The second dawn after the storm rose gently over Luo Peak, spilling golden light across the quiet courtyard. The morning wind carried the scent of dew and blooming flowers, brushing through the leaves like a whisper of peace after chaos.
YunKai Tao was already awake, seated cross-legged in the garden, his eyes closed and his breath steady. Mist clung lightly around him, drawn by the subtle pulse of spiritual energy rising from his body. Every inhalation carried warmth into his veins; every exhalation calmed the faint turbulence that lingered within.
Not far from him sat Luo Tang, also in meditation. His aura, though bright and strong, wavered like a newborn flame—overflowing and unsteady. The boy struggled to restrain the new power that came with his recent breakthrough, but determination burned in his young face.
The day before, both of them had prepared to return to their regular training, yet Luo Mother had stood firm. She refused to let Tao leave the house so soon after waking from his unconscious state. "You're not going anywhere until your body stabilizes," she had said, her tone allowing no argument. And so, only Luo Tang had gone to training that day—his first session without his cousin's company.
But the absence had made him restless. Halfway through the morning, Luo Tang had bolted from the training grounds, declaring to the elders, "I need to check on my brother! He's still recovering, and I'm worried about him!" The excuse had been transparent, and the elders had simply sighed as he vanished down the hill.
For that, his mother had ensured he rose before sunrise today, kicking him out of the house to "run off the laziness." Yet now, even as he meditated beside Tao, she had achieved her purpose—the boy's spirit was calm again, the same fiery energy now focused and refined by discipline.
In contrast, YunKai Tao's focus was turned inward—deep within himself, to the battlefield of his blood.
With each slow breath, he listened to the rhythm of his heart and followed the flow of energy through his veins. The more he concentrated, the clearer he felt it—the chaotic storm that once raged within him had quieted, and now the different energies were slowly realigning.
His black energy, once uncontrollable and dominant, had weakened considerably. The purification from the Twelve Heavenly Thunders had changed its very nature; now it stirred sluggishly, confined to a few regions within his body, as if stripped of its former strength. The heavenly lightning that remained inside him flickered faintly, its divine resonance still active, continuing to suppress the black essence like a silent guardian.
The other five energies—red, white, green, blue, and golden—had stabilized, their hostility toward one another gone. They no longer clashed; instead, they coexisted like soldiers recovering after battle. However, the interaction between the heavenly lightning and the black essence was still unstable. Whenever the two touched, a violent shockwave rippled through his blood, threatening to destroy both energies together. This constant conflict weakened the protective barrier around his heart, making it more vulnerable than before.
Tao understood what that meant—the lightning's blessing came with danger. It purified, but its very existence continued to consume his vitality.
He needed a solution.
Within his meditation, Tao visualized the inside of his body as a vast battlefield of blood and energy, divided into three great territories:
The Black Blood Region, where remnants of corruption still lingered, twisting silently in defiance.
The Five-Energies Region, where the five colored energies flowed in harmony—red, white, green, blue, and golden—each representing a unique essence that once struggled for dominance but now watched and waited in balance.
And the Mortal Blood Region, newly formed after the heavenly purification—a pale, refined energy that felt neither divine nor corrupted, but deeply human.
He quickly realized that this Mortal Blood was the key. It had been born from his own essence after surviving the Twelve-Colored Heavenly Punishment, untainted and stable. Unlike the five colored energies, it carried no aggression and no pride; it was neutral, adaptive, and alive—a quiet harmony born of chaos.
When he guided his senses deeper, he discovered something critical. The Five-Color Energies and the Mortal Blood coexisted peacefully; their frequencies were compatible, resonating like strings of the same melody. Yet whenever the Black Energy came between them, the balance shattered.
The black essence acted like a void between worlds—a hungry force that rejected coexistence. If it intruded between the Five Energies and the Mortal Blood, it caused violent shockwaves of spiritual conflict. Each clash consumed immense energy, weakening both the heavenly lightning still lingering within his body and the protective barrier around his heart.
It was clear: the Five Energies and Mortal Blood could never directly face the Black Energy without a bridge. The moment their currents collided, the resulting backlash could destroy both.
