Just as the crowd was still reeling from the sheer spectacle of Max’s battle against the second Wraith of the World—his relentless army of black flaming dragons tearing down nine majestic fla behemoths—the heavens growled again.
A deep, resonating rumble rolled across the land, low and heavy, like the ominous heartbeat of so colossal beast lurking above. Every gaze instinctively turned skyward, and what they saw made their breath catch in their throats.
The thick storm clouds, which should have scattered after the wraith’s defeat, instead churned with renewed fury, boiling and twisting as though sothing even greater was being born within.
Then—
CRACKLE!
The world lit up for an instant. From deep within the black mass, streaks of vivid purple lightning slithered like serpents beneath the veil, their movents sinuous, alive, and impossibly fast. Each flash illuminated the sky in an otherworldly glow, bathing the land in an eerie violet hue.
The arcs hissed and writhed, splitting the darkness as if seeking sothing to destroy. A suffocating weight pressed down on the onlookers’ chests, the kind of primal pressure that could crush even seasoned experts into the ground. It was a sight and feeling that made even the most battle-hardened veterans shiver—a silent promise that the next trial would be far deadlier than the last.
Gasps and murmurs erupted from the crowd the mont the sky roared again, the sound echoing like the growl of so colossal beast.
"What?! No way... the clouds are still here?!" one man shouted, his voice trembling as his eyes darted upward.
"This... this doesn’t make sense," another expert stamred, clutching his robes tightly. "He’s already gone through two Wraiths of the World. How can there still be more?"
"Look! The clouds... they’re darker than before... and those lightning bolts..." a young woman pointed upward, her hand shaking.
"Purple lightning... that’s the mark of an elental wraith. I read once in an old scroll—it’s the most violent form of lightning in existence!" an elderly expert said in horror, his face paling.
"This is insane," soone else muttered under their breath. "The first wraith was already beyond belief... the second was deadly enough to slay a Mythic Rank... and now there’s a third?!"
"Is the world trying to kill him?" a younger disciple asked, her voice breaking. "How can anyone survive three back-to-back Wraiths of the World?"
"No... this is more than just the world trying to kill him," an older man said grimly, his gaze locked on Max. "It’s as if the heavens themselves are testing if he’s worthy to live."
Up above, the sky churned like a living thing, deep purple lightning slithering and cracking through the storm clouds like monstrous serpents ready to strike, each flash painting the world below in a nacing glow.
The crowd could feel it—the raw, suffocating pressure—the kind that could turn mountains to dust and oceans to steam. And yet, all eyes were on Max, standing there beneath it all, facing the heavens as if daring them to send whatever they had left.
Thunder Lord’s face twisted in disbelief as another deep rumble tore through the heavens, the violent arcs of purple lightning growing ever more nacing above. "Are you kidding ? Another one?" he burst out, his voice louder than intended, unable to contain the shock hamring his chest.
"First it was sword... then flas... and now lightning? Lightning?!" His tone was almost a shout, half outrage and half awe. "I can’t believe there’s truly soone in this world who can comprehend three laws to such a high level. This is madness."
The tiger-masked man, who had stood calm and unshaken even through Max’s previous feats, narrowed his eyes, his gaze fixed sharply on the storm above. For the first ti since his arrival, his voice carried a note of genuine weight.
"Concept of Lightning," he said slowly, each word deliberate, as if testing the air. "And from the looks of it... he has pushed it to the 2nd level." His frown deepened, the mask hiding his expression but not the gravity in his tone.
"Three concepts... all of them at the 2nd level..." He paused, the air between words almost vibrating with the implication. "With this, I can say without hesitation—Max is enough to be called the third genius of the Star Grade."
Emperor Hers’s eyes widened slightly, his normally composed deanor cracking for a brief mont. "Third... genius..." he murmured, the words tasting like both pride and unease.
President William gave a slow, satisfied smile, though even he could not fully mask the astonishnt in his eyes. "Looks like the Middle Domain hasn’t seen anything yet," he said softly, almost to himself.
Palace Master Howard of the Absolute Sword Palace exhaled long and slow, shaking his head. "Sword, flas, lightning... and each at such mastery. This boy... no, this monster... is simply showing us what it ans to be true genius."
anwhile, the old man with the long white beard, leader of the Bright Buddha Palace, simply closed his eyes and joined his hands together, murmuring a faint prayer. Nobody knew whom the prayer was ant for.
Max’s gaze locked onto the roiling black clouds above, each one pulsing with veins of deep purple lightning that writhed like furious serpents through the storm. A faint sigh of relief escaped his lips. "At least it’s not the Seven Colored Lightning this ti," he murmured to himself, the mory clawing at his mind like an old scar. His voice was low, almost drowned by the distant rumble, but the weight in his tone was unmistakable.
"It’s strange... awakening a physique given to by the system, and yet the wraith of the world responded with the Seven Lightnings of Judgnt to destroy ..." His eyes narrowed, a faint shiver passing through him as the image replayed in his mind—the sky splitting into seven radiant, rciless dragons that promised nothing but obliteration.
The scene was burned into his mory, a nightmare etched in lightning. "If my fate hadn’t manifested that day to shield ..." he whispered, his jaw tightening, "...I would have been erased. Not just killed—erased."
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