The morning mist clung to the jagged peaks as I stepped through the gate of the Inheritance Hall. A strange hum filled the air, resonating like lightning itself. How troublesome. Couldn't they have just handed me a copy of the cultivation techniques? Why all these trifles? I thought. Last night, I had tried writing the thunder's name, but every stroke vanished as if it had never existed. It seemed every method of communication was blocked by that power, how interesting.
Cultivation and strength didn't truly interest me, yet such methods were undeniably enviable.
I walked toward the inner sanctum, where my mother was already waiting.
"You are late. Again," she said, her face stern.
I offered a practiced smile. "Perhaps it's you who arrived early."
"You!" she snorted. "Perhaps your father is right—I have pampered you enough."
With that, she twisted my ear, leaving me no chance to react, a subtle reminder of her peak Foundation Establishment cultivation.
"Go in. I will wait for you here," she said, pushing the heavy door open with nothing but the force of her will.
I stepped forward, my pace steady. Beyond the door, a staircase plunged into darkness, narrow and winding. The air grew cooler as I descended, tinged with a faint metallic scent that made my skin prickle. The walls were embedded with jagged crystals, each one flickering faintly as though aware of my presence, casting fractured shadows that danced along the cold stone.
A strange resonance hummed in the air, subtle but unmistakable, like the heartbeat of lightning trapped beneath the earth.
Step by step, I continued downward. The echoes of my boots multiplied and stretched, distorting reality with every footfall. The deeper I went, the heavier the air felt, as if the very atmosphere resisted my presence. Faint glimmers of light appeared far below, shifting and pulsing, yet offering no clarity, only a promise that the unknown waited at the bottom.
Minutes stretched, my thoughts sharp and detached.
The darkness thinned, and a purple glow emerged at the end of the staircase, a light that promised revelation.
The steps ended within a vast chamber shaped like the interior of a pyramid. Its slanted walls were covered in ancient murals, painted in strokes of ash and violet, depicting endless scenes of war and thunder. Armies clashed beneath storm-shrouded skies. Spears shattered, bodies fell, and lightning split the heavens as if anger itself had taken form.
On the ceiling was a single, dominant image.
A man stood atop a mountain of corpses, his figure tall and unyielding. His head was thrown back as he roared at the heavens above, defiant and wrathful. In his raised hand was a banner pointed skyward, lightning erupting from it in violent arcs. Above him, the clouds churned chaotically, as though the heavens themselves were bound by that banner's will.
At the center of the chamber stood a colossal statue, at least a hundred feet tall.
It was cast from obsidian and thunder crystals, its surface faintly glowing with restrained lightning. The figure's face was rugged and severe, yet his hair was meticulously groomed, exuding a dignity that tempered his ferocity.
Both of his hands were wrapped around a banner planted firmly into the ground.
At first glance, the banner appeared unremarkable.
Yet I knew better.
The fabric did not seem woven at all. It was lightning given form, flickering and writhing in restrained fury. Only the shaft was solid, obsidian black and engraved with countless runes that pulsed faintly with power. At its center was a name, carved as though lightning itself had scorched it into existence.
"Wrathful Thunder," I murmured.
At once, the lightning surrounding the banner surged, responding to the spoken name.
My gaze hardened.
This was the Law Embodiment Ancestor of the sect.
Wrathful Thunder.
Ancestor Leiyan.
The surge of lightning did not last.
The violent brilliance receded, the banner returning to its calm, watchful state. The chamber fell into silence, only a faint hum from the banner could be heard.
I exhaled slowly.
So there was no test, but a measure.
The eyes of the statue began to glow, lightning patterns ignited throughout the floor, spreading like veins through stone.
A silent pressure settled on my consciousness, vast and impartial as if an unseen gaze had descended upon my essence, staring into my soul.
Not Hostile.
I realized its purpose, it was to check the origin of my soul, to ensure it has not been altered or possessed, after it was done probing and confirming my soul is normal it left the procedures for the next step in my consciousness.
The next step was to drop some heart blood on the altar, "How troublesome", I said.
I shaped Qi around my hand like a needle and then jammed it into my heart, I used Qi to grab a drop of blood from my heart and quickly retracted it.
The drop of blood shot toward the altar, moving with startling speed. It reached the statue's feet and sank silently into the obsidian stone, vanishing without a trace.
