It was a new day, yet the storm raged as it had for six relentless months.
Lassim stood in the center of the East Grove, his halberd held loosely at his side. The rain and lightning lashed at him, but it no longer cut or struck into his skin. The wind, once a constant battering force, now swirled around him in chaotic eddies that seed to flow in harmony with his existence. He was no longer a victim of the storm that he had braved all those months ago.
There was a major difference in understanding that he’d reached with both his fused mana and his own elental proficiencies that made it up. His mastery of his affinities for Lightning, Water and Space had practically been doubled during this ti and it led to an enlightennt.
There was a faint outline of fused mana swirling across his body. It wasn’t a protective barrier, no, but a manifestation of his current state and status within the storm. It was like his body was surrounded by it, and with a thought, more and more of the surrounding storm was drawn towards his presence. His spiritual pressure was now, quite literally, a storm.
If Sect Master Volten, his master, had been in his presence, he’d be quite literally shocked to near half death. Volten, as a bonafide Spirit Prince, was only now beginning the journey towards making his own domain. He’d created his own Law of Lightning, and just recently discovered the next steps… Yet, here was his disciple. A young 16 year old man, halfway towards his 17th birthday and a Spirit Ascension level 8, nearly level 9, cultivator, with the early beginning signs that would lead to the formation of what would eventually be his Demi-God domain.
The lightning sprite fish filled with his intent darted within this manifestation of storm around him, their forms sharper, and oddly sprouting more tentacles from their rear tails than before. They swam through the currents of mana, both with a typical fish swimming motion and a few others that jetted forward quickly like an octopus jutting forward with the tentacles, awaiting his unspoken command.
Lassim shifted his stance, like he’d done thousands of tis before, his stance digging his feet into the damp ground. He inhaled deeply, feeling the rhythm of the storm—not just hearing it or sensing it, but becoming a part of it. The casual amount of storm that was drifting to join his manifestation and spiritual pressure storm that surrounded him suddenly surged. A massive amount of the surrounding wind, rain and lightning engulfed him like a tornado as he moved.
"Again," he whispered to himself.
He swung his halberd in a sweeping arc, and this ti, the release of his mana was no longer the chaotic ball of fused mana that it had once been. The attack wasn’t simply his sa old [Slash] that he’d practiced since childhood. The spiral of fused lightning, water, and spatial energy flowed outward like a terrifying storm, tearing through the air with an elegance that mirrored the Tempest’s Cradle itself. The lightning sprite fish surged and followed along with the storm, their glowing forms weaving through the spiral, searching for a target to destroy, as it crashed into the storm-torn landscape.
For a mont, the entirety of the storm that made up the Tempest’s Cradle seed to recoil, the rain and wind pulling back as if threatened slightly by Lassim’s new battle technique.
"That’s it!" Lassim smiled and shouted excitedly.
Mari’s calm voice resonated in his mind. "[You’ve finally managed it, child! Congratulations. Your storm is truly beautiful.]"
Zaphy chirped and flew like a lightning bolt around his inner heart world with with excitent as she joined in with Lassim’s shout, "[It’s so cool! Did you see that? Did you feel it? Brother, you’re like a whole tempest with legs now! Too bad you don’t have wings, but maybe soday you will!]"
Lassim couldn’t help the laughter that followed, imagining himself with wings instead of arms, "[How would I even hold my halberd if I have wings, you silly bird. Hahaha!]" This was what he had been striving for, day after grueling day.
Lassim lowered his halberd, willing—with a wave of his free hand—the spiral of mana to dissipate into the storm’s unrelenting chaos.
Thinking back, Lassim knew this developnt of his technique wasn’t born from chance or sheer repetition during these last six months. No, the seed of this technique had already been planted long ago, during his ti before the Sect War in the Water Goddess Ava’s divine trial.
The mory had co suddenly to him unbidden and vivid against the backdrop of the raging East Grove tempest whilst in ditation one day 5 months ago.
In Ava’s trial, he had been shown glimpses of potential futures, possibilities of what the future might hold and testing his resolve and mindset in the face of adversity. Yet, he realized—didn’t this also an it was what he could beco?
Among those visions, one stood out starkly—a future where he was called the "The Void Storm Demi-God" and wielded halberd like a conductor of terrifying spatial storms against the attacking Dragal Generals.
In that mory, Lassim had raised his hand, and the air around him had begun to warp and distort. "[Void Storm Domain]," he rembered saying.
That false sky in the mory above him had darkened as his domain manifested, rging with reality itself.
A projection of a terrifying, nearly empty void filled with only tempests of swirling space-ti, shattering shards of space, shifted into existence.
The domain had been a reflection of his inner heart world and the move born from that inspiration, a storm of chaos and destruction that extended far beyond the limits of the physical realm.
The Abyssal Generals had had no ti to react before they were dealt with in 5 seconds.
At the ti, the vision had seed unbelievable, almost alien. How could he, a struggling cultivator at the peak of Spirit Transformation stage even comprehend such an overwhelming and incomprehensible power? He had no fra of reference for how he’d even obtained such a power or known what kind of effort had led to his mastery of it.
