The two months leading up to the Clan Gathering had always been a period of preparation and quiet anticipation in the Rael household. For Raiden, however, it was anything but tranquil.
He sat cross-legged on a patch of soft grass, his platinum white hair cascading over his shoulders, eyes closed as he concentrated on the fluctuating power within him. Every day, he could feel his Chaos Root stirring, a force barely contained, yet misunderstood by those around him. His body was gradually adjusting to it, and with each breath, he could feel it—subtle yet undeniable.
But this newfound connection wasn't without its challenges.
Raiden wiped sweat from his brow, his dark, rosy skin glistening under the midday sun. He had been working hard to stabilize the energy within him, to tap into the depths of his potential without drawing unnecessary attention. His cultivation had advanced more in these past weeks than in years, but the lack of recognition gnawed at him. To the world, he was still a "good-for-nothing" with low-level spirit roots, hiding his Chaos Root beneath layers of insignificance.
It was for the best. For now.
Seren, his younger sister, was never far away during his training. She stood at a distance, practicing her own cultivation but keeping a watchful eye on him. Raiden appreciated her concern, but her presence only added to his burdens. Every time he looked at her, he saw the trust and admiration in her eyes—a trust that would shatter if she knew the full extent of what he was hiding.
He shook his head, dispelling those thoughts. There were other things to focus on. Chiefly, Torrin.
The tension between them had only grown over the past weeks. Torrin, with his deity-level fire spirit roots, was the star of the Rael family. His very presence demanded attention, and though Raiden had successfully kept a low profile, he knew the inevitable confrontation was drawing closer.
And then there was Lillia.
Despite Raiden's attempts to stay out of her path, they crossed it more often than he liked. She was, after all, the rising prodigy of her own clan, with her powerful saint-level ice and wind spirit roots. Her dark milk chocolate skin glowed under the light of her own cultivation energy, and her cold, piercing gaze never failed to linger on him with disdain. Lillia did not need to say much; her silence, punctuated by the occasional biting remark, said everything.
"You're still training, Raiden?" Lillia's voice broke through his concentration like a blade. She stood at the edge of the clearing, arms crossed, her posture casual but the disdain in her voice cutting deep. "Shouldn't you be preparing for the Clan Gathering instead? Though, I suppose it doesn't matter. You could train for years, and it wouldn't make a difference."
Raiden's jaw clenched, but he remained composed. This was Lillia's way—every interaction a reminder of his perceived inferiority. But it didn't sting as much as it used to. Not anymore.
"Maybe I just like wasting my time," Raiden replied coolly, not opening his eyes.
Lillia scoffed. "Clearly."
She turned on her heel, her hair—dark like the void of night—swaying as she walked away. But before she disappeared completely, she threw a final remark over her shoulder. "Just don't embarrass yourself too much at the Gathering. We all know Torrin's the real contender, but it would be a shame to see you fall too hard."
Raiden exhaled slowly, letting the tension bleed out of him. She was goading him, trying to get under his skin. But he couldn't afford to react, not now. Not with so much at stake.
Lillia's dismissive attitude wasn't new, but each encounter chipped away at something inside him. She was a symbol of everything the Rael family valued: power, prestige, and potential. And she had made it clear, time and again, that he was none of those things.
But she was wrong.
Later that evening…
Raiden found himself in the family hall, attending a gathering of the younger Rael generation. Elise, his mother, had insisted on his presence, despite his reluctance. It was one of those rare occasions where the family came together, their conversation a mix of strategy and boasts, most of which revolved around Torrin and his impending dominance at the Clan Gathering.
Raiden stood at the far edge of the hall, his arms folded as he observed the room. Torrin, naturally, was at the center, his laughter booming as he regaled the others with tales of his cultivation prowess. Lillia stood beside him, an icy presence that contrasted Torrin's fiery nature. They made an imposing pair—Torrin with his deity-level fire roots and Lillia with her saint-level ice roots. Together, they were the perfect image of power, the kind the Rael family prided itself on.
"I hear the Gathering will be different this year," Seren whispered beside Raiden, her voice soft. "There are rumors that new trials will be introduced."
Raiden nodded absently. He had heard the same rumors. The Clan Gathering was the ultimate test for young cultivators from the most powerful families, a proving ground where reputation could be made or destroyed. Torrin would be expected to dominate, of course, but Raiden had other plans.
He just needed to bide his time.
"You're thinking too much again," Seren teased, nudging him with her elbow. "Come on, relax a little. It's not like Torrin's going to pick a fight with you here."
Raiden smiled faintly. "No, not here. But soon."
As if on cue, Torrin's voice cut through the room. "Raiden!"
The hall fell silent as Torrin strode toward him, a smirk playing on his lips. "I've been wondering when you'd show up. Always hiding in the shadows, aren't you?"
Raiden straightened, meeting his half-brother's gaze with quiet resolve. "I'm not hiding."
Torrin chuckled, the sound low and dangerous. "We'll see about that at the Clan Gathering. I've heard you've been training… but we all know it won't make a difference. You're still the weak link in this family, no matter how hard you try."
The words stung, but Raiden remained calm. He had grown used to Torrin's taunts, though he couldn't deny the slow burn of anger rising within him.
Lillia watched the exchange from the sidelines, her expression unreadable. Raiden could feel her gaze on him, cold and judging as always.
"Don't worry, Torrin," Raiden said, his voice even. "I wouldn't want to disappoint you by being too easy a target."
A murmur of surprise rippled through the room at Raiden's boldness, but Torrin merely laughed. "We'll see. Just don't get in my way when I take the spotlight."
With that, Torrin turned, leaving Raiden standing amidst the stares of their peers. Seren tugged on his sleeve, her worry evident in her eyes.
"You shouldn't provoke him," she whispered. "He'll make things difficult for you."
Raiden exhaled. "He already has."
In the days that followed, the pressure mounted as the Clan Gathering approached. Raiden trained harder than ever, pushing himself to the limit. His control over his Chaos Root had improved, but it was still volatile, a force of untamed power that could easily spiral out of control if he wasn't careful.
Lillia remained a constant presence, though her interactions with him were few and far between. Every glance she threw his way felt like a test, a reminder of the gap between them. Raiden didn't mind. Let her despise him, let Torrin underestimate him.
He had no intention of playing their game.
Not yet.