Chapter 134: The Corruption of Lightning

Chapter 135: The Corruption of Lightning

The foreign thought appeared uninvited in his mind, causing Jules to scowl.

Why do I want that thing so badly?

He couldn’t explain it. But the obsession clawing at his chest only grew heavier with every passing second.

Asher noticed Jules’s abnormal behavior instantly.

"Jules."

Jules blinked, tearing his gaze away from the pedestal. "What?"

"Stay away from that thing."

Jules’s expression darkened. "Why?"

"My sword is reacting to it." Asher pointed toward the hovering Myriad Forge.

The weapon was trembling violently in mid-air. A faint, restless golden aura bled across its steel surface, humming like a tuned instrument on the verge of snapping.

Jules stared at the sword, a deep, bitter irritation twisting his features. "Then perhaps your sword is simply afraid of what I’m about to gain."

Asher’s eyes narrowed into slits. "Don’t be stupid."

"Stupid?" Jules laughed harshly.

Sparks of silver lightning crackled viciously around his forearms. The power surging through his veins felt intoxicating—he had never felt this strong, this untouchable, in his entire life.

And somewhere deep inside the fog of his mind, a voice whispered again:

Take it.

Jules stepped forward. One step. Then another.

From behind her porcelain flower mask, Seana watched in absolute silence. Her dark eyes narrowed. Something about Jules looked... wrong.

She couldn’t pinpoint the exact source of her unease, but her battle-honed instincts were screaming warnings. Something fundamental had shifted in him.

Jules reached the edge of the ancient basalt platform. The crystalline sphere descended a fraction of an inch, welcoming him.

A wave of golden energy washed over his body. For a split second, the silver lightning wrapping around his fingers violently warped—flickering a deep, abyssal black before snapping back to silver.

Jules smiled. He hadn’t even noticed the corruption.

But Asher did. His pupils dilated. "Myriad Forge...!"

The sword suddenly thrashed in the air.

CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!

Asher stared at Jules, his expression turning cold and dead serious for the first time since entering the ruins.

"Jules—"

Jules whipped his head around. "What is it now, Blackwood?"

Asher tightened his grip around the hilt of his weapon as it snapped back into his palm. "Get away from that thing."

Jules’s smile vanished, replaced by an ugly scowl.

"Then make me."

BOOOOM!

The palace groaned, another violent tremor shaking the foundations.

[Far above them, in Sector Four...]

Lothe’s eyes snapped open. He felt the cascading energy surge rippling through the palace’s runic network, and his expression turned carved stone.

"That energy..." Professor Sy looked toward him, his brows furrowed. "You felt that too?"

Lothe stared fixedly toward the direction of Sector Three. "Yes."

His hand slowly curled into a fist, tightening around the wide sleeve of his deep-purple robe. "Something just went wrong."

THUMP.

The Core pulsed again. And somewhere deep in the dark below the palace—something answered.

[Back in Sector Three...]

The chamber shook violently.

Jules stood at the base of the platform, silver lightning crawling angrily across his skin. He glared at Asher with heavy impatience. "Why are you suddenly acting like such an overbearing guardian?"

Asher didn’t answer. His total focus remained on the blade of Myriad Forge.

The sword was shaking harder than before, its golden light warping and straining.

CLANG!

Asher gritted his teeth, his knuckles turning white as he fought to keep the weapon steady. He had never seen his Soul Weapon react with such distress.

It wasn’t reacting to the treasure.

It was reacting to Jules.

"Get away from it," Asher repeated, his voice dropping into an absolute command.

Jules’s brows locked together. "You’ve said that already."

"And I’ll say it again." Asher took a deliberate step forward, his boots clicking sharply against the stone. "Move."

Jules’s face twisted with rage. "You don’t give me orders, Blackwood."

A vicious crackle of electricity danced across his fingertips. The power felt sharper, denser, and far more responsive than anything he had ever commanded. He could practically feel the kinetic frequency of every atom of Spiritual Qi in the room.

He clenched his fist.

BOOM!

A concussive burst of silver lightning erupted from his palm, spiderwebbing across the surrounding stone floor and shattering several flagstones.

Arvessa’s eyes widened in shock. "What the—"

Annelle immediately leaped backward, while

Ambiel’s leather whip uncoiled into a defensive guard.

Jules stared at his own hand, a manic grin spreading across his face. "So this is what the palace was hiding... True power."

The crystalline sphere pulsed once more.

THUMP.

A thick, viscous stream of golden energy descended from the sphere, sinking directly into Jules’s chest.

His pupils contracted to absolute pins. For a brief, terrifying microsecond, his silver lightning flickered pitch-black before returning to silver.

Jules remained oblivious.

But Asher didn’t miss it. His expression turned glacial.

"Jules."

"What?!"

"Your Qi."

Jules looked at him, panting slightly. "What about it?"

"Something changed."

