LUO FAN
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Guidao Island.
Standing on top of the new alchemy tower overlooking the ocean, I stared toward the horizon. The sun had just risen, painting the sky with colors. The morning breeze was gentle and cool. It was a beautiful day for meditation, and this spot was perfect.
During my absence, Ma Huan had taken the intitiative to build this tower as both his home and his laboratory. It wasn't much—just three levels of modest stonework, but to make up for the lack of elevation, he had chosen a good spot on top of a hill to get easier access to the surrounding qi.
From here, I could watch the sun rise over the ocean each morning. He told me he built it to refine pills and store herbs, but I knew the truth. He had no plans to leave. Without asking, he had made Guidao Island his home.
And how could I object? I had been gone for over a year. In that time, he had become the steward of the Storm Surge Temple, feeding the children, maintaining the grounds, rebuilding what he could. He had asked for nothing. Demanded nothing. Simply stayed and filled the silence I had left behind.
I owed him that much. He had proven himself. Not as a disciple, not as a cultivator, but as a man in need of refuge.
Taking a deep breath, I lowered myself to a lotus position.
My light core had been unstable since last night. If I didn't calm it soon, I risked losing balance again.
I closed my eyes, forcing my thoughts into stillness.
My breath slowed.
I reached inward, letting my awareness sink beneath the surface of skin and spirit. There it was—my light core, pulsing steadily, too bright. Too forceful. I could feel the tension in my meridians, the pressure building like steam in a sealed chamber. And beneath it, deeper still, my dark core stirred uneasily, resisting the surge like two rivers trying to flow through the same gorge.
Until something changed.
A sudden pressure filled the air. I felt it before I heard a crackling tension above me, like the sky itself had drawn a blade.
My eyes flew open.
A flash of silver split the heavens.
Thunder.
Not distant, not rumbling—but descending. Fast.
I staggered to my feet, heart hammering, as I looked up. Thunderclouds roiled overhead, swirling black and violent. I knew this. I had seen it once before—on Frost Mountain, the moment I first stepped into the grandmaster realm.
But this… this was different.
A tribulation did not come without warning. Not unless…
My eyes widened in disbelief.
No. This couldn't be my tribulation. My cores should have warned me. I should have felt the shift.
Unless… this wasn't a natural tribulation at all.
Perhaps it was a calamity.
I turned, bolting for the stairs, desperate to warn the others below. But I barely made two steps before the sky answered.
The first bolt struck.
Pain tore through my chest like a sword dipped in fire. My body convulsed, thrown backward by the force. The qi I had gathered shattered in an instant, scattering like broken glass.
Then silence.
I dropped to my knees, gasping. The wind howled around me. My fingers clawed the stone for balance. I looked up—and the sky had already turned black.
Clouds churned like a living beast, folding into themselves in a spiral of wrath. Lightning danced across the sky, forking violently, hungry for flesh. I tasted metal on my tongue.
It was coming again.
The second bolt hit me squarely in the chest. I screamed—though the sound was lost to the wind. The energy surged through my spiritual sea, boiling over in a flood of white-hot light. My light qi burst forth, unrestrained. Wild. Desperate.
And then my dark core reacted.
It clashed against the blaze of light, snarling through my veins like a beast in pain. The imbalance grew worse. Each core vying for dominance. Each refusing to yield.
This was no calamity.
This was a tribulation.
But only for one half of me.
A third bolt split the clouds.
The trial had begun.
A storm of judgment—uninvited, unrelenting.
A reckoning from the heavens. Each strike coming faster than the last.
I clenched my teeth, forcing what little control I had left into focus. Threads of golden light spun around me, ribbons of spiritual energy wrapping tight like armor. But they wavered. Unstable. Flickering beneath the strain.
I couldn't restore balance.
My light core had surged ahead, trying to ascend into the grandmaster realm. But my dark core lagged behind, its energy misaligned. The disparity twisted through my meridians, warping my qi flow and shattering the harmony I had spent months nurturing.
Then came the final bolt.
It tore down like a divine spear.
My body seized. My vision blurred. Every nerve screamed, raw and scorched from within.
And then… I fell.
I hit the roof tiles hard. My body rolled limply across the platform, dragging against the stone like a marionette with its strings cut. I collapsed near the edge of the tower, chest heaving in shallow, ragged breaths. My limbs refused to move. My qi was in chaos.
Somewhere through the ringing in my ears, I heard a voice cry out.
"Priest Luo!"
Ma Huan.
Boots thundered up the stone steps. A moment later, he dropped to his knees beside me, breathless. His eyes swept over my body, then shot upward to the sky where wisps of lightning still crackled above the tower.
"What happened here?" he asked, his voice low, stunned.
I tried to answer, but my throat was scorched. Every breath scraped like sandpaper down my chest.
Ma Huan eased me into a seated position, careful with my trembling limbs. He scanned my face, then the jagged scorch marks seared into the stone floor.
"Was that a tribulation?" he asked.
I nodded faintly.
He stared at me, disbelief flickering across his face. "You… ascended to grandmaster level?"
I shook my head weakly. It took everything I had to force out words. "It was incomplete. My dark core held me back."
Understanding dawned across his expression like a slap.
"So what does that make you?" he muttered. "Level six and a half? More than a master, less than a grandmaster?"
Before I could answer, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed behind him.
Elder Tao Liu appeared at the top of the stairs, panting, his robes fluttering behind him. His eyes widened at the scene—the blackened platform, the lingering scent of scorched qi, and Ma Huan crouched beside me.
"Did Sect Leader Luo just ascend?" he asked between gasps.
Ma Huan stood up and exhaled sharply. "Well… your sect leader is now a half-baked grandmaster," he said dryly. "Congratulations to the Storm Surge Sect."
Tao Liu's mouth fell open. "The ascension failed?"
I lowered my head.
I didn't have the strength to explain. In truth, I wasn't even certain I understood it myself. My light core had surged to the edge of breakthrough, hovering at the threshold of the grandmaster realm, but something had stopped it. It was as if a massive boulder had slammed into its path at the final moment, halting its ascent.
Was it my dark core?
I couldn't be sure.
All I knew was that my body felt hollow, scorched inside and out. My qi trembled like a wounded beast, uncertain and unsteady.