Chapter 163: This is My Path

Chapter 163: This Is My Path

BOOOOOOOOOOM!

The first bolt of silver lightning tore the sky apart.

Lothe stood at the edge of the shattered floating platform, his boots planted in front of Seana. Behind him, she lay limp upon the fractured flagstones.

The lightning that had struck him moments earlier still coiled along his flesh like living silver needles. His robes were charred black, blood dripped from his jaw, and the basalt beneath his heels continued to web with cracks from the residual pressure.

Yet he remained upright. Barely.

Above, the tribulation clouds churned in an angry rift. Silver lightning coiled through their depths, lighting the valley below in cold, stark pulses.

Then the resonance shifted.

A second current of energy rose from the ruins: deep crimson. It drifted from Seana’s unconscious body, pooling around her like a shroud of liquid ruby. At the same time, violet spatial Qi boiled outward from Lothe.

The two currents twined together, climbing into the heavens.

HUMMMMMM!

The entire basin shuddered. Below, the surviving cultivators lifted their eyes.

Nyren stared at the clouds, silver hair whipping across her face in the rising gale. "What is that?"

Beside her, Oren’s expression turned grim. His telekinetic perception stretched across the ruins, but the sheer atmospheric density threatened to snap his focus. "Those aren’t natural lightning clouds."

Justin tightened his grip on his hilt, violet sparks dancing across his knuckles. "No kidding." He stared at the battered youth on the platform. "Lothe is running on fumes. Why is Heaven targeting him now?"

Though they were barely acquaintances, the fact that both Lothe and Seana had just held up the sky for thousands of strangers commanded an unspoken, heavy respect.

Nobody answered. Because an even more pressing question had surfaced: why was crimson energy rising from Seana as well?

High above, Professor Sy tracked the gathering clouds. His eyes widened, his weathered face draining of color.

"Impossible..."

Lucan turned to him instantly. "What is it?"

"Those are heavenly tribulation clouds!" Sy pointed an unsteady finger skyward.

"A tribulation?" Adrian repeated, stunned.

"Why now?" Lucan pressed.

Sy’s gaze darted between the twin pillars of light—violet and crimson. "Lothe has broken through his ceiling. And so has she."

Roan Blackwood stepped forward, broad shoulders rigid. "Two tribulations?"

"Not two in sequence," Sy murmured, horror dawning in his voice. "Two separate tribulations striking the exact same coordinate simultaneously. The heavens are judging both breakthroughs at once."

General Vaelric’s jaw clenched. "How many bolts?"

Sy watched the silver arcs weaving through the cloud base. "At least eighteen each, assuming both are stepping into the standard threshold of Core Formation."

Silence fell like lead.

"Eighteen each?" Elowen whispered.

"Thirty-six bolts in total," Sy confirmed.

Adrian’s breath hitched. "In their condition? That’s not a trial. That’s an execution."

Sy had no reply. Everyone could see the blood pooling beneath Lothe’s boots. Everyone knew Seana had only collapsed seconds ago after burning her lifeforce to maintain the sanctuary.

Neither had anything left to give. Yet Heaven had already opened its eyes.

Asher watched in silence, Myriad Forge grounded beside his leg. He had only just endured his own tribulation inside the palace depths. He remembered the bone-crushing weight, the lightning that sought out every hidden flaw in his meridians, the terror of his core threatening to collapse under the pressure.

Yet what was gathering above Lothe and Seana was fundamentally different.

When he had broken through, Heaven had tested him. This sky felt as though it intended to erase them.

"They’ll need a miracle," Asher muttered.

Nyren looked at him. "Can they survive it?"

Asher held her gaze for a beat. "I don’t know."

KRRRRRRRAAAACK!

The clouds split. A second silver spear drove straight at Lothe.

Lothe’s eyes narrowed. He refused to give up an inch; if that bolt clipped Seana’s unconscious body, her broken meridians would disintegrate.

He raised his right palm. Weak violet Qi pooled across his skin, fragile and flickering. His reserves were tapped out from the Void Vortex, yet he forced his Core to cough up its final dregs.

A thin spatial crease formed before his chest.

BOOOOOOOOOOM!

The crease shattered like sugar glass. Silver lightning detonated into his ribcage, driving him backward until his heel caught the jagged rim of the platform.

He tilted backward over the abyss.

His balance failed.

No.

His left hand slammed down onto the stone. CRACK. Basalt splintered beneath his fingers, anchoring him by a hair’s breadth.

Lothe coughed violently, dark clots spattering his knuckles. He pushed himself back onto his knees, shaking from his teeth to his toes, and forced himself between Seana and the clouds once more.

He looked up at the churning vortex. "Is that all?" he rasped.

Thunder rolled across the stones in answer.

Lothe’s bloody mouth twitched. "Figures."

Behind him, the crimson radiance flared. He didn’t see it—his gaze was fixed on the third bolt forming in the clouds—until a weak whisper brushed against his ear.

"Lothe..."

He froze. For a second, he thought the trauma had finally cracked his mind.

"Lothe."

He turned. Seana’s eyes were open.

They were unfocused at first, glassy with exhaustion, before locking onto his face. She saw the blood on his chin, the violent shivers running through his arms, and the jagged cracks surrounding his feet.

Then she looked up at the churning silver vortex. Understanding hit her in an instant.

Lothe dropped to one knee beside her. "Don’t move."

