Flames devoured Azure Dragon City, consuming every brick, every soul, every last trace of home. The air warped under searing heat, thick with the stench of scorched earth and blood—a suffocating, inescapable torment.
War drums thundered.
Blades clashed, metal shrieking as they met.
Screams. Roars. The dying wept, the living howled.
A requiem of destruction echoed through the collapsing city.
House Jiao's warriors fought on, their bodies broken, their will unyielding.
Spearheads crackled with lightning, rending the shadows apart as the Azure Dragon's wrath surged through the battlefield. Bolts of pure electric fury danced through the ranks of the Legion of Dusk, splintering the earth, tearing through abyssal flesh.
But the darkness was endless.
Banners lay in ruin.
The courtyard drowned in flame.
Fallen warriors became ash, their bodies crumbling like brittle leaves in a storm.
They were dying.
And I was running.
The guards held me fast, their grips like iron shackles.
They dragged me toward the escape passage, their faces set in grim determination.
"Let me go!"
I struggled, my voice hoarse with rage, my throat raw.
My chest burned—not from exhaustion, but from the inferno rising inside me.
The captain's cold, unwavering gaze locked onto mine.
"Young Master, you cannot die here."
Cannot die? But they are dying!
I turned—my eyes searching through the smoke and ruin.
Beyond the flickering firelight, through the battlefield steeped in blood and death—
I saw him.
My father.
His spear still burned with lightning, the storm's fury caged within his grasp. Every strike shattered abyssal flesh, every movement a declaration of defiance.
His silver armor was stained crimson.
Flames surrounded him, consumed everything in their path—but still, he stood.
Unshaken. Unyielding.
A mountain against the storm.
He would not fall.
Could not fall.
But what about me?
A crushing weight bore down on my chest, my blood seething with fury.
I wrenched against the hands restraining me, nails digging into my palms—deep—until blood splattered against the stone floor.
The droplets rippled outward.
Small. Insignificant.
Just like me.
Rage.
Helplessness.
Despair.
They coiled around me like chains, tightening, choking the breath from my lungs.
Then—
A voice.
Deep. Ancient. Resounding from the marrow of my soul.
"You are of the Jiao bloodline. Today, your fate awakens."
BOOM.
The world froze.
My heart lurched—then thundered to life.
And then—
It shattered.
A storm of raw, unrelenting power erupted within me, roaring through my veins like a celestial tempest.
It burned. It tore. It broke me apart.
Thunder split the heavens.
Lightning howled through my veins.
The storm had awakened—
And the darkness trembled.
Awakening of Jiao – The Thunderborne Spear
It was not the pain of torn flesh—it was the searing agony of my soul being pierced by lightning itself.
My blood boiled, an ocean of thunder surging through my veins, a thousand bolts of lightning raging within me, crackling, devouring everything I was.
Bones trembled. Fractured. Reforged.
My muscles convulsed, bound by invisible arcs of electricity, each fiber reshaped beneath the wrath of the storm. Every nerve screamed, bathed in the baptism of thunder, my heart pounding—each beat shaking the very foundations of the world.
Then—darkness shattered.
My consciousness was hurled into an endless, boundless sky.
A vast expanse of floating stars stretched before me, shifting, colliding, creating and collapsing like the birth of a cosmos. The air was thick with ancient power, the radiance of primordial light illuminating the void.
And there, at the apex of the heavens, a dragon lay coiled.
A colossal Azure Dragon, its scales shimmering with the glow of distant stars, its golden eyes burning with stormfire as it gazed down upon me.
Lightning danced across its body, weaving between its mighty scales like celestial rivers of energy, while the constellations themselves spiraled around its form, as if it were the very heart of the cosmos.
Then, the dragon spoke.
"The Spear of Jiao—
—can only be wielded by my bloodline."
The voice of the storm itself.
A thunderous decree, shaking the very fabric of reality, its echoes reverberating through the vast sea of stars, sinking deep into my soul.
The dragon reared back, its eyes igniting with divine fury.
Then—
It roared.
A roar that shattered the heavens.
A billion bolts of lightning tore from the sky, an unstoppable cascade of thunder, a maelstrom of destruction descending from the celestial vault itself.
A storm rushed toward me, an avalanche of divine wrath, a flood of pure lightning crashing down from the heavens—
And I had no time to run.
BOOM.
The world exploded.
The real world trembled.
The hidden passage quaked under the force, stone walls collapsing into dust, the very air splintering under the surge of power.
Azure lightning erupted outward, shattering the darkness—
And I stood at its center.
The guards were thrown back, their eyes filled with awe and terror.
Electricity snaked around my arms, arcs of blazing blue energy coursing across my skin, forming a living storm upon my flesh. Scales of lightning crackled over my muscles, embedding themselves into my very being.
My blood sang with the roar of thunder.
The power of the stars had reforged me.
Slowly, I raised my hand.
At my fingertips, a single bolt of lightning crackled—pure, untamed power.
Then—it took form.
The lightning twisted, condensed, solidified—
A spear.
A spear of divine thunder, wreathed in azure lightning, its blade as sharp as a dragon's fang slicing through the sky.
The Spear of Jiao.
The captain of the guards gasped.
His voice, barely above a whisper—
"The Spear of Jiao… has awakened."
I opened my eyes.
Within them—lightning churned.
Flickers of electricity danced at the corners of my vision, reflecting a different version of myself.
