Inside the sealed cultivation chamber deep within the sanctum core of the Heavenly Soul Palace, silence reigned—a silence not born from stillness but from reverence. The air around Su Mengtian shimmered faintly, infused with residual spiritual energy released by the four divine awakenings he had just endured. He sat in the lotus posture, hovering slightly above the polished obsidian floor, his skin faintly glowing with traces of celestial resonance.
His breathing was even. Controlled. And the mighty tide within his spiritual sea had calmed.
"I've stabilized the first four," Su Mengtian murmured to himself, his voice a low echo in the chamber. "Now… it's time."
A soft surge of energy rippled through the space as his eyes opened—deep pools of serenity and conviction. Around him, the air hummed gently as he gathered the remaining spiritual essence in his surroundings, pulling it inward through his meridians. Strands of pure essence flowed into him, refining his body, restoring what little fatigue had settled after the awakening trials.
When he exhaled, even that breath crackled faintly with power.
Then, he stood.
His gaze turned toward the fifth crystallized spiritual sphere—the first among the three belonging to the bloodline of the Thunder Guardian Dragon. It pulsed with latent energy, not in wildness, but in structured rhythm—like the slow beat of a storm's heart.
"I can feel it," Su Mengtian whispered. "A dragon sleeps within."
Without hesitation, he extended his hand. The moment his palm touched the sphere's surface, a surge of electricity danced across his skin. Not painful—an invitation. Before he could even register the movement, the world around him shifted.
He was gone from the chamber.
A new realm unfolded.
The skies above him were heavy—not with darkness, but with solemn authority. There were no clouds, no sun. Only an infinite dome of stormlight pressing against the world.
The air trembled.
Then it split.
From the heavens came a roar—not of rage, but of proclamation. The split widened, and from the celestial divide emerged the Crowned Thunder Dragon.
Su Mengtian's eyes widened.
Its golden eyes bore into his soul, reflecting not just light, but lineage. Its body shimmered with sovereign grace—scales forged from sky-metal, every edge laced with living lightning. Twin horns spiraled from its forehead, arcs of sapphire current dancing across them. Its wings were vast stormfronts, crackling like celestial canopies.
But it did not move to strike. It did not roar again.
It raised a single claw.
A whisper of wind. A hum that transcended pitch.
And then—a dome.
Aegis.
From the dragon's will, a massive barrier unfolded. Translucent. Divine. A shell of layered scales formed from concentrated thunder essence, each etched with sacred runes older than any civilization. They shimmered in hues of pale gold, sky blue, and violet.
"I stand to protect," the dragon said, its voice not vocal but spiritual, echoing across the bones of the dimension.
As the aegis expanded, the earth beneath Su Mengtian resonated. The ley-lines themselves shifted in alignment, grounding the celestial will in this realm.
And then came the enemy.
Shadowspawn poured in from the void edges—beasts formed of malice, ether, and curses. They screamed, their forms shifting between clawed aberrations and pulsing miasma. Their attacks—fireballs, soul-lances, necrotic chains—rained down.
Su Mengtian flinched instinctively.
But not one blow reached him.
Each strike collided against the barrier and was dissolved. The kinetic force absorbed. The flames consumed. The soul energy redirected.
And then the aegis retaliated.
From the runes, lightning snapped back—clean, just, divine. It struck the attackers with pinpoint wrath, turning the shadows into dust. Not even ashes remained.
Su Mengtian turned slowly, looking up toward the dragon that stood unmoved in the center of the storm.
He saw it now—this was no defense.
This was sanctuary.
A construct of law. A declaration of purpose.
"As long as this will stands," the dragon intoned, "no malice shall pass."
The dome shimmered again, drawing lightning from the skies above. Bolts descended—not in chaos, but ceremony. They were drawn to the runes, absorbed into the aegis. The shield glowed brighter.
Stronger.
Su Mengtian stepped forward, reaching out to touch the wall of the dome. It was cool to the touch—yet beneath that stillness, he felt the weight of storms. Of tempests waiting for purpose.
Then came a whisper.
Not in human tongue.
But Su Mengtian understood.
It was draconic—a language older than history, known only to sovereign beasts of legend. But to him, it was not foreign.
It was carved into his blood.
"Aegis of the Stormbound Warden."
The name reverberated through his body.
Su Mengtian shivered. Not in fear, but in recognition.
He saw visions.
—A battlefield under siege, his comrades broken, bleeding.
—Him, standing between them and doom, wings of lightning spreading from his back.
—The dome manifesting, sheltering all, while divine storm raged against those who dared approach.
He would not just fight.
He would protect.
He closed his eyes and embraced the storm.
His spiritual sea trembled again as the fifth divine ability descended into him—fusing, rooting itself, anchoring to his core.
Thunder rippled through his veins.
When he opened his eyes again, the dome began to dissipate.
The dragon slowly faded, its eyes locking onto Su Mengtian one last time.
"Protect not with pride," it whispered, "but with purpose."
Then the world collapsed.
Back in the cultivation chamber, Su Mengtian stirred.
