All Chapters of Heir of Lightening: Chapter 161
- Chapter 170
281 chapters
Chapter 161. Shen’s Hobby.
Kirin’s mind was still burning with Vael’s words.Higher powers are watching you, he said.The thought felt like a brand carved into his skull. He had lived his entire life resisting chains, yet here he was, walking right into another cage, this time built not of iron bars but of suspicion. Vael had spoken with a calm warning, but underneath it, Kirin had heard the truth: they would not hesitate to erase him if he became a threat.And the worst part? They were right to be afraid.That vision of himself in full chaos, brimming with power that he could not recognise still lived in his chest like a restless animal. Sometimes, when he channelled his qi in training, he could almost feel that future self staring back at him. Was that what he was destined to become? And if it was, would there be anything of himself left?The prison memories came back. The chains. The endless humiliation. The screams in the dark. The laughter of demons who thought they had broken him.The thought of surrender
Chapter 162. Blood on the Leaves.
The sect was restless that morning.The whispering root was a tree that every disciple knew, even if they had never approached it. It stood at the far eastern end of the sect grounds, its bark black as burned wood, its branches stretched like a hundred grasping arms. The tree swayed when no wind touched it, whispering to itself with a voice no one understood. Old tales said it was older than the sect, older than Malakar itself, a fragment of something left behind from another world. Most disciples avoided it, afraid of how its leaves shivered like teeth.But this morning, the tree had company.A body.A junior disciple had screamed, her voice sharp enough to bring half the east wing running. By the time Vael arrived, with several cloaked enforcers behind him, the crowd had gathered in a tight ring, everyone whispering, craning their necks.The dead man lay flat on the roots, his face pale and his eyes open, staring blankly at the canopy above. His robes were neat, his hands folded by
Chapter 163. The Sky Arena.
The burial was supposed to settle things. A cultivator dead, covered under stone and silence. But instead of calming the whispers, the academy only grew louder.The new transfers had stolen attention, Aza with her quick tongue and sharper mouth, Shen with his cold precision, and Kirin, the quiet shadow that nobody quite understood. They didn’t fit into the academy’s fragile order. They weren’t bred nobles or trained elites. They were outsiders and outsiders had a way of disturbing the peace.Vael knew it. He could feel it like a sickness spreading. Rumors turned to suspicion, suspicion turned to paranoia. The burial hadn’t been the end of unrest, it had been the spark. And so, he made the choice he always made when the academy threatened to unravel, he threw the weak into the fire and let the flames show who deserved to survive.That was the purpose of the Sky Arena.The arena was a monster of stone and air. Suspended high above the academy grounds, a floating circle of platforms conn
Chapter 164. The Eyes in the Mist.
The victory at the Sky Arena should have brought relief. It should have silenced the endless whispers that had followed Kirin since the day he stepped into Malakar. Instead, it did the opposite.Word spread like fire in dry grass. His name carried through the academy halls, spoken in awe and in envy. Students that once sneered at him now stared like he was something alien. Some wanted to challenge him, others wanted to stand behind him, and the rest simply waited and watched to see what he would become.But it wasn’t only humans watching.It started the morning after his victory.Kirin woke earlier than Aza and Shen, stepping out into the courtyard while the sun was still fighting against the fog. The mist that morning was unusually heavy, rolling in thick waves over the training grounds, coiling around the academy’s walls like a living thing.At first, he thought it was only the lingering exhaustion playing tricks on him. But then he saw them.They were like shadows in the fog.Figur
Chapter 165. Ashborne Memory.
The days after the confrontation with the Judgers had left Kirin hollow. His body healed quickly, but his mind hadn’t. He found himself restless, unable to sit still, unable to sleep for long without snapping awake at the sound of his own breath. Every shadow in the Hollow Gate sect seemed sharper than before. Every passing glance felt like an accusation.He tried meditation, but his thoughts refused to quiet. He tried training, but the motions felt robotic, drained of spirit. He even tried forcing himself to eat, yet the food turned to ash in his mouth. Something inside him was fraying, tugging loose strand by strand.On the third night, when silence pressed down like a suffocating blanket, he decided he couldn’t remain inside his room. The walls felt too close, the air too stale. He needed space or maybe he just needed to move before his thoughts consumed him.So he slipped out.The Hollow Gate sect at night was eerily still. Moonlight bled across the tiled roofs, casting jagged shad
Chapter 166. Blades and Truth.
