Spirit's Awakening: The Path of Lightning and Water-Chapter 324: Into The Storm

Two weeks passed in a steady rhythm of discipline. Each day followed a predictable cycle: hours spent cultivating in the Natural Lightning Nexus, refining his fused mana and honing the strength and power density of his inner heart world, followed by sessions inside a rented training hall where Lassim worked tirelessly on the spatial rune alphabet.

The rented hall had proven invaluable for his experiments. Its reinforced arrays and protective wards ensured he could test designs without risking another catastrophic incident like the one in his quarters. He’d been able to design and create at least three additional letters in this two week time span, slowly whittling away at the long, initial, list he’d developed for what he believed he’d need for the teleportation device project.

But despite his efforts, the progress on his fighting style—the core of what he wanted to develop—remained elusive. The spatial alphabet was growing slowly but steadily, with new concepts filling his notebook to add letters for.

His cultivation also advanced slowly, still only about a third of the way towards level 4 Spirit Ascension. An unexpected benefit was that the time devoted to sitting down, really feeling and absorbing and converting the mana, had made it so his control over the newly created fused mana deepened with each session. He was beginning to feel that he needed something else to call this "fused mana", but a proper name for this combined set of elements eluded him, just like the fighting style that made Lassim still feel... stuck.

On a day like any of the previous two weeks, Lassim stood in the center of the training hall, staring at the blank expanse of the wall. He’d just put away his tools and workbench after 4 hours of writing and brainstorming rune designs. He felt he’d made as much progress as he could make for today, but he still had thirty minutes left on the time slot he’d rented the hall for and they didn’t offer partial discounts if you left early.

His halberd rested lightly in his hand, its polished surface and elementally charged nature glinted faintly in the glow of the room’s mana lamps. The silence of the space was heavy, broken only by the faint hum of the hall’s protective arrays and his breathing. Having made no progress on his fighting style, he’d figured it was time to see if he could find inspiration.

"Maybe this will help," Lassim muttered, stepping forward to activate the training hall’s menu. A spirit panel materialized before him on the wall, listing the hall’s various functions. He scrolled through the options until he found what he was looking for: Construct Battle Simulation.

The system offered a variety of constructs to battle, each crafted with designs that were similar to the constructs back at the Lightning Sect Headquarters. Each designed to be mainly made from mana and only barely using array-bound materials to simulate different levels of training opponents.

Lassim selected the strongest available option: Peak Spirit Transcendent, Level 9.

"That should be strong enough to give me a decent gauge. Not like Spirit Mystic constructs are widely available," Lassim murmured. He didn’t want a challenge; he wanted insight that led to inspiration. To fight without overcommitting, to see how his mana responded under battle conditions and see if he could change his attacks into something cohesive and more powerful—that was his goal.

The panel confirmed his selection, and with a soft chime, the wall opposite him shifted. From a hidden compartment, a construct emerged, its form humanoid but ethereal. Its body was composed almost entirely of dense lightning mana, swirling with vibrant arcs of violet and pale lavender energy that shimmered and pulsed like a living storm. Beneath the surface, faint glimpses of a metallic skeleton could be seen, its slim, intricate framework acting as the anchor that shaped the construct’s elemental form.

Lassim raised his halberd and moved into a relaxed stance, "Alright, let’s see what happens."

The construct surged forward with startling speed, but not too fast for Lassim to keep track of, its body crackling with mana as it closed the distance in an instant. Lassim didn’t flinch. Instead, he adjusted his posture and delivered a casual [Slash], the arc of his halberd glowing faintly as fused mana surged along its edge.

The strike was precise, almost effortless, and the result was immediate. The small swirling wave of fused mana and lightning sprite fish shot forward. The construct’s arm exploded into fragments of lightning mana, the metallic core beneath it severed cleanly. The detached pieces dissolved into sparks before hitting the ground.

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"Hm." Lassim shifted his stance, sidestepping as the construct retaliated with a dense lightning mana-infused punch. He barely needed to move to avoid it.

Another casual strike—this time a [Thrust]—pierced through the construct’s chest, tearing a hole straight through its elemental body, and slightly damaging to the skeleton core of the construct’s arrays.

