Arden followed the treasury masters down seemingly endless corridors of stone.
Each checkpoint was more elaborate than the last.
Magical wards. Armed guards. Locks that required three separate keys turned simultaneously.
They're not taking chances with the royal collection.
Finally, they reached the vault doors—massive slabs of reinforced steel covered in glowing runes.
The head treasury master placed his hand on a specific pattern, channeling mana into the door.
It opened with a deep, resonant sound.
And Arden's breath caught.
The vault was enormous.
Rows upon rows of shelves, each one holding items of incredible value.
Ancient texts bound in leather that seemed to pulse with power.
Weapons that gleamed despite centuries of age.
Armor sets that looked like they belonged to legends.
Vials containing liquids that glowed with inner light.
And artifacts. So many artifacts.
Some hummed with barely-contained energy.
Others sat silent but somehow felt dangerous just to look at.
This is the accumulated wealth of generations of kings.
Resources most warriors would kill entire armies to even see.
"Take your time, Lord Arden," the head treasury master said.
"His Majesty granted you access to choose one item. Choose wisely."
Arden nodded, beginning his examination.
He spent nearly an hour reviewing the options.
Several elixirs caught his attention—rare concoctions that could potentially force a breakthrough to Fifth Stage.
But the risks were significant.
Forcing advancement could damage his foundation permanently.
Not worth it. I'd rather break through naturally.
Artifacts next.
Some were incredibly powerful, but most required Fifth Stage cultivation to use properly.
A few he could use now, but they felt... wrong.
Like they wouldn't suit his fighting style.
Weapons were impressive—masterwork blades, enchanted spears, bows that could shoot for miles.
But he already had good equipment.
Then he found the cultivation technique section.
"Principles of Transcendent Circulation - Advanced Mana Pathways for Fifth Stage Preparation"
Perfect.
Exactly what he needed.
Not flashy, not immediate power, but the knowledge to break through to Fifth Stage safely and with maximum benefit.
He was reaching for it when something else caught his attention.
A pull.
Not physical, but something deeper. Primal.
What...?
Arden turned, scanning the vault.
The sensation was faint but insistent, like a thread tugging at his very soul.
He followed it to a section he'd passed earlier—a collection of sealed containers and strange artifacts.
The treasury masters had mentioned these were "historical curiosities of unknown origin."
And there, sitting on a dusty shelf behind several other items, was an orb.
But not like the others in the vault.
This one was roughly the size of a child's fist.
Its surface seemed to shift between colors—gold, white, silver, hints of storm-gray and lightning-blue.
It looked almost organic, like polished stone but with an inner luminescence that pulsed faintly.
Occasionally, what looked like miniature storms would flicker across its surface.
Tiny lightning bolts and swirling winds visible for just a moment before fading.
An integration core.
Why is this here? Sitting on a shelf like a decoration?
"What is this?" Arden asked, pointing to the orb.
The head treasury master squinted at it, adjusting his spectacles.
"Ah. That one."
"It's been here for... oh, perhaps thirty years? A gift from the Eastern Kingdom of Auralis during the last diplomatic exchange."
He frowned slightly.
"Some kind of sealed artifact. The documentation mentioned it contained a corrupted guardian spirit—a divine beast, specifically—but it's been dormant for so long that most assumed it was inert."
"Decorative, essentially."
"A corrupted divine beast?"
"Yes. Something about a dancing lion that went mad and had to be sealed by a coalition of powerful cultivators."
The treasury master consulted his notes.
"Your father was involved, actually, along with King Roland, the Eastern King Kintaro, and his Sword Saint Takeru Miyamoto."
"The Eastern Kingdom sent it here for safekeeping. They feared the corruption might spread if kept in their own vaults."
Arden approached carefully.
The pull growing stronger with each step.
Thirty years. Father sealed this.
What exactly is calling to me?
He reached out, fingers hovering just above the surface.
"My lord, I must advise caution—"
Arden's fingers touched the orb.
The world didn't just change—it exploded.
Arden felt his consciousness ripped away from his body.
Pulled into the core with such force that he couldn't even gasp.
Reality inverted, twisted, and reassembled itself around him.
When the maelstrom of sensation finally settled, he found himself standing on... clouds?
Not metaphorical clouds.
Actual clouds, solid beneath his feet but swirling with ethereal mist.
The texture was strange—firm enough to support his weight but with a slight give, like walking on perfectly cushioned ground.
The sky above was breathtaking and terrifying in equal measure.
A swirling maelstrom of colors—gold, silver, storm-gray, lightning-blue—all churning together like a living aurora.
Lightning flickered constantly in the distance.
Accompanied by the rumble of thunder that somehow sounded like music.
Wind howled around him, but it didn't push or pull.
It just was, a constant presence that felt almost alive.
And directly in front of him, perhaps fifty feet away, sat a throne.