His body pulsed faintly with residual energy. Around him, a faint echo of lightning lingered in the air. The room dimmed for just a moment as stormlight twisted through the runes on the walls—responding to his newly awakened aura.
He opened his palm.
A sigil appeared—a coiled dragon, surrounded by shields etched in runes.
His first divine ability of the Thunder Guardian Dragon bloodline had awakened.
The Aegis of the Stormbound Warden.
And Su Mengtian smiled.
For the first time since beginning this path, he truly understood:
The divine didn't simply give power.
It entrusted purpose.
After few hours, Su Mengtian's breathing steadied as the fifth crystallized spiritual sphere dissolved into his soul. Unlike the earlier divine abilities that roared with primordial power or cloaked themselves in cosmic shadows, this one—the Aegis of the Stormbound Warden—was calm. Gentle. Protective.
But that gentleness did not mean passivity.
As the last tendrils of its divine aura integrated into Su Mengtian's spiritual sea, he felt a startling sensation—not just a strengthening of his inner balance, but a conscious force at work. The Aegis ability had not simply become part of him; it was actively shaping his inner world.
Crackling lightning etched glowing runes across his spiritual sea, forming a translucent dome around his heart—not metaphorically, but literally within his soul's domain. The divine aegis wasn't dormant. It was awake. It wanted to guard him, grow with him. And, almost like it knew, it began drawing ambient spiritual energy toward itself, accelerating the healing and stabilization of Su Mengtian's inner sea.
Mengtian opened his eyes slightly within his meditative space, golden lightning dancing across his pupils.
"...So you're urging me forward," he murmured. "You're not just a shield. You're a guide."
The dome around his heart pulsed once in acknowledgment, and the currents within his spiritual sea responded by clearing turbulence, smoothing energy flows, and stitching together what remained frayed from the weight of the four void ape divine awakenings.
"Very well. If even you demand it... then I'll answer."
With renewed clarity and stabilized breath, Su Mengtian turned to the sixth crystallized spiritual sphere—the next embodiment of the Thunder Guardian Dragon's divine legacy.
It hovered slightly off the ground, arcing with faint pulses of sapphire lightning. And this one felt alive in a different way. It wasn't protective like the fifth. It didn't thrum like a shield.
It hunted.
He reached out.
The world vanished.
The sky was midday, and yet it dimmed.
Not from clouds.
From power.
The Crowned Thunder Dragon towered at the edge of a jagged mountain pass. Su Mengtian saw him clearly this time—not just as a formless divine concept, but a sovereign of retribution given flesh. Those golden eyes bore into dimensions unseen, locking onto a figure that shimmered with distorting void energies. The figure had no identity—only intent. An assassin lord from beyond, cloaked in every trick the cosmos allowed.
And yet...
He was seen.
The Thunder Dragon raised one massive claw, lined with divine talons that hummed with law. Slowly, almost reverently, he drew a symbol into the air. It glowed with ascending strokes and concentric loops—a sigil so ancient even the stars might forget how to read it.
The air shrieked.
The sigil glowed brighter, hovering above the unseen assassin. Then, with a silent snap, it activated.
KRRAAAAASH!!
A divine bolt of lightning—no, a column of celestial annihilation—screamed down from the heavens.
Wider than any gate.
Faster than thought.
Its light was too pure, too sharp. It didn't illuminate—it peeled away. Layers of concealment shattered, realms of folded space tore like paper, and the void-sheathed assassin was laid bare to the wrath of the heavens.
Then consumed.
The bolt pierced not just through flesh, but through the foundation of existence. Bones, organs, even the soul threads of the enemy collapsed under the divine strike. There was no cry—only an echo that died before it could begin.
Su Mengtian's soul-form watched from the sidelines, awestruck. The crater left behind glowed white-hot, seared with arcane thunder-glyphs. But within it, there was nothing.
Not ashes.
Not bones.
Not even energy residue.
Only the silence of a final judgment rendered.
The Crowned Thunder Dragon lowered his claw.
"Falsehood fades. Heaven's judgment does not."
His words boomed through the very laws of nature. The winds refused to move. The skies remained torn. Time itself held its breath around the impact zone.
Su Mengtian stepped closer, wary.
There was a scent—not smoke, but truth. A scent that made lies retreat. His chest throbbed with reverence.
A voice, deep and dragonic, echoed in his bones—not spoken aloud, but awakened from within:
"Heaven's Judgement Pulse."
The sixth divine ability had declared its name.
Su Mengtian fell to one knee as the ability embedded itself into his spiritual sea. The sixth sphere cracked and dissolved into threads of radiant azure light, entering his soul like veins of lightning.
His chest burned with thunder law. Not chaotic—but judicial. Lightning with purpose. With aim.
He clenched his fists.
"...That's two. And that one… was terrifying."
Within his spiritual sea, the sigil now hovered—ready, patient. And unlike other attacks, it didn't hum with aggression.
It waited for lies.
He took a deep breath.
The Aegis dome pulsed around his heart again, now fortified by the sixth divine ability's integration. Thunderclouds of divine insight swirled above his spiritual sea, but they brought clarity—not confusion.