The image of the Ashborne locked behind blackened bars refused to leave Kirin’s mind. He had seen many cruel things in the underworld, demons devouring their own kin, tortured spirits clawing at eternity but nothing stung him as deeply as the sight of that creature, chained like an animal.It wasn’t just pity. The Ashborne was more than a monster, it was proof. Proof of what the Sanctuary hid, proof that Vael was keeping secrets. And secrets had teeth.Kirin walked the length of the Sanctuary’s stone corridor, his footsteps heavy, his jaw tight. Torches burned dim along the walls, their flames wavering in the stale underground air. He didn’t wait to calm himself. He didn’t plan his words. He pushed open the doors to Vael’s chambers with a force that made them slam against the stone.Vael was there, seated at his desk, quill in hand. The man didn’t even flinch. His silver hair fell neatly across his shoulders, his black robes untouched by dust or sweat. Only his eyes lifted, cold and p
Chapter 167. The Ghost Cultivator.
The days after his talk with Vael felt heavy. Kirin walked through the corridors of the Hollow Gate sanctuary with a storm on his face, but his silence spoke louder than any words. He had seen the Ashborne locked in that cell. It had looked back at him with those burning, empty eyes, a mirror of his own curse, a beast that was both alive and dead at the same time.And Vael, calm as always, had denied knowing how it got there.Kirin didn’t buy it. Not for a second.But what good was not believing when he had no proof, no strength, no authority? He could shout his doubts to the whole sanctuary, but all it would earn him was a swift death at the hands of the Hollow Gate sect. The truth was as simple as it was bitter, he was still too weak.He hated that feeling powerless. Like a dog barking at chains he couldn’t break.So for the next few days, he simmered in silence. He trained, ate, slept, but his mind never stopped pacing. His fists clenched until his knuckles cracked. The Ashborne’s
Chapter 168. A World of Chains.
Kirin’s body hit the floor the moment Eron dismissed him. His limbs felt like they belonged to someone else, heavy, stiff, and bruised. Anchorless martial arts were not like anything he had ever tried before. There was no rhythm, no predictable flow, no balance to lean on. Every strike demanded raw instinct, not memorized forms. His muscles screamed from the strain, his lungs burned as if he had swallowed fire, and his bones felt cracked from within.Eron had told him this was only the beginning. That to walk without an anchor was to fight with nothing but the weight of one’s will. No essence, no sword, no cultivation, no mercy. Kirin thought he understood, until the training broke him down to this.He staggered into the corner of his small room, collapsed against the wall, and let exhaustion drag him under.Sleep did not bring him peace.It dragged him into the same nightmare that had stalked him ever since he came to the underworld: the prison of chains.This time, it was different.
Chapter 169. The Day the Ground Bled.
Kirin hadn’t trained in two days.That in itself was unusual. Training was usually the only thing that kept him sane, every repetition, every swing of a blade, every pulse of Qi forced his mind into structure. But after that dream, the one that left his chest hollow and his skin cold, even the thought of sparring made his stomach twist. He didn’t want to pick up a sword. He didn’t want to focus his breath. He didn’t even want to look at the Hollow Gate.He sat alone by the shallow pond at the edge of the sanctuary grounds, tossing pebbles into the water. Each ripple broke the perfect reflection of the red sky above. His hands shook when he touched the water, like the dream had burned something into him that he couldn’t wash away.He kept telling himself it was just a dream. But every time he closed his eyes, he saw it again, the Ashborne crying out, the chains pulling tighter, the blood raining down like an endless storm. He woke up sweating, nails dug into his palms so hard they brok
Chapter 170. The Cultivator’s Choice.
The world was fire.Kirin’s lungs burned from smoke, the stench of ash and shadow choking the air. The cavern of the Sanctuary shook as another wave of shadow beasts surged in, their howls ripping through stone, their bodies writhing with black flame. He swung his blade until his arms screamed, but the tide never ended. For every beast he cut down, three more crawled out from the fissures in the walls.Aza’s voice cut through the chaos.“Kirin, your left!”He spun, blade clashing against jagged claws, the impact rattling his bones. Beside him, Shen staggered, his spear dripping with dark blood, his face pale, drained. They were all bleeding, all near collapse.And then the cavern cracked open with light.A rift tore through the air like a wound, shredding the battlefield into silence. The shadow beasts froze mid lunge. A golden portal flared, and from it stepped Vael.Not walking but descending.His robes carried the shimmer of runes, his staff glowing faintly, his eyes cold as winter