Spirit's Awakening: The Path of Lightning and Water-Chapter 399: The Martial Competition Begins

Lassim followed behind Sect Master Volten, who led him through the open archways of his residence’s inner halls within the Sect’s central building before arriving at a private dining chamber. The walls were marked with intricate inscriptions, faint traces of lightning energy woven into their design, but the space itself was simple—functional yet dignified, fitting for the man who resided here.

A long table had already been set, the aroma of freshly prepared dishes rising from polished plates. Fire-roasted beast meat that smelled delicious, some mana-rich vegetables that Lassim could see mana oozing out of with his spirit sense, and a variety of fruits that were a variety of colors and types he’d never seen before. Each part of the meal seemed designed not only for culinary taste but to enhance a Spirit Warrior’s inner heart world.

Volten took his seat at the head of the table and gestured for Lassim to sit near him. "Go ahead. You must be hungry after watching all that competition for the last few days."

Lassim sat, picking up a fork and knife without hesitation. "Not too hungry, but I’ll never turn down a good meal."

Volten let out a low chuckle as he picked up his own utensils. "I’d be worried if you weren’t eating properly. You might have reached a high enough level of cultivation now to go months without eating, but you’re still a growing young boy in my eyes. The body’s health is the most important as it sets the foundation for everything else."

Lassim barely reacted outwardly with a small nod to the comment, merely digging into his meal at an even pace.

The first few minutes passed in comfortable silence, both of them eating. Once Volten had set his cup down from a drink mid-bite, he finally leaned back slightly, shifting his gaze to Lassim. "So," he began, "tell me your thoughts on the Martial Competition."

Lassim glanced up, setting down his utensils. "I think it’ll be interesting."

Volten raised a brow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "That’s all?"

Lassim met his gaze evenly. "I haven’t seen all the competitors yet. It’s hard to say much without knowing what level of skill they’ll be bringing to the stage."

Volten huffed a quiet laugh and shook his head. He took another sip from his cup before continuing. "Fine, I’ll change it up. What about your own training? I believe you’ve at least figured out your fighting style yet, yes?"

Lassim paused for just a fraction of a second, considering how to phrase his response without giving too much away. "I have definitely found my own path forward."

Although that was all he said, as the words left his mouth, subconsciously a shift in the air became noticeable around Lassim. His spiritual pressure stirred by itself—his presence subtly expanded, like the moment before a storm fully formed on the horizon. Yet, it was bizarre to a Lightning Spirit Warrior at Volten’s level. The storm on the horizon felt both far away but also directly boring into his presence, as if distance and space were relative and all encompassing.

Volten’s fingers drummed against the table as he noted the change, his gaze flickering with intrigue. It wasn’t overpowering or aggressive, but it was there, impossible to ignore despite being faint.

Lassim didn’t seem to realize it at first, but the moment the weight of it settled into the space, he reined it back in. The air stilled, the flicker of storm-infused presence vanishing as if it had never been there. However, as he stared at Volten, a few red sparks from his [Law of Storm] enhanced lightning reacted with the air around his eyes as the storms swirled within them.

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Volten let out a smile, "Well, thankfully you’re still young and your intensity betrays yourself."

Lassim didn’t argue. He simply picked up his cup and took a slow sip of the herbal drink that had a minty flavor, unbothered by the observation.

Volten shook his head. "Cheeky brat."

Lassim smirked faintly behind the rim of the cup but said nothing.

There was a brief pause, the atmosphere settling again, before Volten finally leaned back slightly in his chair. "The tournament should be interesting, then. Make me proud and then we can see how even more freakish you are after you return from Famthar’s Trial."

Lassim simply nodded, the unspoken agreement hanging between them.

The conversation had ended, to which the Sect Master stood up from his seat and walked off into a hallway, muttering out of earshot from Lassim, "Heavens…. A disciple of mine will really have had access to two separate God’s Trials… all before he’s even 18 years old… What are you bastards up there playing to do with this child? Is our situation truly that dire?"

The night passed without disturbance.

After Volten had departed last night, one of the building’s maids pointed Lassim in the direction of the guest quarters within the Sect Master’s residence. They were typically reserved for honored guests, high-ranking visitors, and, now, Lassim. As Volten’s personal disciple, he was free to use any of them rather than staying in the standard disciple residences spread throughout the sect.

The many rooms he could choose from were all quiet, spacious, and infused with lingering traces of lightning mana, though Lassim felt no need for cultivation tonight. He had simply rested, something he rarely allowed himself to do during the intense training from the last year that he’d spent traveling and going to the Tempest’s Cradle.

When he opened his eyes, the sky was still dark.

He rose, adjusting his robes as he moved through the silent corridors of the Sect Master’s central building. The servants were already awake, moving efficiently to prepare for the day’s affairs, though none of them acknowledged him beyond a respectful nod.

By the time he stepped outside, the cool predawn air greeted him, yet this was the headquarters of the Lightning Sect. Even with the sun, it’d be covered in the massive perpetual storm that covered it, lightning striking the tall lightning rods atop the buildings. The air was moist, humid and oddly quite still this morning.

Waiting near the front entrance of the residence, Volten already stood with his arms crossed, his expression unreadable as he gazed toward the coliseum. It seemed his spirit sense had been spread quite far as he was observing something in particular. He did not need to turn to know Lassim had arrived.