Su Mengtian opened his eyes briefly and muttered, "One more… before the Thunder Dragon's path is complete."
Then, he turned to the seventh crystallized spiritual sphere.
And stepped forward.
Within the silence of the Heavenly Soul Palace's core sanctum, Su Mengtian sat unmoving. His body, radiant with spiritual resonance, had just absorbed the sixth crystallized spiritual sphere. The embers of thunder still danced faintly across his skin, the divine judgment of Heaven's Pulse gently diffusing through his meridians.
But he could feel it—the call of the seventh.
It pulsed like a distant drumbeat in the ocean of his Spiritual Sea, a rhythm not of sound, but of storm.
"So, the final one of the Thunder Guardian Dragon bloodline..." Su Mengtian muttered, the words barely leaving his lips.
As if in response, the seventh crystallized spiritual sphere stirred.
He reached out, and the moment his hand made contact, the sanctum around him vanished. A tempestuous world engulfed his senses, and he found himself once more in the presence of divine memory.
War.
It had reached the edge of collapse.
The skies were torn. Mountains lay broken, entire rivers boiled away into steam. At the center of it all stood the Crowned Thunder Dragon, breath labored, wings frayed and trailing sparks.
Blood streaked his celestial armor, rivers of golden ichor running down his claws. A clawed hand dug into the soil as demonic beasts surged toward him—beasts cloaked in void auras and twisted with chaotic madness.
Su Mengtian felt it—the weight of exhaustion etched into every line of the Crowned Thunder Dragon's frame.
But then, something changed.
The dragon raised his eyes skyward.
Not in fear. Not in defeat.
In defiance.
And the skies... answered.
A pulse, deep as eternity, cracked through the heavens. Thunder that did not scream—but declared. Lightning that did not fall—but rose.
Bands of pure energy, shaped from sapphire storms and divine will, began to spiral around the dragon's body.
His aura blazed.
Su Mengtian shielded his eyes. A second later, he lowered his hand—and what he saw left him breathless.
The dragon had changed.
No—evolved.
Gone was the war-torn armor and weary flesh. In its place stood a titan of divine tempest. Thundersteel plates lined his now-humanoid draconic form, layered with arcs of seething cloudlight. His wings were grander, pulsing with raw lightning that beat not just air, but reality itself.
The land trembled beneath his step. Every motion distorted space.
"Draconic Tempest Resurgence..." Su Mengtian whispered.
The name had come to him—etched into his blood as if it had always been there.
The battlefield exploded.
Demonic generals charged.
And they were obliterated.
The Crowned Thunder Dragon moved with speed that defied perception. One moment grounded—next, in the air—then appearing in a crater that hadn't existed moments before, his claw still glowing from the strike that annihilated a creature of chaos.
Each strike left sonic booms in its wake. Each motion birthed trails of divine lightning. Storm clouds above responded to his will, casting bolts with every breath he exhaled.
But more than the destruction, it was the transformation itself that struck Su Mengtian.
With each attack, with each pulse of power, the aura around the dragon grew denser. It coiled tighter, forming what could only be described as a storm vortex of divinity. It didn't just amplify his power—it protected him, fueled him.
His injuries regenerated in moments. His stamina surged. His strikes grew heavier.
This was not a recovery technique.
It was a divine retaliation. A thunder-forged defiance against death.
And it never ceased.
Even when outnumbered, the Crowned Thunder Dragon surged onward. No hesitation. No retreat.
A warlord made of void essence descended from the skies. Tall, wreathed in chaos, wielding a blade etched with soul-consuming glyphs. He struck—only for the draconic figure to appear mid-air and answer with a single punch.
No clash.
No resistance.
Only obliteration.
The void warlord ceased to exist.
Su Mengtian's breath caught. Not just because of the overwhelming force. But because he felt it, deep in the marrow of his soul:
This form wasn't just a technique—it was a communion.
When Draconic Tempest Resurgence activated, it merged the user with the core essence of the Thunder Guardian Dragon bloodline.
He could almost hear the ancient truth whispered through the roaring storm:
*When divine wrath and will to survive become one—the sky itself becomes your blade.*
And Su Mengtian understood something else.
This ability wasn't meant to be used lightly.
It was meant for the moments when defeat loomed so closely that the universe turned its eyes away.
It was for battles that shook realms, for wars where nations fell and heavens cracked.
It was... salvation through absolute violence.
His body trembled.
But not in fear.
In exhilaration.
The divine memory around him dissolved. The battlefield faded into light, storm, and silence.
And as Su Mengtian opened his eyes back in the sanctum, the storm still whispered within him.
He felt stronger.
Different.
The divine armor had not followed him out—but the knowledge had. The connection had. And deep within his Spiritual Sea, a vortex of storm energy slowly rotated, infused with his blood and will.
Draconic Tempest Resurgence.
A divine ace. A rebirth through wrath.
Su Mengtian exhaled, steam and lightning mist coiling from his lips.
"Three more remain," he murmured.
But for now—he let the storm within him settle.
The seventh crystallized spiritual sphere had answered.
And it had left behind power that echoed like thunder in every breath he drew.