It was massive.
Constructed entirely from clouds that had somehow solidified into an ornate seat.
Lightning arced through it periodically, creating patterns that looked deliberately artistic.
Storm winds swirled around it, forming something like a cape or backdrop.
The whole construction radiated power—raw, elemental, barely contained.
And on that throne, lounging like he owned the entire realm (which, technically, he probably did), sat a figure.
A man—but not quite.
He was TALL.
Even seated, Arden could tell he was massive.
When he eventually stood, Arden would revise his estimate to at least seven feet, possibly taller.
Lean and powerfully built, with a physique that suggested both incredible strength and impossible grace.
Like a predator designed for both power and speed.
His skin had a faint golden undertone that seemed to glow slightly in the storm-light.
As if lightning ran just beneath the surface.
Intricate tattoos covered his bare arms, chest, and neck in patterns that moved.
Not just seemed to move—actually moved.
Lions prowled across his biceps, their movements fluid and lifelike.
Storm clouds swirled over his shoulders, darkening and lightening with the ambient thunder.
Lightning bolts crackled down his forearms in branching patterns that resembled both veins and fractal art.
Dancing figures spun across his chest, their movements perfectly choreographed with the thunder rumbling overhead.
His hair was long and wild.
Jet black with streaks of silver, sticking out in multiple directions with actual feathers woven throughout—or perhaps growing naturally.
The feathers were large, dramatic, some as long as a foot.
Creating a mane-like effect that made him look even more imposing.
More feathers seemed to emerge from his shoulders and along his forearms.
Creating wing-like silhouettes when he moved.
Some of the feathers sparked with tiny lightning bolts, electricity dancing along their edges.
His eyes were the most striking feature.
Large, ringed with gold and storm-gray in intricate patterns, with slit pupils like a great cat or predatory bird.
They glowed with inner light.
Arden got the distinct impression they could see through flesh, bone, and soul with equal ease.
Beneath those eyes were feather-like markings that looked painted but were clearly natural.
Creating tribal patterns that made him look both regal and wild.
He wore extensive jewelry.
Gold bangles on his wrists and upper arms that sparked with electricity.
An elaborate necklace with a ruby centerpiece that pulsed like a heartbeat.
Rings on several fingers that seemed to channel miniature storms.
His clothing was minimal.
A short black garment that left his midriff bare, showing more of those living tattoos and a physique that suggested centuries of combat.
Loose pants that stopped at his ankles.
No shoes.
His toenails were long, almost claw-like, gleaming like polished metal.
The figure was currently spinning a miniature tornado in one hand while using the other to create lightning patterns in the air.
Completely absorbed in his own entertainment.
He looked like some ancient god of storms playing with reality itself.
Then he noticed Arden.
Those glowing eyes snapped to him with laser focus.
The sheer presence hit Arden like a physical force.
"FINALLY!"
The figure's voice was deep, rich, with an undertone like distant thunder.
He jumped up from the throne, unfolding to his full seven-foot height.
Arden had to resist the urge to step back.
"Oh thank the GODS, someone actually TOUCHED the stupid core!"
"Do you have ANY idea how boring it's been in here?!"
He approached in fluid, almost dance-like movements that made him seem to glide across the clouds despite his size.
Each step sent small ripples of wind and electricity across the ground.
"I mean, thirty years! THIRTY YEARS of nothing but my own thoughts and the occasional whisper from that annoying Outer God corruption!"
"Do you know what that's like?!"
"It's like being stuck in the world's longest, most boring meditation session except you can't even achieve enlightenment because there's a VOICE in your head constantly suggesting murder!"
He stopped directly in front of Arden.
Arden had to crane his neck up to maintain eye contact.
The divine beast was MASSIVE up close, radiating heat and ozone.
"Anyway, Vareth! About time you—"
He paused mid-sentence, tilting his head like a confused bird.
"Wait."
He leaned down, squinting at Arden with those enormous glowing eyes.
"Wait wait wait. You're... not Vareth."
Those eyes narrowed.
"But you look like him. Same ice-blue eyes. Same 'I'm-dead-inside-but-still-functional' expression. Same oppressive aura of competence."
He circled Arden like an excited bird of prey.
His movements creating small whirlwinds.
"But younger! MUCH younger!"
"And your cultivation is..."
He paused, apparently sensing Arden's level.
"Peak Fourth Stage? Not bad! Not Vareth-level, but hey, you look barely old enough to buy alcohol in most kingdoms!"
The figure completed his circuit, bouncing slightly on his toes.
Which was impressive given his size.
"So! Mystery person who looks like Vareth but isn't Vareth! Who ARE you?"
"Wait, let me guess!"
He pressed a finger to his lips dramatically.
"Secret apprentice? Illegitimate child he never mentioned? Clone? EVIL clone?"
