Heir Of Lightning The library was silent except for the soft rustle of parchment and the steady scratching of quills from distant desks.Kirin sat cross legged in one of the far corners, surrounded by towers of open scrolls and thick books that leaned against one another like tired old men. A single sphere of dim white light floated above his head, flickering now and then as if it too was trying to stay awake.He had been here for hours, possibly since morning and though his body felt stiff, his mind was alive, almost buzzing.For the first time since stepping foot into the Institute, Kirin felt like he was beginning to understand where he was.The book in his hands was an ancient leather bound volume with golden edges, its cover marked by an unfamiliar symbol, a circle divided into six equal parts, each etched with strange runes. The title was faintly legible, written in old script. “Divine Spheres of Aethoria.”He turned the page carefully.The first line struck him like a revelat

The night air hit Kirin’s face the moment he stepped out of the library. It was cool and crisp, humming faintly with the quiet life of the Institute. Lanterns lined the paths, floating spheres of pale blue light, held aloft by invisible force. They swayed gently, responding to the faint ripples of elemental energy in the air. Kirin blinked and rubbed his eyes. He hadn’t realized how long he’d been buried in those scrolls and books. His back ached, his shoulders stiff, and his legs were so numb he nearly stumbled on the steps.“Force and attraction,” he muttered under his breath. His voice sounded hoarse, dry from hours of silence. “Push and pull. Lightning isn’t just destruction, it’s also movement.”The thought stayed with him as he walked. His mind still replayed everything he had read, the diagrams, the cryptic writings, the sketches of energy flows that resembled the magnetic lines of force. For a moment, he almost felt the world itself responding to his thoughts, like the air shi

The hum of energy inside the Hall of Indra was unlike anything Kirin had felt before. The moment he stepped through the doorway, it was as though the air itself was alive... vibrating faintly, thick with the static of hundreds of lightning auras pulsing together in rhythm. Every breath he took felt charged, like inhaling a thunderstorm.The hall stretched wider than he had expected, circular from the outside but hexagonal within, built from white stone etched with blue runes that pulsed faintly every few seconds. Each pulse was followed by a low rumble, like distant thunder. A series of seats curved around the center in descending levels, forming something like a grand amphitheater.Kirin paused near the top, scanning the crowd. There were dozens of students, some older, some younger but all dressed in shades of blue and white robes similar to his. The low buzz of chatter filled the hall until a single spark cracked from the center platform.“Silence,” a calm yet commanding voice said

The midday sun glared through the arched windows of the academy halls as Kirin followed Rem in silence. His mind was still lingering on the words of the lightning master, life and destruction. The duality of it all fascinated him, but there wasn’t much time to reflect. His next class awaited, and according to Rem, this one wasn’t about theory or meditation.It was about combat.Rem stopped before a massive set of bronze doors that hummed faintly with a trace of electricity. A sign carved into the metal read: Sparring Grounds... Martial Techniques Division.Kirin tilted his head slightly. “So... sword fighting?”“Not just sword fighting,” Rem replied. “Weapon mastery infused with elemental resonance. In this case... lightning.”Kirin raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “So they’re teaching how to conduct lightning through steel?”Rem’s lips curved slightly. “Among other things. You’ll see soon enough.”With a push, Rem opened the doors, and the faint hum became a roar of energy and shouting.

The air inside the sparring grounds was filled with the thick scent of sweat, steel, and static. Crackles of energy occasionally jumped off the walls as cultivators clashed, their swords glinting under the high sun that streamed through the open rooftop. Each strike was a demonstration of technique, every movement a test of precision and control. But Kirin, his body tensed, his hands gripping the blade but he wasn’t focused on anyone else. He was losing control over himself.He lunged forward, sparks of regular lightning flickering weakly along the edge of his sword. His opponent met him with sharp precision, deflecting the strike and countering instantly. Kirin barely parried the blow, the vibration from the impact running up his arms. He could already feel the imbalance, his lightning lacked depth. It was too shallow, too fragile compared to the weight of his opponent’s energy.“Your stance is wide. You’re leaving yourself open!” the brown haired young man barked as he attacked agai