The boy who had fled, the child dragged away by his guards, was gone.
That version of me had died.
In his place—stood a warrior.
A warrior reborn in thunder and fire.
I clenched my fist, my grip firm around the spear. The storm howled in answer.
I took a step forward, my voice steady, my words final—
A voice that rumbled like thunder rolling across the sky.
"I'm going back."
Thunder Spear Pierces the Night
The warriors of the Legion of Dusk marched forth, their iron-clad boots grinding the scorched earth beneath them
Their black armor gleamed in the firelight, grotesque reflections dancing across the charred ruins, making them seem like specters crawling out of the abyss itself.
They dragged their swords behind them, their blades wreathed in writhing tendrils of black mist, seething like serpents starved for blood.
A cold, corrosive aura spread through the battlefield, the very air crackling with decay.
Their eyes—
Abyssal blue.
Cold. Unfeeling. Bloodthirsty.
Their lips curled, twisted into something between a smirk and a snarl, their expressions filled with madness and certainty—
They had already foreseen my death.
"Starborn… die!"
A voice—hoarse, guttural, brimming with malice.
A sword fell like an executioner's blade.
Black energy erupted, cleaving through the night.
The air shuddered under its force, the corrosive darkness expanding, devouring everything in its wake—
The ground crumbled beneath it.
Ruins already drenched in fire turned to lifeless black ash.
The blade closed in. Death loomed near.
But I did not move back.
I lifted my spear, the arc of its edge barely shifting in the air.
Lightning crawled along the shaft, a pulse of raw power surging from my palm, racing up my spine, pouring into my limbs.
Wind whipped through the battlefield, electricity snapping in the air, the glow of storm-forged energy surging to life.
"Thunder Spear—Break!"
Lightning roared! A blinding azure arc split the battlefield, a celestial maelstrom of thunder crashing forward.
From the tip of my spear, a colossal dragon of pure lightning erupted, its scales flickering with celestial fire, its jaws open in a soundless roar—
And then it struck.
BOOM.
The world ignited.
Raw, unrelenting destruction tore through the ranks of the Legion of Dusk.
Their armor melted away like paper beneath the storm, their bodies consumed in a flash of blue-white lightning.
They never even had time to scream.
They disintegrated in the wake of the Azure Dragon's fury, their blades, their armor, their very existence reduced to charred remains that crumbled into the burning earth.
The battlefield fell into momentary silence.
The only sound left—the distant crackle of thunder still echoing in the air.
The guards stood frozen, their gazes locked on the storm's aftermath.
Lightning still danced in their pupils, flickering deep within their stunned expressions.
Awe. Fear. Reverence.
The captain swallowed, his voice barely above a whisper.
"The power of the Azure Dragon…"
I remained silent.
I simply tightened my grip on the spear, the last remnants of lightning dancing along its edge, illuminating my hardened expression.
The past no longer held me captive.
"I'm going to the battlefield."
Before anyone could respond—
I became lightning.
A blazing streak of azure tore through the darkness, splitting the night—
And I surged forward.
Thunder and Betrayal
Flames raged.
The scorching winds, thick with the stench of scorched earth and blood, howled through the shattered corridors.
Between the crumbling ruins, bodies lay strewn across the battlefield.
The warriors of the Legion of Dusk moved forward, their iron boots crushing the lifeless remains beneath them.
Their blackened armor dripped with fresh, warm blood.
Their blades, slick with the crimson of House Jiao's fallen warriors, still dripped onto the desecrated battlefield.
A silence hung over the ruins—not peace, but the quiet weight of death.
And at the heart of it all—
My father still fought.
His spear was a storm, lightning roaring with every strike, tearing through the darkness with the force of a hundred warriors.
But his steps—
They faltered.
His silver armor was cracked, his shoulder torn open, a deep wound bleeding freely, crimson pooling through the seams of his armor, staining the stone floor beneath him.
He stood alone amidst the flames.
Behind him—House Jiao lay in ruins.
And in front of him—
A figure stepped forward.
Familiar. Yet foreign.
His black robes billowed, his silver hair gleaming under the infernal glow, his eyes as cold and depthless as the Abyss.
A blackened sword hung at his side, its blade wreathed in writhing abyssal mist, seething like a rift that devoured all light.
A suffocating chill spread from him—an endless void, swallowing everything in its path.
He gazed down upon the carnage, his expression neither cruel nor regretful—only indifferent.
As if none of it mattered.
Calem.
My steps halted.
My heart clenched—as though an unseen hand had crushed it in its grip.
He had once been our family's greatest warrior.
My brother.
My idol.
Now, he stood among the enemy.
No—
He was their leader.
The Commander of the Legion of Dusk.
The darkness around him pulsed, a formless tide writhing at his feet.
Then, at last—
He turned.
His gaze locked onto mine—cold, unfeeling. Then, slowly, his lips curved into a smile. Not warmth, nor cruelty—just inevitability.
"So, you've finally made it here."
His voice was calm, steady, carrying none of the weight of the slaughter around him.
As if this moment—had always been inevitable.
Lightning crackled in my palm.
The Thunder Spear pulsed, energy coursing through its form, the azure glow of Jiao Starforce illuminating the scorched ruins.
I met his gaze—
Cold steel against the abyss.
Jiao Starforce had awakened.
And my fate—
was only beginning.