The white thunder clouds finally began to thin, drifting away in wisps of grey smoke to reveal the absolute devastation below. In the center of the cratered courtyard, Lin Chen was a harrowing sight.
He was charred completely black, his skin burnt and cracked like parched earth from the relentless battering of the celestial lightning. To any observer, he looked like a statue of ash, a lifeless husk left behind by the sky's fury.
High above, Dean Mo Jinghong and the Inner Elders stood on the surrounding rooftops, their robes fluttering in the residual static wind. They watched in a heavy, stifled silence. There was no conversation; the sheer impossibility of what they had witnessed—a Foundation disciple surviving a White Celestial Tribulation—had robbed even the most senior cultivators of their words. They simply watched as the blackened figure began to move, proving that the spark of life within him had not been extinguished.
With a slow, staggering gait that seemed to defy the limits of human endurance, Lin Chen turned. He did not look at the powerful men watching him from the heights, nor did he acknowledge the gasps of the few brave disciples watching from a distance.
His focus was entirely internal, locked on the volatile, jagged power currently thrashing within his meridians like a caged beast. With every step, flakes of burnt skin fell from his frame, leaving a trail of ash as he limped back into the ruins of his room. The door creaked shut, marking the beginning of a grueling seclusion to heal his scorched flesh and subdue the stolen power.
Outside, the air remained heavy with the scent of ozone. Mo Jinghong eventually signaled for the Elders to depart, his eyes lingering on the closed door with a deep, wordless curiosity. He knew the institute needed to channel the sudden surge of nervous energy among the students.
Shortly after, the booming voice of Elder Zhao began to resonate across the mountain peaks and training grounds.
"Disciples of the Sky-Frost Institute!" Zhao's voice carried the weight of his cultivation. "The cycle of the heavens turns once more. The Frost-Heaven Secret Realm, which opens its gates only once every ten years, is preparing to unlock. This is a tradition as old as the institute itself, a time for you to prove your mettle and seek the fortunes left by our ancestors."
The announcement sparked an immediate fire of excitement, but Zhao wasn't finished. "However, the Dean has decreed a change in this decade's trial. This time, the gates are open to both inner and outer disciples alike. Furthermore, the top ten performers—those who emerge with the greatest merit—will be granted the prestigious honor of traveling to the Imperial Capital. There, they will be granted the chance to be admitted into the Main Institute of the Sky-Frost Institute, the true heart of our institute."
Inside his room, Lin Chen sat in a meditative trance, deaf to the roar of excitement. The process he was undergoing was suicidal. He wasn't just "using" the lightning; he was absorbing the white celestial thunder as if he were taming a violent energy. The energy fought back, trying to incinerate his soul from the inside out. Every breath he took drew visible sparks from his pores as his Devouring Physique acted as a furnace, slowly melting the destructive "will" of the heavens and forcing the raw, white lightning to circulate through his meridians.
As he worked, his body began a miraculous transformation. The charred skin flaked off in large patches, revealing new flesh underneath that shimmered with a faint, metallic luster. He was painstakingly refining the essence of the white lightning, pulling it into his Dantian and forcing it to coexist with his own Qi. It was a battle of attrition; Using the calamity thunder to refine body and purify spiritual energy within him.
When the distant echoes of the announcement regarding the Main Institute finally filtered through his consciousness, Lin Chen's eyes snapped open. A sharp streak of white electricity flickered in his pupils. "There may be a chance to breakthrough to golden core in it".
Thinking of this He closed his eyes again, submerged in the crackling white light, focused on one goal: To refine the power of the heavens calamity thunder to strengthen his physique and temper his body and spiritual power.