The morning came quietly, too quietly for a place like Indra’s Institute. Normally, the courtyards were alive with thunderous training noises, explosions of Qi, and the constant clash of students trying to outdo one another. But this morning, something hung in the air, like the tense calm before a storm. Kirin woke early, though he hadn’t really slept. The library’s shadows still clung to his mind, echoes of lightning sigils, whispers of forbidden knowledge, and that old blind man’s voice looping in his skull.“Even the gods tremble before those who master both birth and ruin.”He didn't even know why he remembered hearing that, he should have been unconscious and yet he still heard him. He didn’t understand the full meaning yet, but it lingered, hauntingly sweet and horrifying all at once.When the great bronze bell rang across the grounds of the institute, its deep resonance rolled through every hall and courtyard like a roar from the heavens. Students emerged in groups, chattering

The sky above Indra Institute was a swirling storm of gray and gold, veins of lightning splitting the clouds like angry cracks in heaven’s ceiling. The air itself seemed alive, humming with energy and the scent of wet metal.Day one of the Festival had arrived.The gates of the Academy were massive, rune etched doors taller than towers groaned open, and out spilled hundreds of cultivators dressed in armor, cloaks, and the raw arrogance of youth. Their weapons glowed faintly, each humming with its wielder’s Qi. The rhythmic tramp of boots against the soaked earth merged with the rumble of thunder.Rem floated silently beside Kirin, who adjusted the straps of his new armor, the black metal flashing blue under each flash of lightning. Around them, chatter and excitement buzzed like insects before a feast.“This is ridiculous,” Rem muttered. “It’s like releasing a bunch of blood hungry maniacs into a thunderstorm and calling it a festival.”Kirin glanced sideways at him. “You’re not wrong

The storm had never rested since the festival began. It rumbled endlessly above the forests of Indra’s outskirts, not a single patch of blue sky in sight. The clouds were a swirling ocean of gray and silver, glowing faintly as lightning weaved through them like veins. The air itself was alive, charged, humming with invisible tension.Kirin trudged through the wet grass, the remnants of his last fight still smoldering behind him. Every step left faint trails of static. The forest whispered with restless energy, leaves twitching, soil crackling.Rem followed a few paces behind, calm but cautious. His eyes scanned the mist ahead. “You should rest, Kirin. Your aura’s unstable.”“I know,” he said, flexing his fingers. Sparks rolled off his skin like drops of mercury. “That’s exactly why I can’t stop.”Rem frowned. “You sound like someone trying to justify insanity.”He grinned faintly. “Maybe that’s what cultivation really is.”The deeper they went, the louder the hum of energy became. The

The storm had no mercy that day.Lightning crackled endlessly above the black canopy, each flash illuminating shapes that didn’t belong, hulking beasts, claw marks longer than a man’s body, blood steaming in the rain. Kirin and Rem moved carefully through the dense forest, the air thick with static and dread.After the fight with Darius’s group, word of Kirin’s power had already spread. But now, even the whisper of his name didn’t feel important. Something had shifted in the outskirts... the energy, the air, even the beasts themselves.Rem halted abruptly. “Wait,” she whispered.Ahead, a burst of light cut through the trees, not lightning, but a clash of power. The sound followed a second later, a deep boom that rattled the branches. Kirin narrowed his eyes and gestured for silence. They crept closer until they reached the edge of a clearing.What they saw made both of them freeze.A Rank 2 student, someone who, by all rights, was leagues above Kirin was locked in a desperate battle a

The third dawn of the Festival rose behind a bruised sky. Thunder rolled in the distance, deep and drawn out, like the growl of something ancient that had just stirred from its slumber. The air was thicker today, heavy with moisture and static, the kind that clung to your lungs and whispered that something bad was coming.Kirin felt it. So did everyone else.He and Rem stood at the edge of the marshlands, where fog curled over the water like smoke, and the ground squelched with every step. The smell of sulfur and wet moss filled the air. Above, clouds gathered unnaturally low, sparking faintly with yellow arcs. The sound of thunder wasn’t random, it was rhythmic. Like a heartbeat.Rem adjusted the strap on his blade. “You’re sure this is the place?”Kirin nodded. “The map said the Leviathan’s domain lies beneath the storm that never ends.”He glanced up at the churning sky. “Yeah, that tracks.”Before them stretched miles of shallow water and mangrove roots twisting like black veins.