Xiulan’s gaze never left Lei Feng, measuring every nuance of his aura. Trust didn’t come easily—yet there was no malice, only purpose. Yanmei, arms folded, stood protectively beside him.

“What choice?” Xiulan asked, voice steady despite the tension in the air.

Lei Feng lifted a hand and traced a glowing rune in the air. Immediately, storm clouds coiled above them, black and alive. Lightning forked across the sky, the air thick with ozone. “Come with me to the Trial of Thunder,” he said. “Survive it, and you’ll awaken a second element—Lightning. Fire alone will no longer define you. You will become a twin-element cultivator.”

Yanmei stepped forward, brows furrowed. “Why help him?”

“Because war is coming,” Lei Feng replied calmly. “And he may be the only one capable of ending it.”

Without hesitation, Xiulan stepped forward. “Then let’s go.”

The ground beneath them rumbled as they arrived at the mouth of a storm-chasm, a yawning rift in the mountains where lightning danced freely across a blackened sky. The Trial awaited within the Eye of the Storm, where lightning spirits fed on fear itself.

Xiulan glanced back at Yanmei. She gave him a silent nod.

Then he stepped into the storm.

Electric fire screamed across his skin. Each bolt collided with the inferno within him, fire clashing violently with thunder. Pain and exhilaration fused into a single roar as his body became a conduit of raw elemental power.

The storm was alive—wrath made manifest. Xiulan floated amid forked bolts and thunderous roars, every strike scorching his flesh and soul. Yet he endured, every heartbeat a defiance against surrender.

“You are not worthy,” a voice thundered through the storm.

From the roiling clouds, a massive beast descended—half tiger, half serpent, its form a writhing mass of silver lightning. The Spirit of the Storm.

“Then test me!” Xiulan shouted, flames erupting from his body like molten sun.

They collided. Phoenix-fire met silver lightning. Xiulan parried every lunge, his flame blazing brighter with each strike. The spirit lashed out, its crackling tail hurling him through clouds of thunder, yet he rose again.

“You cling to fire,” the storm spirit boomed. “But power demands sacrifice.”

Breath ragged, body bruised, Xiulan stared at the surging energy around him. Then he did the unthinkable—he let go. His flames extinguished.

He spread his arms, opening himself to the lightning. It struck his heart, searing and pure. Pain lanced through him—but it did not destroy him.

From within, a new core awakened: the Dual Cultivation Core. Fire and lightning coiled together, weaving a radiant sigil across his chest, brilliant as the sun and storm combined.

The Spirit of the Storm bowed, its voice resonating like distant thunder. “You have passed.”

Lightning faded, clouds dispersed, and the sky cleared. Xiulan stood amid silence, transformed. Fire and lightning intertwined within him, heralding a power no mortal had yet wielded.

Yanmei’s eyes widened. “You… you truly are a Vessel of dual elements.”

Xiulan’s gaze lifted to the horizon. His trials had only just begun—but now, nothing could stop the storm he carried within.