"Good," he said simply. "Let’s go."

Without another word, the two of them took to the air, moving swiftly over the sect’s various grounds, training fields, streets and buildings toward the coliseum where the martial competition was set to begin.

By the time they arrived, the coliseum was already stirring to life. Tournament officials and sect elders were gathered in their respective seating areas, and most of the sect’s disciples streamed into the stands, taking their places to watch the opening match.

Lassim and Volten landed on the highest platform, where the top elders from the previous days were positioned to observe the matches. They all greeting Lassim and the Sect Master with smiles as they arrived.

The arena below had been left in the single arena formation from yesterday, and Lassim noticed that there was now an incredibly strong but clear and see-throughable array formation that was encompassing the arena.

The complexity of the runes and the sheer amount of lightning mana flowing up from the ground to power it’s control nodes was quite surprising to Lassim. It seemed like it might even be able to withstand a casual attack or two from the Sect Master if necessary; a much bigger upgrade than the previous days. They were really going all out to protect the audience from stray attacks or dispersed lightning.

A towering figure stood at the center of the battlefield, arms crossed over his chest, his presence impossible to ignore, catching Lassim’s attention.

A burly elder, clad in a custom sleeveless version of the violet elder’s robes, his muscular arms exposed, marked with faint scars from countless battles. His long, grizzled beard added to his formidable presence, and even from where Lassim stood, he could sense the controlled reigning in of his bloodlust that was radiating from the man.

The elder turned toward the crowd, his deep, thunderous voice cutting through the coliseum.

"Disciples of the Lightning Sect!" The sheer force behind his words was enough to silence everyone.

"I am Elder Baruun, and I will be overseeing the martial competition’s matches as the official announcer and referee!" He then let his Spirit Mystic stage, level 7 cultivation flare out and oppress the audience for a few seconds. This showcased to all that he was one of the most powerful in the entire sect, after Sect Master Volten of course.

Lassim watched the man with interest. He had never personally interacted with Elder Baruun before, but he seemed like someone you really wouldn’t want to face in battle.

Baruun continued, his voice booming, "We open this morning’s competition with an unusual match—one that has already drawn attention across the sect as it’s rare for us to even have enough disciples for the Spirit Growth stage to face each other. Today, we have two Spirit Growth stage disciples, both personally chosen as direct disciples by elders of our sect!"

The murmurs returned, growing louder as many in the crowd reacted to the significance. Spirit Growth disciples being selected as Personal Disciples was quite rare because it was hard for such young cultivators to really showcase themselves and stand out from the rest of the caravans of new disciples that arrived every month. Continue your journey with novelbuddy

Baruun gave a snort filled with lightning that released a booming thunder, and the noise died down again.

"Step forward, competitors!"

Two figures strode onto the arena floor, each stepping into their designated space opposite of each other.

Baruun gestured first toward the tall, well-dressed disciple on the left.

"A child of the Feng Clan of our Southern Continent—Yoren Feng, Spirit Growth Stage Level 6!"

The audience murmured, some disciples whispering amongst themselves at the familiar name. The Feng Clan was well known, not for producing particularly skilled cultivators, but for its vast wealth and political reach. Had it not been for the Lightning Sect’s hegemony and overall ruling in this continent—compared to how the Veridian continent was run with its kingdoms—the Feng clan had maneuvered and positioned themselves high up the various Noble ladders. They had carefully married themselves and given children away so that they had family relations to nearly every kingdom, small or large, and city’s leaders of any remotely high influence level across the continent.

Yoren barely acknowledged the murmurs, instead flicking his wrist, adjusting the richly embroidered sleeve of his Personal Disciple robe as if he had just stepped onto a noble banquet rather than a battlefield. It had additional gold embellishments that were far beyond the standard that could be seen on his opponent’s or even Lassim’s martial attire. Yoren’s expression was completely relaxed, almost lazy, as if this match wasn’t worth his full attention.

Baruun’s gaze turned toward the second competitor.

"Facing him—Han Shiyan, Spirit Growth Stage Level 4!"

Unlike Yoren, Shiyan’s appearance was deceptively plain. He wore the simple version of the Personal Disciple sect robes, and his expression remained neutral, composed.

Lassim commented from his high-up position, "There’s something off about that Yoren kid. He reminds me of some of the shitty noble kids I’ve encountered in the past. It’s quite obvious how he was picked as a Personal Disciple. However, Han Shiyan doesn’t seem all that special. I wonder what his master saw in him."

The Sect Master nodded and his orange lightning flared from his eyes as he released a bit of frustration. It seemed there was a bit of "talking" that needed to be done with whomever had chosen Yoren Feng as his disciple. Just to make sure there was no turning the privileged position into a commodity. If there was any foul play, he planned to outright kill the Elder. He had zero tolerance for corruption after the experience with the Sun Sect’s long-term infiltration they’d done that led to so many deaths during the final assault.

There was no further elaboration.

Many in the crowd had been wondering about this exact question—why had this seemingly ordinary Spirit Growth disciple been chosen as a Personal Disciple? Unlike Yoren Feng, whose family background explained his acceptance, Shiyan had seemingly come from nowhere.

Volten remained silent, but Lassim caught the way his gaze sharpened slightly. He was watching closely.

Baruun raised his arm.

"Both competitors, are you ready? Good. Then—begin!"