The storm-born guardians towered above the bridge like living monuments of raw energy. Their lightning tendrils crackled across the chasm, spitting arcs that could have erased a dozen adventurers in an instant. But I wasn't a dozen adventurers. I was alone, and that made all the difference.
I let the violet energy coil along my arms, pulsing through my veins. Storm Veins activated. Every step I took across the bridge left sparks dancing on the stone, illuminating the shadows like fireflies in a gale.
The first guardian swung its arm, lightning arcing along its length. I stepped into the strike, letting Aether Conduction absorb the energy. It surged into my body and erupted in a flash, striking the creature mid-chest. It staggered, roaring in a sound that rattled the cavern walls.
The second guardian advanced, tendrils whipping like snakes. I dashed with Lightning Step, leaving afterimages in my wake. Each afterimage struck independently, tearing through limbs and forcing it to retreat.
[Experience Gained: 22%]
[System Reward: Evolution Progress +5%]
The battle was a blur of violet light and roaring energy. By the time I landed the final strike, both guardians had collapsed into sparks and smoke. My chest heaved. The cavern was silent once more, save for the faint hum of the key in my pocket.
Threshold cleared.
The system pulsed, faintly congratulatory.
Evolution potential detected. Not yet unlocked. Continue progression.
I let the purple energy fade, surveying the wreckage. The cavern had tested me, pushed me to the edge, and I had walked away unbroken. That was enough for now.
When I returned to the city, the streets felt smaller somehow, constricting. Monsters had been my teachers, dungeons my proving grounds, but the world above demanded a different approach. Information, allies, even influence — all were necessary if I was going to survive and climb higher.
I didn't need followers. I needed tools. People who could open doors, hold maps, provide support while I carved my path. Warm bodies. Not comrades. Not equals.
And that's how the idea came to me: a guild. My guild. Not to follow, not to serve, not to answer to anyone. A place where the weak could exist safely under my terms — and where I could operate without interference.
The first recruits were not convinced. Not easily. That was fine. Conviction came from strength, and strength had a way of speaking louder than words.
I sought them out individually, testing each in combat before any words were exchanged. The first was a man who could wield fire — not ordinary fire, but an evolved flame that burned black as obsidian. His strikes were precise, destructive, yet contained. I tested him, dodging, redirecting, and gauging his limits. When he faltered, I let him see what mastery looked like. He bowed afterward — not out of respect, but understanding.
The second was a girl, a berserker who had evolved beyond mere mortal rage. Her eyes burned with feral intensity, her strength unmatched. She came at me swinging wildly, every blow designed to kill. I let her hit, redirecting the energy to teach rather than punish. When she realized she could match my rhythm, she didn't surrender — she accepted a new direction, one where her fury had focus.
Meanwhile, my purple lightning wraiths — manifestations of my storm energy — hovered around silently. Some had names, some were just extensions of my will, but each could evolve, take form, and fight in my stead. One of them, thin and serpentine, I called "Vyre," acted as scout and assassin. Another, more solid, named "Eldrin," became a shield in battle. They were not alive, not fully, yet they were more loyal than any human could be. Together, they were my one-man army, extensions of my will.
I stood atop a ruined building, watching the city below. Recruiting would not be easy. Each person had to be tested, tempered, and proven. But the guild — my guild — would grow, piece by piece.
And I would remain what I always was: the storm incarnate, purple lightning dancing across my body, the eye of my own carefully controlled hurricane.
This was not about power for its own sake. It was about preparation. For dungeons, for monsters, for the guilds, and for the storms the world had yet to throw at me.
I allowed a faint smirk to curl my lips.
Let them come. Let the world see what a storm can do.