Heavenly Demon Reign

It had been some time since Lan Wu's recovery from his near-fatal encounter with the Three-Headed Thunderhand Tiger. The quiet of the outer sect had returned, and so had his days of training.

Presently, Lan Wu sat alone beneath a willow tree, legs crossed, fingers lightly pressed together, attempting to channel his spiritual sense—that ephemeral awareness cultivators honed to sense danger, track movement, and interact with the world beyond the physical.

He failed again.

His brows tightened, sweat lining his face.

"Too noisy… My thoughts are too loud…"

He tried again—breathing deeply, focusing on the flow of Qi from his Dantian, into his channels, then extending outward...

Snap!

A twig cracked. He flinched.

And the sense vanished.

Just then, a robed elder descended beside him.

"Lan Wu. The Grand Elder requests your presence."

Lan Wu blinked, his concentration breaking fully. "Me? Why?"

The elder simply gestured. "She awaits."

The walk through the Sect's inner sanctum was quiet, yet Lan Wu's heart pounded like thunder. Each step felt weighted with questions.

Had he done something wrong? Was he being punished? Or... rewarded?

He approached the Grand Elder's chamber, a towering hall carved into pale mountain stone. Azure spiritual fire floated in twin sconces. A circular talisman burned gently beneath the entryway.

He bowed.

"Disciple Lan Wu greets the Grand Elder."

Within the chamber, she sat like a still painting, her back straight, long silver hair cascading over robes of pale blue and indigo. Her beauty was timeless—divine, some whispered. Her eyes, closed in meditation, opened slowly as he entered.

Lan Wu's face flushed crimson. He quickly lowered his gaze.

The Grand Elder smiled slightly.

"You stare too long."

Lan Wu stammered, panicking. "F-Forgive me! I did not mean to—!"

"It's fine. Sit."

He did so, settling into a lotus position, posture perfect as he was taught.

"Do you know why I called you here?"

Lan Wu shook his head. "No, Grand Elder. If it is about my failure to keep the Tiger from escaping—"

"No," she interrupted, her voice soft but clear. "You did more than expected. I've watched you. Even when others have passed you by, you remained persistent. Quiet. Focused. Never once did you speak ill of your limits."

Lan Wu swallowed, unsure of what to say.

The Grand Elder's gaze deepened, her eyes shimmering faintly with hidden light.

"Eight months from now, the Sect Gathering of Righteous Stars will be held. Every righteous sect within this eastern region will arrive. Disciples will battle, show their talents, and seek to raise their sect's prestige. The top ten will be granted entrance into a realm few can touch..."

She raised her hand.

The air shimmered. Golden flame danced in her palm, forming the image of a massive stone gate wreathed in ethereal mist.

"...The Celestial Reliquary of Nine Voids."

Lan Wu's eyes widened.

"A mystic ruin, filled with ancient treasures, pill flames, scriptures, and spirit weapons. Each sect sends only those they believe worthy."

The flame vanished.

She waved her hand—and four scrolls appeared before him, hovering gently in the air, glowing with faint, restrained power.

"These are techniques reserved for inner disciples. Some never learn them at all. Yet, I am giving them to you."

Lan Wu's head snapped up. "M-Me?! But I— I don't deserve this! There are so many others—stronger, smarter, more advanced—"

"I am not offering them. I am giving them. That is my decision."

She gestured, and the scrolls unfurled:

1. Skywind Blade Form – a high-speed wind affinity sword style built around velocity, spiral slashes, and Qi resonance.

2. Breath of the Virtuous Path – a cultivation method that balances morality with Qi flow, calming the heart and strengthening resolve.

3. Cloud Piercer Steps – a step technique inspired by flying sword cultivators, granting speed, subtlety, and precision.

4. Core Meridian Opening Art – a forbidden-level refinement method meant to unlock dormant Qi channels and deepen meridian flow.

Lan Wu's mouth fell open. His hands trembled.

The Grand Elder stood, moving gracefully toward him. Her presence was like the calm before a storm—beautiful, terrifying, and absolute.

She placed a hand upon his chest.

A soft hum.

A pulse.

"You will rise from First Awakening. You will refine your core. You will open your dormant meridians."