Yet now, standing amidst the storm within the East Grove that had battered him for months, Lassim understood. That future hadn’t been a fantasy to test his ntal preparedness and morals in a tough situation—it had been a glimpse of his future path the gods saw in him. The mory was a sad one, but now only slightly happier that he’d found a way forward with his attack style that he’d wanted through it.
"Stupid," he muttered with slight frustration at himself. "All this ti... it’s been so obvious."
Mari’s calm voice resonated in his mind, pulling him back to the present as she was aware of his reminiscing back to that image of where he still lost his loved ones in this make believe future tiline. "[The gods really are not subtle in their guidance, but I believe this is purely sothing you’ve obtained yourself, child.]"
Zaphy chirped in agreent, "[Yeah! But now the storm is our buddy! Well, maybe not the big anie that keeps hiding, but the storm itself—it’s totally yours now brother!]"
Lassim chuckled, shaking his head. "[It took long enough to realize it, didn’t it?]" he admitted. The storm that had left him bloody and broken so many tis that first month wasn’t supposed to be his opponent.
"[Storm Bringer]," he muttered aloud, his voice low but firm. His cultivation technique had been given to him long ago by Famthar when he needed it as a Spirit Incubation cultivator on his first actual day at the Myriad Spirit Academy, and its na had always felt aspirational or a little overbearing. Yet now, it resonated differently. They’d really intended this path from the start and now, he’d altered his intended fate from what the god’s intended just slightly. He wasn’t going to just be a bringer of storms, but actually beco and embody the storm entirely.
This revelation that led to the developnt of his now new, and tentatively nad, [Storm Slash] technique wasn’t the only thing that advanced either. He was fully committing to developing a [Void Storm] embodied style, and his improvent with his teleportation side project led to another bit of progress that had co much earlier, nearly a month ago compared to today’s success.
A month prior, his [Tempest Steps] or rather his new [Storm’s Dance] had beco sothing incredible. It changed completely from the previous process of becoming a bolt of lightning to move quickly through the skies or during intense battles.
He’d co to the idea after the completion of his [Connect], [Condense], [Interact], and [Distance] runes of the spatial alphabet. He’d been wanting to use the spatial elent to surprise opponents in battle, no longer travel casually through the air, but instead, simply condensing the spatial fabric between his steps?
He’d taken the ti to purchase several new pairs of boots with tallic, array plate show bottoms that he’d engraved, after quite a bit of trial and error, an array system that helped him perform the [Storm’s Dance] the way he wanted.
Abruptly, wanting to test the combination of these two techniques together, a swirling current of lightning, water, and spatial energy spiraled around his boots like ethereal whirlwinds. These miniature storms weren’t just an aftereffect—they were his best attempt at a deliberate shield, a smokescreen, that concealed the true chanics of his [Storm’s Dance]’s use of the spatial elent.
With a lifting of his foot ward, a single step, Lassim condensed the spatial fabric that existed everywhere and pulled a far off point towards the bottom of his right foot, holding the previous fabric where his left foot was still touching the ground. His engraved array boots activate with a faint pulse of power.
The movent was seamless, the step carrying him an incredible distance in less than the blink of an eye. The natural storm he embodied within his spiritual pressure followed him tethered to his every movent technique and helped obfuscate the chanics of how it worked..
The storm churned violently as Lassim lunged forward with a swing of his weapon, the halberd’s blade slicing through the air with a powerful flourish. The storm around him repeated the sa as before and answered his call, amplifying the strike with a surge of elental fury. The resulting spiraling storm of fused mana tore through the tempest in the surroundings.
But this was only the beginning.
Lassim’s movents didn’t cease.
With an effortless pivot, he brought his halberd back into position, the swirling mana storms at his feet still surging. In a blur of motion, he stepped sideways this ti, vanishing from his position and reappearing several ters away mid-swing. His spatial manipulation was perfectly hidden within the storm, the clouds and rain around him seamlessly disguising his teleportation.
He almost didn’t even need to land in the new position as his feet and body reacted as if he was just taking a single step before releasing another [Storm Slash].
Lassim paused for a mont, watching the aftermath of his strike, before stepping again, backwards this ti. His figure flickered, the storm trailing him as he reappeared on the far side of the grove.
Another [Storm Slash] erupted from his halberd, its trajectory deliberately angled to avoid the grove’s sparse trees.
The Tempest’s Cradle storm shuddered with each strike, the ambient mana in the air recoiling slightly as if pushed to its limits. Each teleportation step brought him closer to understanding the true potential of his fused mana, his new movent technique and the success of the first move of his new fighting style.
He ca to an abrupt halt after his fifth step, his halberd lowered as he surveyed the tempest around him.
"Perfect," Lassim muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible over the wind. His fused mana storm swirled tightly around him with his spiritual pressure, long since keeping him dry and safe from the threat of the East Grove.
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