9 The Arrival

Chapter 9:the arrival

"Welcome, everyone! Today is a special day, so please make yourselves at home," Dora announced,as she walked up to her father as she embraced him and guided him and his companions from the panda sect to their various seats. Shortly after, the head of the Void Clan, Gerald, entered with his father Thomas ,there presence was noticed quickly as his guests greeted them with respect, noting the evident increase in their strength.

"Thomas, congratulations on your blessed family," Lucas, Thomas's second brother, said cheerfully as he approached Thomas. Alvine, the third brother, followed closely behind. The last time the brothers had gathered was during the clan's destruction.

"And where is the young genius we're meant to see?" Alvine asked, curiosity lighting his eyes, while the children from the children from the branch family listened intently.

"Don't worry; he will soon be back soon," Thomas replied with a gentle smile, knowing his pride would make an entrance shortly. He could already sense Damon presence since they crossed the clan's barrier .

"Welcome, everyone! Today is a special day, so please make yourselves at home," Dora announced warmly, her voice carrying an air of confidence and hospitality. Dressed in a flowing emerald gown, she moved with grace as she approached her father, offering him a heartfelt embrace. Her actions reflected a deep bond between them, as she turned to guide him and his companions from the prestigious Panda Sect to their designated seats.

The hall, adorned with intricate tapestries and shimmering lanterns, buzzed with muted conversations. Moments later, a sudden hush fell over the gathering as the imposing figure of Gerald, head of the Void Clan, entered alongside his father, Thomas. Their arrival commanded attention, their very presence a testament to their formidable strength and status. The crowd instinctively parted, bowing slightly in respect as whispers of admiration rippled through the room.

"Thomas, congratulations on your blessed family," came a cheerful voice, cutting through the silence. Lucas, Thomas's second brother, stepped forward, his warm demeanor a stark contrast to the tension in the air. Behind him trailed Alvine, the youngest of the brothers, his sharp gaze scanning the room with an edge of curiosity.

The three brothers had not stood together since the tragic destruction of their clan—a memory that still lingered in the minds of those present. Yet today, there was no hint of sorrow, only a quiet determination in their eyes.

"And where is the young genius we've been hearing so much about?" Alvine asked, his curiosity barely veiled as he glanced around the room. Nearby, children from the branch families leaned in, their eager expressions betraying their own intrigue.

Thomas's lips curved into a knowing smile, his calm demeanor unshaken. "Don't worry," he replied, his voice steady, yet laced with pride. "He will be here soon."

Though his words were simple, his confidence was absolute. Thomas could feel his Grandson's presence—it was faint but undeniable, a ripple of power that had crossed the clan's barrier just moments ago. He didn't need to say it aloud: Damon, the one they all awaited, was already near. And when he entered, he would not just meet their expectations—he would exceed them.

A sudden gust of wind swept through the courtyard, carrying with it an ominous chill. The onlookers turned their gaze upward as a shadow emerged from the sky, descending swiftly. The massive silhouette of the Mist Raven broke through the clouds, its wings cutting through the air like blades. It landed with an echoing thud, its talons digging into the ancient stone.

Damon's eyes gleamed with anticipation. This was his moment. His chance to display the power that had been silently growing within him. A faint smirk played on his lips as he let his spiritual energy flow freely.

The atmosphere shifted instantly.

An oppressive wave of pressure swept through the crowd, thick and suffocating. Onlookers staggered back, clutching their chests as an overwhelming sense of dread washed over them. Damon's spiritual energy wasn't just powerful—it was alive, surging with bloodlust and primal intensity.

"Don't be alarmed," a booming voice broke through the tension. Thomas, his figure radiating pride, raised his hand to calm the crowd. He stood atop the Mist Raven, the beast seemingly docile beneath his command.

Then, the air itself seemed to hum with energy.

Three pillars of light erupted in the courtyard, one after the other: Red, Gold, and Black. Their radiance pierced the sky, painting the clouds with an otherworldly glow. Gasps rippled through the Void Clan.

"It's him…" one elder whispered, his voice trembling with emotion.

As the third pillar rose, an ethereal figure appeared within the Red light. The form of the Void Dragon Ancestor materialized, its presence both regal and terrifying. The Void Clan fell to their knees as one, their heads bowed in reverence. Some wept openly, their tears soaking the dirt beneath them. This was more than a sign—it was a promise. A promise that the era of their revenge was near.

But the crowd couldn't keep their eyes off Damon.

The boy, standing tall in the midst of the chaos, took a single step forward. Void energy surged beneath his feet, coalescing into visible tendrils of dark power. He moved again, and another step followed, this time onto thin air.

"Void Strides…" someone murmured, awe-stricken.

Damon ascended slowly, each step leaving behind a faint afterimage that shimmered like a mirage. It was as if reality itself bent to his will. He reached the skies above the courtyard, his figure outlined against the backdrop of the three glowing pillars.

And then, he moved.

Damon punched forward, his fist cutting through the air with a force that seemed to tear the heavens apart. A deafening roar echoed as a burst of purple energy erupted from his strike, spiraling upward like flames. The sky turned violet, the clouds consumed by the sheer intensity of his spiritual power.

The crowd could only stare, transfixed.

"I-Is he a genius?" someone stammered, their voice shaking with disbelief. "No… he's a madman. A terrifying one."

The Void Clan's blood boiled with exhilaration. For years, they had lived in shadows, their pride stripped away. But this child—a boy who could walk the skies and paint them with flames—was their beacon of hope.

Damon descended slowly, his expression unreadable, his presence radiating calm confidence.

The whispers grew louder, some filled with awe, others with fear.

"A genius… no, a monster," one man muttered, clutching his trembling hands. "With bloodlines like that, and such mastery… he could reshape the world."

Damon's feet touched the ground, but the courtyard still felt charged with the remnants of his power. He glanced at the crowd, his eyes gleaming like twin voids.

"Let them watch," he thought, his lips curling into a smirk. "This is just the beginning."