Wind swept the platform.
Then — a collision.
But it wasn't sound that erupted.
It was silence.
Zhou's fist struck Yinlei's shoulder.
But it met… nothing.
The impact vanished into mist.
Then came a pulse — soft, like a breath.
Zhou's body froze mid-motion, eyes wide.
Then he collapsed.
Unharmed. Unconscious.
The wind stopped.
Elder Meng raised a hand. "Trial One: Passed."
The crowd was silent.
Then chaos.
"What did he do?!"
"I didn't even see any technique!"
"Did he use soul suppression?"
"No… that was will."
Trial Two: The Trial of the Shattered Flame
From the southern gate emerged a female disciple with golden-red hair, wrapped in fire Qi. Han Lianhua, a peak fourth-stage cultivator who specialized in exploding formations.
"I hope you like heat," she smirked.
She raised her hand. Five fire orbs appeared, forming a seal of eruption.
Yinlei blinked once.
The seal detonated — but before the flame could reach him, a circle of still air formed around his body.
The fire bent.
Then scattered.
Han's eyes widened. "That's not possible. Flame doesn't yield—!"
Yinlei stepped forward.
Once.
The fire went out.
She fell to her knees, gasping for air as her Qi scattered.
"Trial Two: Passed."
Trial Three: The Trial of the Thunderclash
This time, the arena shook before the challenger even stepped in.
Liu Xuannan stood at the edge.
"I'll take this one personally."
Gasps rippled across the crowd.
Elder Meng hesitated. "This is highly irregular—"
"I am within the rank required," Liu said coldly. "And this duel is overdue."
He stepped onto the field.
Yinlei did not flinch.
"You humiliated me. Disgraced the Triad. You think silence is a shield?"
Yinlei's hand rose.
No technique. Just presence.
Liu's eyes narrowed.
Then he struck — a bolt of thunder launched from his core, wrapped in six elemental layers.
Yinlei walked forward.
The bolt struck him—
And vanished.
No explosion. No crack.
The air shimmered with quiet.
Then came the fourth seal.
Snap.
It did not roar.
It simply… opened.
The arena cracked.
The jade runes dimmed.
Yinlei stood in front of Liu.
His presence surged.
And for the first time, the crowd felt it.
Silence… not as absence.
But as suppression.
As a domain.
Liu dropped to one knee, unable to breathe.
He raised his head. "What… are you?"
Yinlei looked down.
And for the first time—
He spoke.
A whisper.
One word.
"…Ascension."