This was the chaos he now faced.
To resolve it, Tao contemplated two paths:
Suppression — to seal the Black Blood within a single, isolated corner of his body, using the Five Energies as a wall. Safe, but stagnant—he would survive, yet never advance beyond this flawed balance.
Purification — to merge the Mortal Blood and the Five Energies into a united force that could gradually convert the Black Blood into pure essence, with the aid of the lingering Heavenly Lightning. Dangerous, but transformative.
His heartbeat echoed through his mind like a drum of fate.
If I choose suppression, he thought, I'll live safely… but my path ends here. If I choose purification, I may die—but if I succeed, I'll be reborn.
After a long silence, he made his decision.
Drawing in a deep breath, Tao gathered his will and began guiding the Mortal Blood Energy from every corner of his body, slowly channeling it toward a single point near the right side of his heart, where the Black Energy was weakest. This would become his inner battlefield—a controlled arena where the purification would begin.
The process demanded impossible precision. Each pulse of lightning that flared within him had to be balanced against the rhythm of the Five Energies; every misstep could cause collapse. Yet Tao's control had evolved. The thunders that once tore through him like punishment now felt like refining flames, shaping him bit by bit.
Through deep meditation, he began to see patterns in the chaos. The Heavenly Lightning was not a weapon—it was a refiner. It broke down impurities, tempered strength, and nourished the Five Energies like divine medicine. The Green and Blue energies, born of his aunt and uncle's blood essence, responded first, refined and strengthened by the lightning's touch. Then, Red, White, and Golden joined, harmonizing into a single rhythm that pushed back against the black tide.
The Mortal Blood acted as a stabilizer between them all, soothing conflicts and absorbing excess force. Whenever the Black Energy tried to force its way between the Five Energies and the Mortal Blood, shockwaves erupted—but each time, the Mortal Blood softened the blow, redirecting the impact and gradually eroding the black's influence.
Still, the black essence remained stubborn and defiant. Yet Tao smiled faintly in his meditation. The heavens themselves are on my side, he thought.
The lightning within him would never fade completely; its echoes would remain like silent sentinels. And if the darkness ever rose again, he now knew how to summon the thunder once more—not as punishment, but as a tool of purification.
He also knew the risk. The heavenly will was not merciful. Each summoning would draw stronger, harsher punishment; the might of heaven grew with each challenge. A single mistake could erase his body before the transformation was complete.
Even so, Tao's resolve was unshakable. If my life must be the price for rebirth, then so be it.
As the morning sun rose higher, light brushed across Tao's closed eyes. Faint sparks of lightning flickered beneath his skin, and the flowers of Luo Peak swayed gently beside him, as if bowing to a force greater than mortal will.
From a short distance away, Luo Father and Luo Mother stood silently beneath the old maple tree that shaded the garden. Their faces were calm, yet their eyes glowed faintly with spiritual light—they were not merely watching Tao; they were sensing him. Through the subtle bond formed from years of blood essence support, they could faintly feel the fluctuations of energy within his body.
Through their shared spiritual sight, they could perceive the faint traces of lightning winding through his meridians, weaving between the five-colored energies like a silver thread of law. The five colors shimmered faintly, steady but cautious, while the black essence lingered below them—vast, heavy, and stubbornly alive. Between them, a fragile balance was forming.
Deep within himself, Tao was not fighting, not clashing—only dividing.
His inner world now lay separated into three distinct regions.
The Five Energies Region, where the five colored forces gathered together in quiet harmony. Their light pulsed faintly, forming a protective layer within him. A small trace of heavenly thunder lingered here, weak but refining—like a silent forge tempering their strength.
The Black Region, far larger and denser, where the corrupted blood energy still coiled like a restless tide. Faint sparks of heavenly thunder were also present here, but weak and easily swallowed by the darkness, as if imprisoned within the black sea.
And the Mortal Blood Region, the smallest of all—just a fragile sphere of soft light, newly born and pure. Though tiny, its pulse carried a sense of life and renewal.
For now, there was no battle, no merging—only separation and control. The three regions existed in fragile stillness, each acknowledging the other's presence but holding their borders.
