Chapter 64: The Lightning Net
Kyle took a step forward, and it felt like entering another world.
The expected impact didn't come immediately. Instead, a strange humming filled his ears, like the beating of ten thousand hummingbird wings.
Then, the rain of sparks ceased to be a metaphor. It became a deluge of liquid light, pouring down and swallowing him whole.
Zzzzt—CRACKLE!
Blinding white light filled his vision. The berserk energy slammed into his Ken.
Kyle's heart jumped. His Ken, usually an impenetrable fortress, acted more like a sieve against this pure energy. Countless tiny silver snakes slipped through his Aura defense, wrapping around his limbs and burrowing deep into his bones.
A violent, numbing sensation shot from his skin to his marrow. He trembled uncontrollably. Every muscle fiber felt like it was being pierced and massaged by thousands of needles—a mix of pain and strange relief.
But Kyle's senses were sharp. He realized this wasn't destruction.
Once the current passed through his Ken, its violent nature seemed miraculously "tamed." The power dropped, but it retained a vibrant, active energy signature.
As it flowed through him, his cells seemed to wake from a long slumber, greedily absorbing the energy.
The destructive lightning had become... nutrients.
Though the paralysis made his movements sluggish, the "electro-therapy" was working wonders. Kyle could clearly feel his muscle density increasing, his hidden strength humming like a plucked string, growing stronger by the second.
The sensation was so addictive he almost forgot where he was, losing himself in the refinement process. He hadn't felt this kind of pure physical growth in a long time.
Meanwhile, Raika and his group had already cleared the Rain-Spark Flow.
When they looked back, they saw Kyle being swallowed by the storm.
"He... he actually went in?" one subordinate gasped.
Raika's surprise quickly turned into a dark, malicious glare. He stared at the spot, expecting to see Kyle screaming, convulsing, and turning into charcoal at any second.
No outsider could survive the lightning without tempering. He was sure of it.
Time passed.
The figure in the storm was staggering, but stable.
He was moving slowly. Painfully slowly. It took him three full minutes just to cross thirty meters!
And instead of speeding up to escape, he seemed to be getting slower. He didn't look like he was fighting for his life; he looked like he was taking a stroll in his garden. Was he... enjoying it?
Raika frowned, impatience and irritation spreading like wildfire in his gut.
What is he doing? Waiting to die? Or...
"Boss... he looks like he's... liking it?" another subordinate whispered, his voice weird.
"Shut up!" Raika snapped, his face ugly.
He couldn't understand it, and he couldn't accept it.
But more importantly, time was wasting.
His father had said the storm cycle was strict. If the outer barrier closed while they were still inside, they would all die without a grave.
He glanced at his anxious brothers, then glared one last time at the slow-moving figure in the lightning. "Let's go!" he hissed through gritted teeth.
He couldn't waste precious time on a dead man walking.
Inside the zone, Kyle, though mostly focused on his body, kept a thread of awareness on the outside world.
Sensing Raika leaving, his desire to "soak a little longer" vanished. The target was moving; he couldn't stay.
With only two meters left, Kyle took a deep breath. His Aura, now hyper-active from the lightning tempering, exploded.
He stopped walking. He kicked off the ground and shot forward like an arrow.
WHOOSH—
He cleared the edge of the storm and landed safely.
Residual arcs of electricity danced on his fingertips and hair, popping like tiny firecrackers.
A surge of power, far greater than before, flowed through him. Kyle clenched his fist, his knuckles cracking. A delighted smile spread across his face.
"Not bad at all," he murmured. Locking onto Raika's trail, he blurred into motion and chased after them.
Five hundred meters flashed by in an instant.
When Kyle caught up, the second trial was already blocking their path.
It wasn't a rain of sparks this time. It was a massive, shifting web made of pure lightning—a Lightning Net.
The net crisscrossed the path ahead. The holes in the mesh expanded and contracted, flickering, moving, merging, and separating with zero pattern.
The lines of the net were made of blinding white light, radiating a heat and destructive power that made the scalp tingle. The air around it warped, humming with a low, threatening growl.
To pass, one needed extreme speed, judgment, and insight to find the fleeting safe paths through the chaotic maze.
One wrong step, one touch of a single thread, and the entire net would snap shut, consuming the intruder.
However, Raika and his men didn't show fear. Their eyes burned with a mix of awe and excitement.
They were born in thunder. In their legends, lightning was punishment, but also baptism—a destiny carved into their blood.
Raika stared at the shifting net, his body coiled, muscles tense, eyes sharp as a hawk's.
He scanned the patterns, his brain calculating furiously.
Now!
He kicked off, launching himself like a literal bolt of lightning!
His movements had a wild, primal rhythm. He weaved, jumped, ducked, and sprinted through the dense net.
Massive electric webs grazed his nose, swept under his legs, or snapped shut inches behind his heels, exploding in sparks.
Every move was on a razor's edge.
He moved fluidly, as if he had practiced this a thousand times, dancing on the edge of death.
His subordinates watched with reverence. The First Prince was showing them the path, increasing their survival chances by at least 30%.
Raika cleared the net! He landed steadily on the other side, chest heaving slightly, sweat on his brow, but his eyes were bright.
Inspired, his men took deep breaths. One by one, they timed their runs, mimicking Raika's path, charging into the web of death.