The clouds were unnatural.
Black, spiraling with gold threads. They churned silently above the horizon like a slumbering beast had turned over in its sleep.
The elders exchanged alarmed glances.
"Tribulation clouds?"
"But… no one is ascending…"
Li Fan's heart pounded.
Inside his chest, the third cauldron blazed—and beside it, the Fourth Cauldron, the Wind Cauldron, pulsed for the first time.
> "Initiating Fourth Tempering: Wind Cauldron – Nerve Awakening."
> "Warning: From this stage forward, you defy the heavens."
> "Heavenly Tribulation protocol… beginning."
Suddenly, he couldn't breathe.
His body dropped to one knee.
Lightning gathered above. No chants. No warning. The sky didn't care for fairness.
Then a voice echoed in his mind—not the cauldron's, but one older. Cold. Ruthless.
> "You were not chosen. And yet you dare ascend."
> "We strike you down not for what you are—but for what you may become."
> "Let the Fourth Cauldron burn in ash."
CRACK!
The lightning struck.
The ground exploded. Stone vaporized. Dust blasted outward in a violent dome. Disciples screamed. Elders raised protective arrays.
When the smoke cleared…
Li Fan was still standing.
His body smoked, skin charred, eyes hollow.
But he stood.
And then, a second bolt fell—followed by a third, fourth, fifth.
Each time, his body broke.
Each time, he rose.
Inside, the Fourth Cauldron was shaping. His nerves ignited, twisted, sharpened. His reflexes heightened, senses expanded. He could hear every heartbeat around him. Feel every shift of wind. Time slowed.
He saw the final bolt forming.
> "Heaven won't let me live."
> "Then I'll stop asking permission."
He roared—fists raised—not to block the lightning, but to punch it.
The final bolt struck.
And he struck back.
BOOM!
Light swallowed the sky.
When it faded… he was on the ground.
Unconscious. Barely breathing.
But alive.
And within him, the Fourth Cauldron—the Wind Cauldron—gleamed like a blade in the storm.
The first Heavenly Tribulation had come.
And Li Fan had survived it.
But far above, in the realm of clouds and fate, something ancient stirred.
A figure cloaked in starlight turned their eyes toward the mortal world.
> "The Hegemon's legacy… awakens."
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