She tried to push herself up. He pressed a firm, trembling hand against her shoulder. "Stay down. You’re tired."

"And what about you?" she whispered.

"I’m fine."

Her eyes tracked the blood running down his sleeve, pooling at his fingertips. "You’re lying."

Lothe offered a faint, crooked smile. "And you’re getting better at catching me."

She didn’t smile back.

Another deafening rumble shook the platform. Seana felt the familiar current inside her chest—the breakthrough energy she had forcibly clamped down on to sustain the Crimson Lotus Sanctuary was boiling to the surface again.

Heaven had arrived to settle the ledger.

Seana planted both palms on the stone and pushed herself to her feet.

Lothe scrambled upright, planting himself directly between her and the sky. "No."

She blinked. "What?"

"Whatever stubborn idea just crossed your mind, the answer is no."

"Lothe, move."

"Not happening." He raised his hand toward the gathering storm. "You can barely keep your balance. You think I’m letting you take a heavenly strike in this state?"

"And you think you can take both?!"

"I have better endurance for pain."

A choked sound, half-laugh and half-sob, tore from her throat. Then she saw his hands.

They were shaking violently. He had curled his fingers tight against his palms to hide the tremors, but the spasms ran all the way through his forearms. He was on the absolute threshold of collapse, yet he was preparing to throw his body in front of eighteen bolts of lightning for her.

Her chest ached with unbearable weight. "Lothe, please."

He didn’t look back. "Stay behind me."

The clouds flared with blinding light. The third bolt was ready.

Seana stared at his broad, scorched back. The man who had outsmarted ancient horrors, who had shattered a divine core through sheer, stubborn will, was standing on broken legs just to be her shield.

Something inside her snapped.

"Lothe..."

His tone softened slightly. "Yes?"

"Move."

"No."

She grit her teeth. "LOTHE!"

Gathering every remaining scrap of Blood Qi left in her marrow, she drove both hands into his chest and shoved him sideways.

BOOM!

The force caught him completely off balance. His spent legs gave way, and he crashed hard against the flagstones yards away, his wounded shoulder taking the brunt of the fall.

Pain blinded him for a second. When his vision cleared, he looked up, his voice cracking:

"SEANA!"

She stood alone at the center of the platform, facing the sky. Her knees shook, her breathing rattled in her throat, and blood leaked from the corner of her lips—but she held her ground.

"What are you doing?!" he roared, scrambling to push himself up.

Seana looked back at him over her shoulder. Her dark eyes were shining with tears.

"This is my path, Lothe," she said, her voice shaking. "Let me walk it."

He struggled against the stone, his damaged arm buckling under his weight. "Seana, don’t do this!"

"I have to."

"No, you don’t! I can protect you!"

"I know you can!" Her voice cut through the howling wind, sharp and desperate. "That’s the problem!"

Lothe went dead silent.

Seana pressed a trembling fist against her sternum. "You always do this. Every time the sky falls, you step in front of me. Every time danger breathes down our necks, you take the fire yourself."

Her voice dropped to a ragged whisper. "And I love you for it. I love you so much it terrifies me. But I will not watch you destroy yourself just because you’re terrified of losing me."

Lothe stared at her, frozen.

She wiped the back of her hand across her wet cheek. "I know you’re hurting. I know your meridians are torn to ribbons. I know you’d let this sky turn you to ash before you let a spark touch me. But what happens if you die saving me, Lothe?"

Her voice broke completely. "Does that make me stronger? Does that make me happy? I don’t want to live in a world where I am the reason you’re in the dirt."

The words hit him harder than any bolt of lightning ever could.

Lothe’s fingers dug into the cracks of the stone. He wanted to shout back. He wanted to tell her he could take thirty-six strikes, fifty strikes, a hundred strikes—that he would rather be erased than watch her bleed.

But the blood coating his palms told the cold, merciless truth: he could barely withstand his own trial. And Seana had earned the right to face hers. She had stood on the frontlines. She had held the ground while he took the sky. She wasn’t an ornament to be tucked away in his shadow.

"I was afraid, too," Seana whispered, looking down at her trembling hands. "I was terrified that no matter how hard I trained, I’d always just be the burden you had to carry. But I don’t want to stand behind you forever, Lothe."

She lifted her chin, her red-tinted eyes locking onto his.

"I want to stand beside you."

Lothe’s expression softened. The cold, calculating tactician vanished, leaving behind only the boy who loved her.

The storm overhead reached its apex. The third bolt screamed in the dark.

Seana raised her right hand. Crimson beads of blood rose from her skin, answering her command even as her core cried out in agony.

"I can’t promise I’ll survive this," she said quietly. "But I promise I will fight with everything I have."

Lothe looked at her face, at the unyielding fire burning in her eyes.

He had always hated things he couldn’t control. And her life was the one thing he wanted to control above all else. But he understood now: loving Seana didn’t mean keeping her safe behind an iron wall. It meant letting her draw her sword, even when it broke his heart to watch.

Slowly, Lothe let his shoulders drop.

"Then stand, my love," he said, his voice raw. "Walk your path."

Her lips trembled.

"Just don’t you dare fall before I can reach you," he added, a fragile, crooked smile breaking through the blood on his face.

Seana laughed through her tears, wiping her chin. "You really can’t help yourself, can you?"

"Never."

KRRRRRRRAAAACK!

The third strike fell.?