The construct faltered, its movements immediately becoming sluggish as its core arrays struggled to compensate for the damage. Lassim finished it with a single, deliberate [Slam], his halberd crashing down with controlled force, and the giant merging of lightning sprite fish fused together and took a giant chomp towards the construct. The construct shattered entirely with its body made of lightning disintegrating into motes of mana, and the skeleton that held the array’s parts were now completely in pieces spread across the training hall’s floor.

Lassim exhaled slowly, lowering his weapon. The entire battle had lasted less than a minute, and he hadn’t even pushed himself. Leveling up even a single level had made a huge difference in power, and the fused mana that had empowered with each strike—carrying his lightning sprite fish—felt almost overkill.

"I need something more," Lassim thought out loud, watching as a repair automaton emerged to collect and reassemble or repair the construct’s skeleton. Damage to the constructs were expected by the sect and unless the damage was too severe, the parts could be recycled to an extent to reduce the loss.

"This isn’t enough. I can hit harder, faster—but that’s still not a style. It’s not what I’m aiming for. Am I going to be forever stuck with these simple and basic attacks that I got from my family’s records? They weren’t even designed for any of my elements at all… They’re just too simple…" He continued, the stress slowly building.

The automaton worked quickly, and in moments, a new construct, possibly using recycled parts of the last one, was brought out as a replacement, ready for another round.

But Lassim didn’t engage it with any further attacks. Instead, he went back to the wall and deactivated the system entirely; returning his halberd to the floating center of his inner heart world.

He left the training hall feeling quite frustrated with the whole lack of progress, but there was still time. He still had a bit more than 11 months until the Elder’s summit.

"Varen mentioned the East Grove when I first got here…," Lassim recalled, his thoughts turning over the senior disciple’s words he’d met on his first day. "He said the mana there is denser because the trees don’t offer as much protection from the storm. But he also warned it could get dangerous if the storm decides to ’rampage,’ whatever that means. I’ve been making steady progress in the Nexus, but it’s always so crowded, and it’s starting to feel... ordinary. Maybe it’s time to try something different. The East Grove might not be as predictable, but if the mana is as intense as Varen said, it could be worth the risk. Plus, maybe a little adversity is exactly what I need for inspiration."

Mari’s voice chimed in, carrying her usual calm and soothing voice, "[The East Grove… Sounds like a good change of flow. Sometimes, going against the river is the only way forward.]"

Zaphy chirped excitedly, her lightning mana presence buzzing in Lassim’s mind. "[Yes! Finally! A storm worthy of my lightning! Hahaha! Let’s dive into it, brother. I’ll bet it’s fun there if that Varen guy’s words are true!]"

Lassim smirked as he walked towards the front desk and passed back the key card that unlocked the rented training hall room. "[Alright then. Let’s give it a shot. But don’t blame me if the storm isn’t all it’s cracked up to be Zaphy]," he said.

He left the training hall behind, stepping out into the ever-present storm of the Tempest’s Cradle. The rain fell steadily, the wind swirling but not yet quite ferocious. It was a bit more intense than the last few days, but still manageable for anyone with a Lightning elemental cultivation.

The journey to the East Grove led him through the heart of the Storm Leaf Tree forest, their luminous canopies glowing faintly above as they diffused some of the storm’s intensity with their naturally developed barrier technique. The path through the electrically charged grass was quiet, save for the somewhat frequent, but distant rumble of thunder.

As Lassim moved deeper into the forest, the air grew heavier with the lightning mana. He wasn’t even fully there yet, but the density was at least twice what was present in the Nexus’ area. It pressed against him like a heavy series of blankets just piling onto him with each step forward.

The Storm Leaf Trees began to thin, their protective branches giving way to open skies. The moment he crossed that invisible threshold into the East Grove, the storm greeted him with its full, unrestrained fury.

Rain lashed against his skin, sharp and unrelenting, each drop cutting like a shard of glass. The wind howled, tugging at his personal disciple robes and forcing him to steady his steps. Lightning flashed constantly, illuminating the grove with violet bursts so frequent it felt as if he’d stepped into perpetual daylight.