"Ooh, are you an evil clone? That would be exciting!"
"I'm his son," Arden said, somewhat bewildered by the barrage of energy coming from this seven-foot storm deity.
Silence.
Complete, absolute silence.
The figure stared at him, mouth slightly open, eyes wide.
Then—
"BWAHAHAHA!"
He doubled over laughing, clutching his stomach.
Creating small thunderclaps with each guffaw.
"SON?! VARETH HAD A SON?!"
He actually collapsed onto the clouds, rolling around in hysterical laughter.
Creating miniature storms with every movement.
"NO WAY! NO POSSIBLE WAY!"
"That ice block actually—"
He gasped for breath between laughs, lightning crackling around him.
"Actually stopped being emotionally constipated long enough to—"
More laughter.
"To have a KID?!"
He sat up, wiping tears from his eyes.
Which were still glowing, making the tears look like liquid light dripping down his face.
"Oh gods, oh gods, this is the BEST news I've heard in thirty years!"
"Vareth 'I-Express-Emotions-By-Staring-Silently' Valekrest actually settled down! Had a family! Experienced human connection beyond 'competent working relationship!'"
He jumped to his feet with surprising agility for someone his size.
Approaching Arden again.
"Wait, but you look sixteen, maybe seventeen. Which means..."
His eyes widened.
"Oh. OH. I was sealed thirty years ago. So Vareth had you AFTER sealing me."
"Which means he was what, mid-twenties when I got sealed? And now he's..."
He counted on his fingers, which sparked with tiny lightning bolts.
"Probably mid-fifties? Still alive?"
"Very much alive. He's the Duke of the northern territories."
"Duke! Of course he's a Duke! Probably the most terrifyingly efficient Duke in history!"
The figure grinned, showing teeth that seemed slightly too sharp.
"Does he still do that thing where he just STARES at people until they confess their failures?"
"Because that was hilarious!"
Despite himself, Arden felt a slight smile.
"Yes. He does that."
"HA! Some things never change!"
The figure spun in a circle, wind swirling around him, feathers rustling.
"Okay okay okay, so you're Vareth's son, which means you're here because—"
His eyes focused on Arden with sudden intensity.
"You touched the integration core. You felt the pull. The compatibility resonance."
It wasn't a question.
"Yes," Arden confirmed.
The figure's expression shifted rapidly.
Excitement, hope, desperation, all flickering across his features in seconds.
Then he dropped to his knees.
Which brought him almost to Arden's eye level given the height difference.
Hands clasped together dramatically.
"PRETTY PLEASE DON'T LEAVE!"
Arden blinked.
"What?"
"PRETTY PLEASE WITH SUGAR AND STORMS AND LIGHTNING ON TOP!"
The massive figure inched forward on his knees, still in the supplicating position.
"I know I just made fun of your dad and I'm being weird and probably overwhelming but PLEASE don't just leave me here!"
"I've been alone for THIRTY YEARS and I'm going INSANE—well, more insane than I already was from the corruption—and you're the FIRST person who could even SENSE me let alone potentially integrate and—"
He took a dramatic breath.
"PLEASE! I'll be good! I'll be helpful! I'll teach you SO MANY COOL THINGS!"
"I can control storms! And lightning! And wind!"
"I can show you how to dance through battles like they're festivals! I know ancient cultivation techniques! I—"
"Stop," Arden said, holding up a hand.
The figure froze mid-ramble.
"First, get up. You look ridiculous."
"I AM ridiculous! But I'm also DESPERATE!"
Still, he stood, unfolding to his full towering height.
"Sorry. Thirty years of isolation does weird things to your social skills."
"I used to be smooth! Charming! I had THREE girlfriends at once and they all KNEW about each other and were OKAY with it because I was THAT good!"
He deflated slightly, his shoulders slumping.
"Now I'm just... this."
He gestured to himself, creating small lightning displays with the movement.
"A mess of enthusiasm and trauma wrapped in a pretty package with great hair."
Despite everything, Arden found himself almost charmed by the chaotic energy emanating from this towering storm deity.
"What's your name?"
The figure perked up immediately.
Straightening to his full height.
"OH! Right! Introductions! I'm Raikou!"
He spread his arms dramatically.
Massive storm winds swirled around him on cue, making his feathers billow dramatically.
"Divine Guardian Beast of the Eastern Kingdom of Auralis!"
"Dancer of the Storm!"
"Thunderous Protector!"
"The guy who definitely did NOT mean to go crazy and kill thousands of people but totally did and feels REALLY bad about it!"
He lowered his arms.
His manic energy dimming slightly.
"Also known as 'that corrupted beast that had to be sealed by four of the strongest cultivators on the continent because he went absolutely bonkers.'"
His voice grew quieter.
"Your father. King Roland. My king, Kintaro. And the Sword Saint Takeru."
"They worked together to stop me."