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*Chapter 7: The Silent Thunder Valley*
The next morning, the sun rose pale behind the veil of fog that hung over the sect grounds. Lin Xian stood at the edge of the valley where he was instructed to undergo his next trial. It was called *Silent Thunder Valley*—a place where sound died and lightning spoke.
Elder Qingshan's voice echoed in his mind: *"Only those who can hear silence and see the unseen shall pass."*
Xian took his first step into the valley. Instantly, all sound was swallowed. His own heartbeat, breath, even the wind—vanished. Only the eerie glow of charged clouds and flickering arcs of lightning remained.
As he walked deeper, thunderbolts would strike randomly, some inches from him, some too close. But no sound followed. Just blinding light and the heavy pressure of spiritual energy.
In the silence, Xian felt something else—*whispers without voices*, emotions brushing his soul.
Suddenly, a phantom struck from the side, made entirely of lightning. He rolled, unsheathing his sword, and channeled his inner qi. The energy was sluggish—suppressed by the valley.
*"Control your breath, feel the pulse of the storm,"* a memory whispered—his mother's voice, faint and fading.
He let go of resistance. Instead of channeling his qi forcefully, he let it flow like water, like a storm.
The next lightning strike, he didn't dodge.
He embraced it.
It surged through him, burning, but not destroying. His meridians cried out, but his will held firm. And then… silence broke. The thunder finally came—but it sang.
*BOOOOOM.*
The world blurred as he stood, cloaked in arcs of blue lightning. His body steaming, eyes glowing faintly. He had passed the test.
Outside the valley, Elder Qingshan nodded from afar. "The boy listens."