From the outside, the Luo couple could sense that balance taking shape. The black essence no longer surged wildly; the chaotic fluctuations had steadied into an organized rhythm.
Luo Mother's brows furrowed. She sent a spiritual message to her husband, her voice trembling slightly within his mind.
"It looks like… everything depends on Tao now. Whatever path he chooses—whether to suppress or to cleanse—only he can decide it. I… I feel so helpless. We've guided him, protected him all these years, and yet now… I can't do anything for him."
Luo Father stood in silence for a moment, his eyes fixed on Tao's meditating form. His deep voice echoed through their link, steady and resolute.
"We've done all we could. Since his birth, we've poured our blood essence into him, suppressing that darkness again and again. But that was never a cure—only a cage. The true choice was always meant for him. If he can face the corruption within and endure the will of heaven again, then perhaps… he can free himself from the fate that has bound him since childhood."
Luo Mother lowered her gaze, her hands tightening around her robe.
"You really think he can do it? To face that black energy head-on? Even the heavenly lightning barely contained it last time. If he fails…"
Luo Father's expression softened, yet there was pride in his tone.
"If he fails, then at least he will fall standing. But I believe in him. That child's will has never bent—not even under the Twelve-Colored Punishment. What we call impossible, he turns into his next step."
For a moment, neither of them spoke. Only the wind moved—the gentle rustling of leaves, the soft hum of energy rising from the mountain peak.
Then, Luo Mother exhaled softly, her voice low but filled with quiet faith.
"You're right. We can't fight this battle for him. But we can watch… and pray that the heavens show mercy."
Together they turned their gaze back toward Tao. The lightning beneath his skin brightened for a heartbeat—flashing once like a heartbeat of thunder—before fading again.
Somewhere deep within his body, the three regions held their silent vigil: the vast Black Region, the steady Five Energies Region, and the tiny Mortal Blood Region, glowing faintly with fragile warmth. Heavenly thunder shimmered softly between them, keeping the balance alive for now.
Luo Mother felt it first, a warmth that touched her heart like sunlight through mist.
"He's changing," she whispered. "The aura around him… it's not the same as before."
While the two spoke softly beneath the maple tree, Tao was still deep in concentration, his breathing steady, his mind fixed inward. He wasn't using any spiritual sense—only his awareness, his will, and the rhythm of his heartbeat to guide him.
Inside his body, the three regions had now taken form. The Five Energies Region shimmered faintly, holding together in quiet order. The Black Region loomed larger and darker than before, restless and alive, its essence twisting and churning like something that possessed its own will. The Mortal Blood Region—smallest and weakest—had only just begun to take shape, a pale light that flickered softly in the depths of his veins.
At this stage, Tao's focus was entirely on gathering that Mortal Blood into the right side of his heart, where the presence of the black essence was faintest. The process was slow—agonizingly slow. Every pulse of his heart scattered the newly refined blood through his body again, and he had to fight to guide it back.
The Mortal Blood was fragile, newly formed after the heavenly punishment. It was pure, but weak, and easily disrupted by the chaotic flow of the other energies. Still, Tao persisted. Drop by drop, he pulled the faint glow of Mortal Blood together, shaping it through his will.
His goal was simple yet dangerous: to merge the Mortal Blood with the Five Energies in one area, forming a single strong alliance capable of purifying the black essence that had long haunted his body. He knew he could not destroy it completely—not yet—but if he could confine it, he might one day suppress or seal it entirely.
The hours passed quietly. The light around Luo Peak shifted from morning gold to evening amber, but Tao didn't move even once. His breathing slowed until it matched the faint throb of his heart.
By the time the sun began to set, he had gathered nearly forty percent of his Mortal Blood into the right side of his heart. The rest—about sixty percent—remained scattered throughout his body, beyond his control for now. It was progress, but far from enough.
Yet as the pure blood gathered, the reaction it caused was immediate. The Black Blood Region stirred violently, as though aware of his efforts. Its essence roiled like a storm, surging through his veins, pushing against the edges of its confinement. It wasn't just power—it was will, dark and defiant, resisting every attempt to weaken it.
