Niklaus

In a world powered by the cultivation of potent Spirit Souls, Ren is an outcast. Born with a chaotic, primordial power that renders him "Aether-deaf," he is seen as a worthless dud in a society that values strength above all else. His entry into the prestigious Eldorian Spirit Master Academy marks him as a target for scorn and ridicule from the powerful scions of noble houses.
But Ren’s seeming weakness hides a terrifying potential, a secret recognized by only one person: a mysterious and powerful GAMA Elder who takes the boy under his wing. Forced to live a double life, Ren endures public humiliation as the academy’s worst student while secretly undergoing a brutal and unorthodox training regimen. He learns to turn his weakness into a weapon, mastering a unique art of manipulating the physical world that defies the known laws of cultivation.
Using his sharp intellect and invisible arts, Ren achieves a series of impossible victories against opponents far stronger than himself. However, his success doesn't bring glory; it brings suspicion. Each baffling victory makes him a greater enigma, attracting the unwanted attention of not just his academy rivals, but also a powerful, shadowy organization that sees his unique existence as a dangerous anomaly that must be understood—or erased.
Now, Ren must navigate a treacherous world where every display of his true ability could lead to his destruction. He must unravel the secrets of his forgotten bloodline and master the raging storm within his soul, all while hiding his power from allies and enemies alike. For in a world where might is right, the greatest threat is the one that no one ever sees coming.

Disclaimer: Inspired by Douluo Dalu (Soul Land)

Aerthos: Soulforged

The echo of the falling sky receded, leaving Ren on the cold stone floor of the vault, gasping for air. He had not just watched a memory. He had lived it. The crystalline shard in his hand now pulsed with a soft, azure light, its dormant heart awakened.

"The Obsidian God," Zephyrion's voice whispered, a broken, terrified sound. "It did not fight... It erased."

Ren slowly got to his feet, his own iron will pushing back against the phantom despair. He now understood the true nature of the enemy. He carefully placed the "Heart of the Tempest" shard into a shielded pouch on his belt. He would not leave this piece of his past behind.

He returned to the Elder's Pavilion, his presence now carrying a profound and heavy new weight. He found the Elder in the map room and placed the glowing shard on the table.

"I have seen it," Ren said, his voice low. "The end of Ouros. The god of the void."

The Elder stared at the shard, then at Ren's face, his own expression becoming grim with a sorrow that seemed to span a thousand years. "So," he whispered. "You have finally met the enemy."

But the Elder also saw something else. The chaotic, powerful Aether of the Rank 11 Apprentice was no longer just a raging river. After experiencing the memory, it had a new, strange harmony.

"The memory… it did more than show you the past, didn't it?" the Elder asked, his gaze piercing.

"Yes," Ren confirmed. "The Third Tempering… I was struggling with it. I was trying to command the flow of my Aether, but I had no blueprint, no true understanding of what a perfected Raijin's power should feel like."

He looked at the shard, then back to the Elder. "In that memory, for a single moment, I was the one who fell at the end. I felt the flow of his power, the perfect, effortless command he had over the storm before it was all extinguished."

The Elder nodded slowly, a deep understanding dawning in his eyes. He understood completely who "he" was without needing a name. He had sent Ren to find a history lesson, but the boy had returned with the key to his own mastery.

"Then your seclusion is not over," the Elder said, his voice firm. "You are on the verge of another breakthrough in control. The memory is still fresh in your soul. Do not lose it. Go. Finish what you started."

Ren returned to his room immediately. He didn't need to eat or rest. He sat, sealing the room, and entered a state of deep meditation. He held the memory of that ancient power at the forefront of his mind—that feeling of perfect, effortless, absolute command.

He began the Third Tempering again. But this time, it was not a struggle. It was not a fight. He simply guided the roaring river of his Aether, using the memory as a template, coaxing his own chaotic power to flow in the same perfect, harmonious patterns as his ancestor. The process was no longer agonizing; it was a swift, intuitive, and profound act of alignment.

His Aetheric control sharpened at an exponential rate. The wild, chaotic energy of his soul became a perfectly honed instrument. Hours passed like minutes.

When he finally opened his eyes, the sun was rising. The air in his room was perfectly still. He raised his hand, and a dozen "Thunder's Needles" materialized in the air around him, each one perfectly stable, each one humming with a lethal, controlled power. He had not just completed the Third Tempering. He had mastered it.

He was still a Rank 11 Aether Apprentice. But the quality, the sheer density and control of his power, had leaped to a level that no GAMA textbook could ever hope to measure. The foundation was now truly set.

Chapter 81: The Weight of a Ghost