"Now this is more like it," Lassim smiled. His natural divine level spirit pressure flared instinctively, creating a barrier against the storm’s elemental assault, but even that, for some odd and unknown reason, wasn’t enough. The mana in the storm was sharper here, more intense. It pierced through his defenses, biting into his body with raw, untamed force.

He pressed forward as the storm seemed to test his resolve as he looked for a place to sit and cultivate in. The wind, rain and lightning roared around him, threatening to throw him off balance every time he lifted a foot to take a step, but Lassim’s focus never wavered. "[No excuses,]" he thought. "[If I want to grow stronger, this is exactly the kind of place I need to be.]"

Eventually, he found a relatively stable spot beneath the twisted roots of a massive storm leaf tree. Its gnarled branches provided some semblance of shelter, though the storm still reached him in relentless waves. Lassim lowered himself to a cross-legged position, summoning and then resting his halberd across his lap. The push and pull of the storm pressed against him, but he welcomed it, closing his eyes and beginning the [Stormbringer] cultivation technique.

The mana in the air surged into him like a flood, its ferocity matching the storm itself. Lassim’s body tensed as he absorbed it, each rotation of the technique demanding more effort than usual. His progenitor marks flared with a voidish purple light that almost seemed through his now drenched martial attire. The fused mana whirlpool within him churned, responding to the influx of energy with eagerness.

The storm was an unrelenting assault. The cutting rain, the howling wind, and the constant barrage of lightning all seemed designed to break his focus. His body bore the brunt of it, his spiritual pressure and natural affinity for the elements of water and lightning usually providing comfort against the rain that was now slicing against his skin. Deep gashes started to open up from the areas with exposed skin, and the wind threatened to unseat him from his seated position.

He gritted his teeth, refusing to falter, trying his best to meditate properly. "This isn’t beyond me," he thought to himself, his determination burning as fiercely as the lightning coursing through the storm. "I’ll adapt. I’ll endure. I’ll have to be ready against much worse than this if an even stronger demon like the Abyssal General comes for me. I can’t be beaten by my own elements!"

As the minutes stretched into hours, Lassim’s body began to adjust. The pain dulled to a persistent thrum, and the storm’s assault became something he could withstand. Thankfully the blood was being washed away every second, but he was still quite injured. His cultivation and [Tidal Rune] and even Leviathan’s cursed body was healthy enough to endure, but he was tempted to activate [Lifestream Aegis]. However, something instinctually stopped him the moment he felt the urge to do so… So, he continued to weather the storm and absorb its mana.

After awhile, he noticed his lightning fish stirring within him, their forms shimmering into existence around him.

One by one, the fish with their cute little tentacle rear ends materialized, darting out into the storm with a kind of joyous abandon on their own. They swam through the rain and lightning as if they’d been waiting for this moment, their glowing forms weaving effortlessly through the chaos. Some swam in wide, sweeping arcs, while others darted between bolts of lightning, their movements playful and precise.

Lassim had his eyes closed, focusing on keeping his cultivation technique active, but did his best to observe this moment, watching them with his spirit sense. A small smile broke through his focus as he watched them play.

The storm continued to rage, but Lassim sank deeper into his cultivation as he was becoming more used to the storm. It wasn’t pushing him as hard for some reason, but the water cut deep into his exposed skin, and he even started to receive shocks from small bolts of lightning directly where he was sitting.

The mana flowed through him in relentless waves, each rotation of the [Stormbringer] technique strengthening his inner heart world at a rate much faster than in the Nexus. Yet, as time passed, something began to change.

A strange sensation tugged at the edges of his mind—a faint pull at first, but growing stronger with each passing moment. It was oddly familiar. The same pull he’d felt most nights when he stared into the storm’s clouds through the window from his bed before falling asleep.

Lassim’s eyes narrowed, his focus turning towards it with full alertness. The pull towards the storm grew more insistent, dragging his awareness away from his surroundings and even his body. The storm’s physical assault numbed and seemingly faded to the background, its sharp edges blunted and disappearing as his mind was drawn elsewhere.

The last thing he saw before his awareness fully shifted was his lightning fish circling protectively around him, their glowing forms brighter than ever as if shielding him from what was about to happen.