SUPREME ARCH-MAGUS

Elder Jill, still hiding behind a stone ledge with Sparky guarding her, could barely believe what she was witnessing.

“He’s… triggering an environmental resonance,” she murmured. “Not just absorbing lightning—he’s guiding it, maturing it. Even the forest is responding…”

Sparky growled in awe. “That’s my master… He is always unpredictable. This is more than awakening. This is recognition.”

In the center of it all, Kent’s hair now stood upright, dancing like silver flames. His eyes opened briefly—and in them were seen seven miniature lightning beasts, spinning like galaxies in his irises. He took another breath—and with it, the Seventh Beast, the black dragonling, struck him squarely.

Boom.

A dome of radiant lightning exploded outward, flattening the ground in all directions.

The thunderwood tree stood unshaken, but its bark glowed with ancient runes, now permanently awakened. The beasts had vanished. The sky cleared. The clouds, exhausted, slowly faded into golden strands of mist.

Kent slowly floated back down to the earth.

His body steamed with sacred energy.

The mountain was silent.

Everything around him bowed in reverence—even the wind.

Then, slowly, the Lightning Red Grass—newly matured, sparkling with lightning veins—crawled from the rocks and nestled itself beside him.

He had not hunted it.

It had come to him. Kent ignored them and stared at the sky with angry glare. He saw an opportunity in the storm.

The world stood still.

Kent rose slowly from the cracked earth beneath the thunderwood tree. His robes fluttered like ancient banners in the lingering static wind, his silver hair whipping across his shoulders. The divine glow around him had softened, yet his eyes gleamed with dangerous clarity.

The storm had passed. But the residue of heavenly lightning still shimmered in the air—refusing to fade.

Kent extended his right arm, and with a thought, his Celestial Storm Bow appeared in a surge of swirling energy. Sleek and curved like a divine crescent, it crackled with raw power, forged through countless battles since his inheritance. He held it horizontally above his head, his stance steady like a mountain deity.

With both hands, he began to draw the string back—but there was no arrow.

Instead, the residual lightning energy in the air trembled.

The sky pulsed.

The remnants of the seven lightning beasts—shattered, scattered particles—began to swirl above him. They danced and converged at the center of the bowstring, drawn and condensed with each pull. Crackling blue and gold, spiraling with pure storm essence, an arrow began to form.

It was no ordinary projectile—it was born from the heavens themselves.

A natural lightning arrow, forged from divine tribulation energy, given form only because of Kent’s presence.

As the string reached its full draw, Kent exhaled. He released.

Zzzzhhhrrrroooooom!

The arrow soared into the sky, leaving a trail of blinding light behind.

Up above, clouds twisted violently as the arrow split the firmament. At its peak, the arrow exploded—not into destruction, but into a shape. A gigantic lightning dragon, forged by will and essence, roared in the heavens. Its thunderous cry sent chills across the entire Divine Herb Forest.

The dragon spun once in the sky, then turned golden, its body refining midair as it absorbed the final fragments of heavenly lightning.

And then—it began to descend.

Like a meteor.

–

The golden lightning arrow streaked toward the Third Mountain, radiating such pressure that every beast in hiding felt it.

From the ground, the air, the caves—thousands of magical beasts emerged, their eyes crazed with greed and reverence. For such an arrow wasn’t just a weapon—it was a divine treasure, infused with lightning law, creation force, and evolution potential.

Whoever obtained it could rise beyond their current rank. Some even hoped for enlightenment.

Beasts howled and launched into the air.

But one had already claimed it.

With a mighty roar and a flash of crimson, Sparky, the Flame Thunder Dragon, unfurled his massive wings. Fire roared from his back, trailing flames as he shot into the sky like a missile.

The beasts saw him. Fear and rage twisted in their eyes—but it was too late.

Sparky’s talons closed around the descending golden lightning arrow, catching it mid-air like a celestial hunter. The shockwave of the catch alone sent weaker beasts spiraling down unconscious.

But the sky had more surprises.

A low rumble followed. Not from thunder—but growling.

Suddenly, a shadow slashed across the clouds. A beast never before seen in the Divine Herb Forest descended, its form like a three-headed wolf-eagle, its feathers tipped with crackling spikes and its tails trailing plasma mist. Each of its three heads bore a different eye—red, blue, and green. Its aura was ancient and suffocating.

It screeched once—and the entire forest seemed to stop breathing.

The beast—later to be known as the Tri-Volt Skyfiend—lunged at Sparky, eyes blazing with hunger.

Sparky roared, flames erupting around his scales. He twisted and dove to the side, dodging the incoming strike, but the Skyfiend was relentless. Its talons lashed out, its jaws snapping like thunderbolts. The two clashed in midair.

A brutal sky battle began.

Sparky used his speed, breathing flame walls and thunder shields, weaving in and out with practiced fury. But the Tri-Volt Skyfiend fought like a born predator, using its three heads to trap, attack, and disrupt from multiple directions. One head spewed plasma breath. Another summoned whirlwinds. The third hissed and sent jagged bolts of lightning straight into Sparky’s wings.

But Sparky didn’t retreat.

He slashed with claws, bit with fury, and struck with tail whips that detonated the air with fire-lightning fusion. One of the Skyfiend’s heads let out a pained scream as Sparky’s claw tore through its neck scales. But it was not enough.

The beasts below watched in a frenzy, many still too scared to intervene, others preparing to leap in should Sparky fall.

Kent stood silently below, eyes sharp but calm.

“Don’t fail me, Sparky,” he whispered, his aura still crackling faintly. “This is your trial too.”

The golden lightning arrow, still clutched in Sparky’s claws, gleamed ever brighter—its light growing unstable, as if preparing to burst into raw law essence if it remained untamed too long.

Suddenly, Sparky pulled a desperate move—he dove into the thunderwood tree’s crown, dragging the Skyfiend with him.

Boom!

The ancient tree absorbed the burst of energy, crackling violently but surviving, as Sparky launched himself from the other side, spinning mid-air and smashing his tail into the Skyfiend’s eye.

CRACK!

The beast screeched, tumbling away. One eye blinded. Blood and lightning poured from its mouth.

–

Tq 😉