Lan Wu swallowed hard, his voice trembling.

"Grand Elder... I… thank you. But I don't understand. Why me?"

She turned away, walking toward her wide, stone-carved balcony that overlooked the entire Azure Sky Cloud Sect. Mountains stretched endlessly before her. She clasped her hands behind her back.

"That... I do not yet know."

Her voice grew distant, as if speaking more to the wind than to him.

"But I have lived long. I have watched hundreds rise and fall. You—Lan Wu—you have no arrogance. No ambition for glory. And yet, you burn brighter than most."

She paused, eyes fixed on the clouds drifting beneath the sun.

"I have chosen to gamble. On the boy with no past. The boy who bows too deeply... and smiles too kindly."

Behind her, Lan Wu bowed again, clutching the scrolls to his chest.

"I will not let you down."

As he left her chamber, the Grand Elder stood quietly upon her balcony, still watching the world below.

The winds were soft.

Her silver hair fluttered gently.

"Lan Wu…" she whispered. "May the heavens bless me for placing faith in you. Or curse me for not seeing the storm you carry."

The sky above the Azure Sky Cloud Sect was clear that morning, pale blue with soft wisps of drifting cloud. The mountain winds were gentle, brushing against the robes of a young disciple who stood alone upon a cliff plateau, breath steady, eyes clear.

Lan Wu.

His eyes gleamed with quiet determination. His robes were stained with sweat, sleeves rolled back, fingers cracked and raw from repeated strikes and falls. Still, he stood tall.

Across from him, arms folded, was Mei Lian.

The Ice Orchid of the Azure Sky Cloud Sect. Cold to most. Untouchable to nearly all.

But right now?

She looked down at him with furrowed brows. Not out of anger.

Out of concern.

"Again," she said.

Lan Wu bowed his head and moved.

His feet struck the formation circle. A seal lit beneath him, forcing Qi flow into his lower body. The Core Meridian Opening Art was not a mere technique—it was a ritual of bodily reformation, one that forced the cultivator's Qi to tear through dormant, untouched channels within their meridians and Dantian.

Each time he failed, pain followed.

But Lan Wu never stopped.

He collapsed.

He coughed blood.

He smiled.

"Again, Shifu…"

Mei Lian looked away.

The training regimen she devised was merciless:

Mornings began with bone-hardened strikes against boulders enchanted to reflect Qi backlash.

Midday, he would enter Qi formation circles that compressed his meridians, forcing him to find control in chaos.

Afternoons focused on Breath and Flow Alignment, using the Breath of the Virtuous Path to cycle Qi through the newly forming meridian paths.

Evenings were for stillness—sitting beneath the waterfall of Zephyr Cliff, letting the wind and water etch themselves into his flesh and mind.

Every step was pain.

Every session pushed him beyond the limits of First Awakening.

But Mei Lian never stopped. She couldn't.

"Your progress must be forged, not gifted."

She repeated those words every night to herself, as Lan Wu sat in meditation, body shivering from exhaustion, but eyes always smiling.

At night, she watched from the shadow of a pine tree as Lan Wu trained when he thought no one saw. He recited every step she taught him under his breath, his hands following the precise sequence of the Core Meridian Opening Art—flowing Qi from the center of the Dantian, up through the Dragon Pulse, then back down through the Heaven-Locked Channel.

"He never rests," Mei Lian thought. "Even when I order him to."

But how could she scold him?

He wasn't doing it for pride. Not even for recognition.

He was doing it to catch up.

To deserve the kindness he had been shown.

One night, as Lan Wu passed out during training, body slumped against a tree, Mei Lian approached and gently laid a robe over him.

She knelt beside him.

She pressed her fingers lightly to his wrist.

"Qi flow is stable…"

She looked at his face.

So peaceful. So tired. Yet still wearing a faint smile.

And in her heart, something cracked.

"Why do you do this to yourself?" she whispered. "You've already proven enough. You've already been accepted…"

But she knew the answer.

She had seen that look before.

Years ago, in someone she once loved. Someone who gave everything and never rested—until their body shattered beyond repair.

Mei Lian stood up, turning her face to the wind. Her expression was stoic once more.

But her voice was quiet.

"Please… Don't end up like him."