A week later, Merlin stood before the gates of the Inner Court, his heart a mix of pride and determination. The sect elders had called a formal gathering, a rare event that signaled the induction of a new member into the esteemed ranks of the Inner Court. For Merlin, this was no ordinary promotion—it was a momentous occasion.
Unlike the others who had undergone trial periods before him, Merlin's induction was unprecedented. He was the only person in the sect's history to enter the Inner Court while still a 2nd Circle Novice, a feat that spoke not only to his potential but also to his relentless effort and the trials he had endured over the past six months.
The Inner Court's grand hall was adorned with intricate carvings that depicted the history of the sect and the achievements of its greatest members. The room was filled with Inner Court disciples, all gathered to witness Merlin's induction.
Elder Fergus stood at the forefront, his booming voice carrying over the murmurs of the crowd. "Today, we welcome a new disciple into the Inner Court. Merlin, step forward."
Merlin walked to the center of the hall, his steps steady despite the weight of so many eyes on him.
Elder Magnus followed, his tone more measured but no less impactful. "This young man has accomplished what few thought possible. He has proven himself worthy not through raw power but through his ingenuity, tenacity, and the strength of his character. Let this serve as a reminder that potential can shine even in the unlikeliest of places."
Elder Korra, standing tall beside the other elders, gave Merlin a small, approving nod.
As the ceremony concluded, Merlin received his Inner Court robe, a deep Red garment with silver embroidery that symbolized his Lightning Element. When he donned it, the crowd erupted into applause, though Merlin couldn't help but notice the mixed reactions.
Some disciples looked at him with admiration, others with curiosity, and a few with barely concealed skepticism. After all, he was still a 2nd Circle Novice, and many wondered how long he would last among the more powerful 3rd Circle Adepts and beyond.
Later, as Merlin stood in the courtyard of his new quarters, the reality of his achievement began to sink in. He had crossed a major threshold, but the path ahead was far more treacherous. The expectations on him were immense—he was no longer an underdog in the Outer Court. Here, he would be scrutinized at every turn, and his every success or failure would echo throughout the sect.
Merlin clenched his fists. "I've made it this far," he muttered to himself, the fire of determination lighting in his eyes. "Now, it's time to prove that I belong here."
Though his journey in the Inner Court had just begun, Merlin knew one thing for certain—he wouldn't just survive; he would thrive, no matter the challenges that awaited him.
******
Life in the Inner Court might not have been drastically different in routine, but the expectations placed on its disciples were significantly higher. Inner Court disciples were no longer mere students; they were considered capable practitioners of their craft. The missions they undertook were more than just tests—they were contributions to the sect, vital to its influence and prosperity.
For Merlin, the shift in expectations was both a challenge and an opportunity. Missions varied widely in nature: protecting caravans, retrieving rare materials, hunting rogue cultivators, or dealing with rogue magical beasts that threatened nearby villages. These tasks required a blend of skill, ingenuity, and resilience—qualities Merlin had spent years cultivating.
While some missions were straightforward, others demanded teamwork with fellow disciples, testing not just individual skill but the ability to cooperate and strategize under pressure.
Two months after his induction, Merlin reached a pivotal milestone. During a particularly intense meditation and training session, his mana and physical cultivation methods synchronized perfectly. The Rolling Thunder Cultivation Method and the 8 Blades Body Art complemented each other in ways even Myrddin's memories hadn't fully prepared him for.
As his mana surged and his muscles hardened, his breakthrough was accompanied by an unmistakable sound: thunder echoing through his courtyard as if the heavens themselves acknowledged his progress. His movements, honed through months of rigorous training, now carried the speed and precision of lightning.
When the breakthrough was complete, Merlin stood in silence, feeling the equilibrium within himself. His mana flowed effortlessly through his pathways, no longer hindered by the clogs and imperfections of his earlier cultivation. His body, enhanced by the Muscle Realm, radiated strength and agility.
During his body cultivation exercises, each movement resonated with the sound of thunder. Strikes, steps, and even the simplest gestures seemed to ripple with latent power. The 8 Blades Body Art, a method that emphasized fluid yet explosive movements, reached new heights in Merlin's hands.
Where others saw a young man who had only just stepped into the Inner Court, those who trained alongside him now recognized his growing prowess. Some envied him, others feared him, but none could deny his rapid ascent.
Despite his newfound strength, Merlin understood that this was only the beginning. His breakthroughs had attracted attention, and with it came expectations—not just from the elders but also from his peers. His every move was now under scrutiny.
Merlin embraced the pressure, for it fueled his determination. With his body and mana finally in harmony, he felt ready to take on the missions and challenges that would further prove his worth—not just to the sect, but to himself.
"Thunder and lightning," he murmured to himself one evening after training, his voice steady and resolute. "If I am to become a storm, then let them hear it coming."