Tao's brow furrowed, sweat beading along his temple. He could feel the black blood moving as if it were alive, rejecting his command, trying to invade the other regions. The difference between them was absolute—the black essence wanted domination, not coexistence.
Still, Tao held firm. His muscles tensed, his breathing deepened, and his heartbeat steadied again. He had endured the thunder of heaven; he would not yield to his own blood.
When the night finally deepened and the stars appeared over Luo Peak, Tao opened his eyes slowly. A faint sheen of exhaustion dulled his gaze, but his expression was calm. Forty percent… not enough, but it will have to do for now, he thought.
He rose, his steps unsteady but controlled, and walked down toward the training grounds.
The next morning, the open field below Luo Peak buzzed with energy. The other young disciples were already assembled, their laughter echoing across the valley. When Tao arrived with Luo Tang, several of them turned at once.
"Brother Tao! You're really fine?" one called out.
"The lightning didn't leave you crippled?" said another with nervous awe.
Tao gave a small nod. "Still standing," he replied simply. "The heavens can strike, but I can still move."
Their tension broke into relieved laughter, and soon everyone returned to practice.
Now that most of them had broken through to the Foundation Establishment stage, the training had shifted. Their bodies could now endure physical combat and internal energy circulation simultaneously. Under the elders' guidance, they began practicing structured martial disciplines—stances, strikes, and breathing forms inspired by ancient arts like kung fu and karate, meant to sharpen control and strengthen reflexes.
Elder Tong Chen stood nearby, watching over the group. His gaze settled on Tao—the only one still yet to step into the foundation realm. But there was no disappointment in his eyes, only quiet respect.
He approached and spoke in a calm, low voice. "Tao, you've walked through thunder and lived. Are you truly ready to challenge the heavens again?"
Tao nodded once. "Elder Chen, my body may not yet be calm, but waiting won't change anything.."
The elder's eyes deepened with understanding. After a moment of silence, he nodded. "Very well. If your resolve is steady, I will not stop you."
He gestured toward the high terrace overlooking the training ground—a platform. The others stepped back, watching in silence as Tao walked to the center.
The air there felt different—charged, sharp, and alive, as if the mountain itself remembered his last encounter with heaven's fury.
Tao sat cross-legged and closed his eyes once more. His hands rested on his knees, and his breath slowed until the world around him stilled.
Tao focused on his blood energy, his mind turning inward as he began concentrating on the black energies flowing within him. He knew the risk—if he released more than his body could handle, the thunder's power would tear through him, leaving him crippled or even dead. So he pondered deeply, searching for a way to release this energy in a balanced, controlled manner.
For half a day, he thought in silence, calculating every possibility. At last, he decided on a path. Now, he turned his full focus toward the black essence hidden within his blood—its exact source still unknown to him. He began circulating his blood energy through his entire body, carefully ensuring that it would not conflict with the five elemental essences or his mortal blood.
Within the black regions of his mortal blood, he gathered energy slowly, guiding it with precision. As the process continued, the pressure on his body grew immense. His internal struggle reached its peak—pain surged through every vein as he forced the corrupted essence to flow in harmony with his natural energy. The black blood resisted his will, surging violently, yet through sheer focus and the stabilizing presence of his mortal blood, he managed to mold it, taming its wild rhythm.
As he persisted, he began to sense subtle information about his own body—hidden pathways, weaknesses, and strengths revealed themselves to him. Days passed in this arduous cycle of refinement and control. Gradually, the black blood began to stabilize, its chaotic pulses slowing into a steady current. His entire being changed, little by little.
The transformation affected his mortal blood as well—it thickened, strengthened, and grew denser, increasing to nearly seventy percent of its total essence. The once-unstable mixture of mortal and black energies now pulsed together in rhythm. The balance he had fought for so long was finally within reach.
Feeling the shift within, Tao opened his eyes. Lightning seemed to flash faintly in their depths. The blood within him roared like a storm restrained in silence. He knew the time had come.
He was ready to trigger the second Heavenly Thunder.