Jules let out a derisive snort. "Of course something changed! I’m breaking past my limits!"

"That isn’t what I meant." Asher raised Myriad Forge. The sword screamed a high-pitched warning.

CLANG!

Jules’s smile faltered. "What is wrong with that damn sword of yours?!"

"It’s reacting to an infection."

"An infection?"

Asher locked eyes with him. "Something foreign is taking root in your meridians."

Silence fell over the chamber, heavy and suffocating.

Then, Jules threw his head back and laughed—a hollow, unstable sound. "An infection? You’re losing your mind, Blackwood."

He shook his head dismissively. "I know what Spiritual Qi feels like. I know the heartbeat of my own power."

Jules raised his hand, letting a web of bright silver lightning dance across his palm. "See? Pure. Uncontaminated."

He sneered. "You’re just jealous that I found the core inheritance first."

Asher’s eyes hardened into gold. "I don’t care about your power."

"Then stop standing in my way."

Jules turned his back on him, reaching out toward the crystalline sphere once more. His pulse hammered in his ears.

Take it.

He didn’t know where the command originated, but it felt as natural as breathing. His fingers stretched forward, millimeters from the glass surface.

Seana’s voice cut through the air like a cold blade: "Wait."

Jules froze. He turned his head toward her.

The masked woman stood several meters away, her crimson silk robes fluttering in the swirling energy drafts. Her dark sword remained pointed downward, but the air around her was heavy with lethal poise.

"If I were you, I wouldn’t touch that," Seana said calmly.

Jules stared at her, his patience wearing thin. "And why on earth should I listen to a masked stranger?"

"Because that isn’t a prize," Seana replied, her dark eyes fixed on the sphere. "The palace isn’t rewarding you."

Jules frowned. "Explain."

"It’s using the treasure as bait to anchor you."

The chamber fell utterly still.

Jules’s expression hardened into ice. "You’re saying the palace is using me?"

"Yes."

For a fraction of a second, genuine uncertainty flickered in Jules’s eyes.

Then, the crystalline sphere pulsed again.

THUMP.

A wave of corrupted energy washed over the platform. Jules’s body reacted entirely on instinct before his mind could process the warning.

His hand lashed out.

BOOM!

A violent, jagged bolt of lightning erupted from his palm, streaking directly toward Seana!

Seana didn’t flinch. She simply tilted her head a fraction to the left.

The lightning hissed past her porcelain flower mask.

BOOM!

The stone wall behind her exploded into a crater of flying rubble.

Everyone froze.

Jules stared at his own smoking hand, his face draining of all color. "I... I didn’t—"

He hadn’t meant to attack her. At least... he didn’t think he had.

"What just happened?" he stammered.

Seana’s grip tightened around the hilt of the Blood Moon Sword. "You tell me."

"I said I didn’t mean to!" Jules’s voice cracked, rising in panicked volume as the silver lightning around his body flared wildly, its electrical frequency turning unstable and harsh.

CRACKLE!

On the platform, the crystalline sphere pulsed once more.

This time, the whisper inside Jules’s skull drowned out all reason.

Take it. Kill the obstacles. Take it now.

The uncertainty vanished from his eyes, replaced by a dark, absolute void. "I need this... I need this power!"

Asher moved instantly, throwing his body between Jules and the platform. "No."

Jules’s eyes narrowed into bloodshot slits. "Move."

"No."

"You are becoming an intolerable pest, Blackwood."

"And you’re losing what little sanity you had." Jules’s aura shattered.

BOOOOM!

A torrent of volatile lightning exploded outward.

Asher’s golden Metal Qi surged to meet it, and Myriad Forge screamed as it cleaved through the air.

CLANG!

The two elemental forces collided head-on, sending a concussive shockwave through the hall.

Ambiel reacted instantly, wrapping her leather whip around Arvessa’s waist and yanking her out of the blast radius.

"Stay back!" Annelle shouted, pulling her sisters to safety.

"What is happening to him?!" Arvessa cried out, staring at Jules in horror.

His silver lightning was no longer silver. Veins of pitch-black corruption were actively swallowing the light, turning his aura into a foul, necrotic storm.

In the center of the clash, Asher pushed forward, channeling his newly refined Core Formation Qi through his blade. "Jules, snap out of it!"

Jules met his strike with a savage, unhinged grin, his eyes entirely devoid of pupils—swallowed by absolute blackness.

"I’m clearer than I’ve ever been!" Jules roared.

He threw both hands wide.

RUMBLE!

The stone ceiling above them darkened as hundreds of jagged, black-streaked lightning strands converged into a terrifying, apocalyptic canopy of light.

Asher’s expression turned grim. He raised Myriad Forge overhead.

"Everyone, scatter!"

The Argon sisters bolted toward the corridor. Seana stood her ground, her red mask reflecting the gathering storm.

Jules pointed a trembling, blackened finger straight at Asher.

"Lightning Burial."​