The week of peace on Aethelgard was a necessary balm, but it was not a solution. Ren, his spiritual scar now fully mended, felt the deep, resonant power of a Rank 21 Aether Disciple humming in his core. Yet, as he stood on the storm-wracked peak, watching the lightning dance across the sky, he felt a profound sense of incompleteness.
The voice of Zephyrion echoed this sentiment, his tone one of sharp, critical assessment. "You have the soul of a Sky-Lord, but the tools of a grounded brawler. You survived your encounter with the Master, but you did not win. You fled. Your 'Raijin's Flash' is a duelist's trick, a tool for evasion and ambush. Against a true Master who can command the battlefield, you are a fly buzzing in a bottle. Your Aegis armor… it is a king's robe without its crown. It is incomplete."
Ren listened, knowing the spirit was right. His victory had been one of stealth and desperation.
"The Resonance Archive spoke of this," Ren said, his hand resting on the Soul-Forge Gauntlet. "The Aegis of the Sky-Lord has a heart."
"Indeed," Zephyrion confirmed. "A Resonant Heartstone. It is the central component, the focusing lens that unlocks the armor's true potential. Without it, the Aegis is merely a superior suit of armor. With it… the armor becomes a part of you. It grants the wearer the Phantom Wings of the Storm—the ability to command the winds and ride the lightning. It grants true flight."
The path forward became instantly, blindingly clear. To face enemies like Archon Fen, to stand against the horrors of the Void, he could not be bound to the earth.
"Where do I find such a stone?" Ren asked.
"It cannot be mined or forged by lesser hands," Zephyrion explained. "It must be grown. It is a unique crystalline formation that develops only within the Aetheric core of a creature that possesses an innate, absolute mastery of the sky. A beast of the tempest."
The answer was not in the Raijin archives, but in the data they had stolen. Ren returned to the Nautilus and conferred with Anya, presenting his need. Her eyes lit up with intellectual fervor as she cross-referenced Ren's requirements with the detailed bestiary they had acquired from the Pagoda.
"The Pagoda's data is a treasure trove," she murmured, filtering through dozens of high-ranking Aether Beasts. "Based on your requirements—a creature with innate flight mastery and a core compatible with lightning resonance—there is one perfect candidate."
She brought up a holographic image. It was a majestic, terrifying creature, a fusion of a great eagle and a powerful lion, its wings not of feather, but of solidified cloud and crackling electricity.
"A Tempest-Winged Griffin," Anya said. "A rare, A-Rank territorial predator. And according to this stolen data, a powerful alpha specimen, a Rank 28, has established a nesting ground in the remote Cinderwood mountains."
The obstacle was as clear as the goal. A Rank 28 beast was a threat to a whole squad of veteran Disciples. Ren, at Rank 21, would be slaughtered.
"I am not strong enough," Ren stated, the fact a cold, hard truth.
"No," Anya agreed, her gaze intense. "Not yet."
And so, Ren's true training began. His purpose was no longer just to heal or consolidate. It was to forge himself into a weapon capable of hunting a king of the skies. His cultivation took on a new, fierce intensity. On the Raijin throne, fueled by the endless storm of Aethelgard, he pushed his core to its absolute limit. The bottleneck to Rank 22 shattered. Two days later, a grueling session saw him break through to Rank 23. The incremental progression was slow, arduous, and utterly necessary.
His physical training became dynamic and adaptive. He was no longer just practicing his skills; he was preparing for a specific enemy. He would use Raijin's Flash not to move across the ground, but in vertical, disorienting bursts, training to fight in a three-dimensional battlespace. He spent hours honing the speed and accuracy of his Thunder's Needle, launching it at distant, storm-tossed branches, simulating attacks on a fast-moving aerial target. He began weaving the Aegis of the Storm into new shapes—not just a dome, but a narrow, forward-facing shield to deflect a diving attack.
After two weeks of relentless, purposeful effort, he stood on the throne one final time. A vortex of lightning swirled around him as he smashed the final barrier. He had reached Rank 25.
He returned to the Nautilus, his body humming with a new level of power, his mind sharpened by his focused training.
Anya met him on the bridge. "The ship is ready. Are you?"
Ren looked at the holographic image of the Tempest-Winged Griffin, his eyes burning with the cold fire of a predator. "Set a course for the Cinderwood," he commanded. "The hunt is on."