Thea's lips curled into a sly smile. "What if you chose a man who is destined to gain a True God Inheritance? Soone so powerful that even Lin Dan would have no choice but to step aside."
Lily sighed deeply, shaking her head. "That's easier said than done. Except for Simon, the son of the Nine Realms' Head, no one else is likely to obtain a True God Inheritance at the Immortal Beast Spirit Gathering. You know how fierce the competition is going to be."
Thea's confident smile remained. She leaned closer, her eyes boring into Lily's with a look that sent a shiver down her spine. "But what if there is soone else?" Thea asked, her voice low and serious. "Soone capable of getting a True God Inheritance?"
Lily stared at her sister in confusion. "What are you talking about?" she asked, her tone bewildered. "Who could possibly fight against the son of the 9 realms head…? More than anything, 70000 disciples will surround and won't let a fly near the war god temple."
Thea's smile widened, a knowing look in her eyes. "I just feel like soone would snatch the inheritance from Simon," she said, her voice almost a whisper, but it carried a weight that made Lily's heart skip a beat. "Would you agree to take this person as your fake husband if he really does obtain a True God Inheritance?"
Lily hesitated, her mind racing. Thea's idea seed too far-fetched, too improbable. And yet… there was sothing about Thea's certainty that made her want to believe. After a long pause, she sighed, giving in to her sister's determination. "Fine, I'll agree to it. But only if this person really does get a True God Inheritance and agrees to act as my fake partner." she said finally.
Thea's eyes sparkled with satisfaction, as if she had just set a masterful plan in motion. "Then it's a promise," she said firmly, holding out her hand to seal the agreent.
Lily stared at Thea's outstretched hand, her mind still clouded with doubt. With a deep breath, she took Thea's hand, sealing the pact between them. "It's a promise," Lily repeated, her voice steady, but her mind still filled with questions.
As they released hands, Thea's expression softened. She knew this was her opportunity to bring Kent back into the fold of the Seventh Realm, especially for the upcoming Trident Summit. If Kent could obtain the True God Inheritance, he would be more than just a shield for Lily—he would be a force that could change the balance of power within the realms.
Lily, still unsure of what her sister had in mind, finally said goodbye.
As the sisters parted, Lily couldn't help but look back at Thea, her mind buzzing with curiosity and apprehension. Thea, in turn, watched her sister walk away, her heart swelling with a mixture of hope. This was her chance to not only help Lily but to secure Kent's place within the Seventh Realm.
As she turned back to the lotus pond, Thea allowed herself a small smile. The wheels were set in motion, and now, all she needed was for Kent to rise to the occasion.
-
Two weeks had passed and the days were slipping away, leaving only two months for the Immortal Beast Spirit Gathering. Kent and Master Tang Zi stood at the edge of the Ever Raining Sea, located at the far southern side of the Sixth Realm.
This sea was a place where the storm never ceased, its dark waters churning beneath an endless torrent of rain, and the sky was perpetually filled with roaring thunderclouds.
Tang Zi, had brought Kent here with a single purpose in mind: to master the sixth stage of the Storm God Tyrant Physique—Cyclone Step.
This spell required the practitioner to experience the fury of a continuous storm, honing their body and spirit to move through the most torrential of downpours without a single raindrop touching them. Such was the power of the Cyclone Step spell.
For the last seven days, Kent had been training relentlessly. The storm attacked him with wind and rain, each drop like a needle against his skin. He had pushed himself to the brink of exhaustion, running through the storm at speeds that defied logic.
Despite his incredible progress, he still hadn't fully mastered the spell. His movents were fast—unbelievably so—but he hadn't yet reached the point where he could run between raindrops and stay dry while under a storm.
Thunder cracked through the air, and dark lightning arced across the sky, turning the world around him into a chaotic dance of light and sound. Tang Zi stood at a distance, watching silently, his eyes keen and focused on Kent's every move. The ti had co for Kent to push beyond his limits.
Standing on the jagged rocks, Kent muttered the incantation for Cyclone Step spell, his voice almost drowned out by the howling wind. He called upon his aura, feeling the storm god's power course through his veins as described in the manual of the Storm God Tyrant Physique. The energy surged within him, responding to his will, and he began to move.
At first, his steps were asured, calculated. He dashed through the storm, his body a blur of motion. The rain seed to hesitate around him, but it still touched him, brushing against his skin and soaking his clothes. He gritted his teeth, his frustration growing. This wasn't enough. He needed to move faster, lighter, with more precision.
Ti passed like a moving rain…
For seven days and seven nights, Kent fought against the storm. He rested only briefly, allowing himself just enough ti to recover before plunging back into the relentless tempest. Each ti he invoked the Cyclone Step, he pushed himself harder, his body straining under the imnse pressure.
On the seventh day, sothing within Kent shifted as he understood the deep secret and balance behind the cyclone step spell. Like a teenager who learned to drive the motorbike, Kent finally found his rhythm.
His movents beca fluid, effortless. He no longer fought against the storm, he moved with it, becoming one with the wind and rain. He sped through the storm, faster than he ever had before, his body a re shadow in the downpour. The rain parted around him, leaving him untouched, as if he were moving in a different dinsion.
When he finally stepped out of the storm, his clothes were completely dry. Not a single drop of rain had marred his skin.
-
Your's lovingly,
PeterPan :-)
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