Chapter 5 — The Lightning Burial Ground
The forest howled with an unnatural wind. Each tree was charred black, their branches twisted as though scorched by a thousand storms. The ground was littered with bones—human, beast, and things in between. This was the place whispered of in old tales:
The Lightning Burial Ground.
Ye Tianlan stood before it, his black-and-gold robes torn but his eyes sharper than blades. Since leaving the ruins of the Xu Empire, he had not rested. His grief had become a weapon, his hatred a furnace, and now he sought power—no matter the cost.
A storm raged above the Burial Ground, arcs of lightning falling like heavenly spears. The land itself seemed alive, rejecting all intruders. Even seasoned cultivators avoided this place, for it was said to contain the corpses of ancient lightning beasts and the lingering will of heaven's wrath.
Perfect for him.
As he stepped inside, arcs of electricity lashed at his body, tearing flesh from bone. Yet instead of retreating, he gritted his teeth and pressed forward. His veins glowed with golden light, his dragon mark burning, drinking in the storm like a starving beast.
"Pain?" Ye Tianlan muttered through bloodied lips, his voice steady. "Pain is nothing. The real pain… is watching your family die."
The storm howled louder. Bolts struck his body again and again until the ground beneath him cracked. And then—amid the carnage—a low growl echoed.
From the depths of the Burial Ground, a Lightning Direwolf emerged, its body wreathed in thunder, eyes glowing with primal hatred. It was a beast born of storms, its cultivation equal to the peak of the Spirit Realm.
Any ordinary cultivator would flee.
Ye Tianlan's lips curved into a cold smile.
"Good. You'll be my stepping stone."
The Direwolf lunged, fangs like blades of lightning. Ye Tianlan met it head-on, lightning clashing against lightning, his fist tearing through the storm. The impact split the forest open, charred trees collapsing in waves.
The battle raged. Every strike shredded his flesh, but his body healed faster as the storm poured into him. Finally, with one final roar, he drove his hand through the Direwolf's skull, ripping out its Lightning Core—a crystal pulsing with heavenly thunder.
He held it high, lightning dancing across his blood-soaked arm. His aura surged, exploding outward.
The First Barrier of Spirit Cultivation shattered within him.
Ye Tianlan had broken through.
But he was not alone.
From the shadows, voices hissed. Three cultivators stepped out—two men and a woman, their robes marked with the crest of the Fiend Realm. Their eyes burned with greed as they stared at the core in his hand.
"Hand over the Lightning Core," the woman sneered, her beauty marred by the malice in her tone. "A half-dead prince like you doesn't deserve it. Maybe I'll let you live if you kneel and beg."
Ye Tianlan's gaze turned to her, then to the others. His expression was calm, but his eyes were merciless.
"You… want me to kneel?"
The three laughed, stepping closer. But the storm itself seemed to shiver as Ye Tianlan's killing intent spread. He crushed the core into his chest, absorbing its power directly. Lightning erupted around him in a storm that blotted out the sky.
When the storm cleared, the three Fiend cultivators were nothing but ashes.
Ye Tianlan stood alone, his aura vastly stronger, his golden dragon mark blazing with divine wrath.
He looked toward the heavens, his voice steady, resolute:
"Seven Realms… remember this day. Anyone who dares reach for my life will find only death. Human or beasts, god or devil—equity lies in blood."
The storm roared in answer.
And the Burial Ground, once a graveyard of fallen, had birthed its first Overlord.