Shao Xian stood atop the highest monolith, gazing down at the group of warriors who had sworn their allegiance to him. The Stormbreakers had been reborn, reforged through lightning and blood. But he knew that power alone was not enough.
"Your training has only begun," he declared, his voice like rolling thunder. "But strength without wisdom is nothing more than brute force. You will not merely be warriors—you will be conquerors."
The disciples knelt, their gazes burning with devotion. Zhao Feng, standing at the front, clenched his fists. "My lord, what is our next step?"
Shao Xian's golden eyes flickered. "War is coming. And before we march, you must learn the ways of true battle."
With a flick of his sleeve, the monoliths around them trembled. The ancient engravings that covered their surfaces began to glow, pulsing with a forgotten power.
Zhao Feng's breath caught. "This…"
Shao Xian smirked. "This is the battlefield where countless warriors of the past fell. And now, their spirits will become your instructors."
As soon as he spoke, the air twisted. Shadows rose from the ground—figures clad in ancient armor, their eyes burning with ghostly flames. The spectral warriors stood silently, their translucent weapons gleaming under the storm-lit sky.
A disciple gasped. "These are… the spirits of the fallen?"
Shao Xian nodded. "Defeat them, and you will prove yourselves worthy of the path you have chosen."
Before anyone could react, the spirits attacked.
The first disciple barely had time to raise his weapon before a spectral blade slashed across his chest. Though the wound did not bleed, the impact sent him sprawling backward, gasping in pain.
"Move!" Shao Xian roared.
Zhao Feng was the first to recover. He sidestepped an incoming strike, countering with a bolt of lightning. The spirit dissipated for a moment, but then reformed, stronger than before.
"They cannot be killed by brute force alone," Shao Xian said, watching as the others struggled. "You must break their essence, not their bodies."
Understanding dawned in Zhao Feng's eyes. He adjusted his stance, channeling his Qi into his blade. Instead of attacking with force, he struck at the energy core within the spirit's chest.
The moment his blade connected, the spirit let out an unearthly wail before vanishing into wisps of light.
Seeing his success, the others adjusted their strategies. One by one, the spirits were banished.
Hours passed. The disciples fought tirelessly, their bodies pushed beyond their limits. But under Shao Xian's watchful gaze, they adapted. They evolved.
By the time the last spirit faded, the Stormbreakers were barely standing. Their robes were tattered, their breath ragged. But their auras were stronger than before.
Shao Xian nodded in approval. "You have proven yourselves. But remember—this was merely a test. The real battle is yet to come."
He turned, his gaze distant. Far beyond the horizon, a storm was brewing—not of nature, but of war.
The time for conquest had arrived.