"But there's one thing I still don't understand…" Blob said quietly, almost to himself, his tone reflective.
Max glanced at him. "What?"
Blob didn't answer imdiately. His eyes were fixed on the towering colossus in the sky, brows furrowed, as if trying to solve a puzzle that made no sense.
"Even when soone below the Legend Rank triggers the Wrath of the World," Blob began slowly, "they simply die. Instantly. Their fate, destiny, and luck aren't strong enough to take form—let alone descend and defend them."
He turned to Max, his voice solemn. "Only those who've reached the peak—true experts breaking into Legend Rank—possess fate powerful enough to intervene. In those rare cases, their Manifestation might appear to shield them. But you…"
Blob paused, eyes narrowing at Max.
"…you're still in the Adept Rank. Pitifully low, compared to those who've faced this before. And yet, sohow… your fate has descended—a full-fledged Manifestation—to protect you from the judgnt of the world."
Max fell silent, his mind whirring.
He turned his gaze skyward, back to the statue that stood as his fate, his destiny, his luck made real.
Why?
He thought over Blob's words, letting them sink in. Then, a quiet question left his lips.
"…Does that an I'm just really lucky?"
Blob shook his head imdiately. "No. That's not it. Even if you were insanely lucky—blessed by the gods themselves—fate doesn't intervene like this. Not for luck alone. Not even when soone triggers the wrath of the world."
"Then what is it?" Max asked, a faint edge of frustration in his voice.
"I don't know," Blob admitted with a sigh. "Honestly… everything happening to you right now is sothing I've never seen before. Never heard of. You're rewriting rules I thought were unbreakable."
Max nodded slowly, the weight of that truth sinking into his chest. He didn't know whether to feel proud… or terrified.
RUMBLE!
Another bolt tore down from the swirling clouds above.
This ti it was indigo, its brilliance blinding.
It slamd into the head of the colossal Manifestation with a thunderous crack, the impact so massive it sent shockwaves through the very air. The ground beneath them groaned. The Mourning Depths shook violently, dust and energy scattering in all directions.
Max braced himself, shielding his eyes as the force rattled his bones.
"Damn…" he muttered. "How many of these lightning bolts are left?"
Beside him, Blob didn't flinch. His eyes stayed locked on the storm above.
"That's the Seven Lightnings of Judgnt," he said quietly. "It won't stop until seven bolts have struck your Manifestation."
Max's jaw clenched. His gaze drifted back to the towering statue—the one taking the punishnt that should have been his.
He imagined what would've happened if it hadn't appeared.
Seven divine bolts.
Each one capable of ending lives in an instant.
He swallowed hard.
If not for that Manifestation… he would have been vaporized before he could even scream.
And sowhere deep inside, Max realized sothing terrifying.
This wasn't just fate.
It was sothing more.
Deep within the twisted, shadow-choked heart of the Mourning Depths, a heavy silence settled over the gathered leaders of the Valora Continent. They stared up at the roiling black clouds hovering above the towering Manifestation—unnatural clouds that had appeared without warning, now crackling with rainbow lightning. Two bolts had already descended from the heavens, each one a divine judgnt, shaking the depths to their very core.
King Magnar's face was grave, his jaw tight, golden brows furrowed with a weight that only those who had lived long enough to fear the impossible could wear.
This was beyond anything they had seen before.
But not beyond what they had heard.
"…Wrath of the World," he muttered, barely above a whisper.
Yet every individual around him—each one an Expert Rank cultivator—heard him clearly. And the mont those four words echoed through the air, expressions darkened. Faces turned pale.
Even though the Lower Domain was sealed off from higher power paths—preventing any from rising beyond the Expert Rank—that didn't an its inhabitants were completely ignorant. Tales had traveled. Whispers had endured. And one such tale, more myth than fact, was known by every seasoned warrior:
The Wrath of the World.
A cosmic punishnt said to be older than the continents themselves.
"According to legend," King Magnar continued, voice low but audible, "the Wrath of the World is triggered when soone dares to defy the fundantal laws of existence… or when a terrifying expert in the Middle Domain attempts to ascend to a higher plane of power."
He paused. His throat bobbed.
"Then cos the Seven Lightnings of Judgnt—to erase them. To purge them from existence."
A tense silence followed his words. Even he, a king seasoned by war and storms, could scarcely believe what he was witnessing. He had heard of it in ancient scrolls and secret records—but never in his life had he dread he'd see it.
"…Did Max really summon the Wrath of the World?" Envoy Lucas asked suddenly, eyes narrowed, his voice unreadable. The flicker in his gaze betrayed thoughts too fast to catch, sches already churning.
"I don't know if it's Max specifically," said Palace Master Hugh, his tone weighty with grim certainty, "but what we're seeing… this is without a doubt the real thing. The Wrath. I've witnessed it once, years ago, when I was in the Middle Domain. An expert attempted to break through to a Mythic Rank… and this happened."
He gestured toward the sky where lightning curled ominously in the clouds.
The sa pattern. The sa suffocating pressure. The sa inevitable judgnt.
"What could Max have possibly done to trigger sothing like this?" asked Kate, her voice calm, but tinged with curiosity. She'd remained quiet until now, but even she couldn't ignore the storm overhead. Her eyes shifted to Aurelia, who stood beside her.
Aurelia's face had darkened the mont the Manifestation appeared.
And it hadn't changed since.
'She knows sothing,' Kate thought. More than she's saying.
But before she could press the matter—
User Comments
0 comments from readers