The hall returned to stillness.
Then, without warning, fragments of knowledge surfaced within my mind, not as voices or visions, but as cold, orderly information, precise and complete.
First came the Qi Gathering Scripture.
It was divided into seven steps, each one clear and uncompromising:
Step One — Yin
Step Two — Yang
Step Three — Water
Step Four — Fire
Step Five — Wood
Step Six — Earth
Step Seven — Metal.
Next was the Foundation Establishment Scripture.
It consisted of four parts, their outlines faint and indistinct, veiled by a restriction I immediately understood, I would not be permitted to access them until the Qi Gathering process was complete.
Lastly came the Primordial Spirit Scripture.
Its presence was… different. Vast, heavy, and incomplete. I could sense its existence, yet its stages remained concealed, as though even the inheritance itself deemed me unqualified to know them for now.
A jade seal appeared in mid air, then floated towards me, on it was depicted a Heaven reaching mountain and a massive thunderstorm above it that was continuously spewing out thunder, on the other side was a name, his name, Tianyang Leilong.
I felt no excitement.
No awe.
Only mild appreciation.
"So that's how it is," I murmured.
The inheritance was not a reward, nor a blessing.
It was a path laid out plainly, indifferent to whether I chose to walk it or not.
The knowledge settled, arranging itself neatly within my consciousness, as though it had always been there, merely waiting to be uncovered.
The statue's eyes dimmed. The lightning veins threading the floor receded back into stone. Whatever mechanism had judged me had reached its conclusion, and with it, the inheritance hall lost the last traces of intent.
Nothing else happened.
I stood there for a moment longer, half-expecting another development—some final instruction, some grand proclamation—but the silence remained absolute.
"…So that's it."
With no further reason to linger, I turned and made my way back toward the staircase. Each step upward felt lighter than the descent, the oppressive pressure gone, leaving only the faint, ever-present hum of thunder deep within the mountain.
By the time I emerged from the sanctum, the heavy doors sealing themselves behind me, the outside air felt almost mundane.
My mother was waiting where she said she would be, arms crossed, expression unreadable.
"Well?" she asked.
"It's done," I replied simply.
She studied my face for a long moment, as if searching for signs of strain, excitement, or change. Finding none, she snorted softly. "As expected."
Without another word, she turned and began walking. I followed, leaving the inheritance hall behind.
"Next, you will go to Moongaze Lake, in Luochen Marshlands," my mother said. Her expression was calm, unreadable. "You will meet your uncle, Tianrong. Before you depart, take thunder wine with you. A great deal of it. And bring eleven attendants. You know… he has a unique personality."
"I understand," I replied with a smile.
As usual, I took the long way back, letting my steps slow as I admired the scenery. Disciples and servants alike stopped to offer greetings. I returned them with the same practiced smile I always wore.
"What a monotonous life," I muttered with a sigh.
Several hours later, I arrived home.
I watched her turn and issue quiet instructions to the servants. Storage rings were brought out. Robes suitable for cold, Yin-heavy environments were selected. Talismans were checked and rechecked. Even before leaving, the weight of the place pressed faintly against my senses, as if the path itself had already begun to pull.
After a moment, Yanruo returned. "Young Master, shall we use the teleportation array?"
I considered it briefly, then shook my head. "No. Prepare a chariot instead."
"A chariot?" she asked, surprised. "It will take four days."
"There is no rush," I replied. "Arrange a driver who knows the surrounding lands well. I want to see the road."
She bowed. "As you wish."
"At once, Young Master."
"And prepare five hundred catties of thunder wine," I added. "As for attendants, bring eleven between the ages 18 and 21, Those with discipline and strong constitutions, perhaps i would have given you out, but you are a bit too old."
Yanruo hesitated, then nodded. "Understood."
I glanced at her and smiled faintly. "Relax. You're my model, my property, you are mine."
She stiffened for half a breath before realizing what I meant, then exhaled quietly.
"Hah. I'm joking," I said, patting her head lightly.
"You're indispensable. I wouldn't give you away even if I could."
She lowered her head, ears faintly red. "You shouldn't joke about such things, Young Master."
I laughed softly.
Moongaze Lake… thunder wine… Uncle Tianrong.
This journey, at least, might not be boring.