The world was quiet after the storm, but only for a moment.
A whisper of wind brushed across the shattered ridge, scattering burnt leaves and fragments of stone. Then the silence shattered—
as a crimson streak sliced through the clouds.
The Core Formation expert of the Scarlet Veil Sect reappeared, his aura flaring like molten fire. His killing intent painted the mountains crimson, and every living creature within miles fell silent, trembling under the pressure.
He hovered high above the ravine, scanning the terrain below. His spiritual sense rippled outward like invisible waves, combing every rock and shadow.
But Lin Feng was gone.
"You can't hide from me forever," the expert hissed, voice carrying through the thunder-thick air. "Your lightning may mask your aura, but your existence itself disrupts balance. You are marked."
He extended his hand. Crimson sigils formed in his palm—an ancient Tracking Art.
The sigils spread like veins across the land, glowing faintly with blood light.
Far below, Lin Feng crouched inside a narrow cavern, his breathing shallow. He had sealed his qi circulation, concealing his presence entirely. The faint glow of lightning still flickered around his core, but he forced it down with sheer will.
Sweat ran down his brow. He could still feel the oppressive pressure outside—the Core Formation expert's divine sense scraping across reality like blades of intent.
"Persistent old bastard," he muttered softly, pressing his palm to the cracked wall. "I can't outrun him forever…"
He glanced at his gourd. The once-bright golden vessel now pulsed faintly, leaking threads of electric mist. Inside it, spiritual liquid swirled violently—as if resonating with something deeper underground.
Then—he felt it.
A pulse.
Ancient. Steady. Alive.
The wall behind him vibrated faintly, releasing a subtle hum that echoed through his bones. Lin Feng's eyes widened as lightning veins lit up across the stone, forming circular runes that converged into a massive pattern.
"A formation…?" he whispered, standing slowly. "No—this isn't a formation. It's a… seal."
The moment his hand brushed the central rune, his gourd reacted violently. Golden lightning erupted, filling the cave with blinding light. The energy tore through his body—but it didn't harm him. It welcomed him.
The seal cracked open, releasing a torrent of light and thunder.
A cavernous gate of ancient bronze slowly revealed itself, etched with runes older than any sect's language.
Above it, a single line of text burned into view:
"When thunder bows, the Spirit Awakens."
A surge of energy rushed outward, shaking the entire mountain.
Above the clouds, the Scarlet expert paused midair. His eyes widened.
"What… what is that aura!?"
He looked down—golden lightning was spiraling up from the earth, twisting into the sky like a storm column. Even his spiritual core trembled in response.
Below, Lin Feng's eyes glowed fiercely as he stepped toward the ancient gate. Every nerve in his body screamed, but something deep within his soul—something ancient—called him forward.
"So that's it…" he murmured, voice trembling with both awe and exhaustion. "The lightning inside me—it's not ordinary qi. It's connected to… this place."
The air crackled. The symbols flared brighter, merging into his chest.
His bloodline resonated—the Wandering Thunder Veins awakening fully for the first time.
An invisible voice whispered through the storm:
"Descendant of the forgotten storm… you have come at last."
The pressure hit him like a tidal wave. Every cell in his body sang with pain and power as the ancient lightning flowed into him. He screamed—not in fear, but exhilaration.
The golden arcs intertwined with his crimson injuries, healing them instantly while engraving new marks across his arms—Runes of the Storm Sovereign.
The Core Formation expert descended rapidly, his rage twisting into disbelief as he felt Lin Feng's aura change—rising, refining, evolving.
"Impossible! That boy—he's awakening an inheritance!"
He gathered his qi, forming a spear of pure blood energy. "Then I'll destroy him before he completes it!"
But before the strike could fall, the ancient gate flared open, releasing a tidal wave of golden light.
A massive projection appeared behind Lin Feng—a titanic spirit formed of pure lightning, its eyes like twin suns.
The being's voice echoed across the sky:
"The storm does not kneel before heaven… and neither shall my heir."
The blood spear disintegrated midair. The Core Formation expert shielded himself, barely surviving the backlash. His once-imposing aura now trembled under the pressure of the awakening spirit.
Lin Feng stood at the heart of the light, his body surrounded by swirling energy. His wounds had vanished, his robes fluttering violently in the storm winds.
When he opened his eyes, they gleamed gold—pure and unyielding.
"Looks like I found my way out," he said quietly. "And maybe… my true beginning."
The expert stared down, pale with fury and fear.
"You think a mere inheritance will save you? The Scarlet Veil Sect—"
"—can wait," Lin Feng interrupted, lightning sparking around his fists.
"Because right now…"
He raised his hand toward the heavens.
"…I've got a storm to repay."
The skies answered. A blinding bolt struck, engulfing the ridge and swallowing both cultivators in golden-white light. The mountain roared as thunder danced across every peak, a storm that would be remembered for centuries as The Night the Spirit Awakened.