Chapter 2 – The Weight of the Sovereign
The Shattered Silence
The air in the awakening hall felt heavy, as if the oxygen had been replaced by a dense, metallic resonance. Su Yuntao was on his knees, his breathing shallow. He looked at the crystal ball—now glowing with a white-gold intensity that shouldn't exist in a mortal realm—and then at the six-year-old boy holding it.
Lakan Diwa stood perfectly still. He didn't look excited. He looked... analytical. He slowly withdrew his hand, and the blinding light receded, but the "Batong-Pilak"(Silver Stone) effect remained. The wooden floor where he stood had been permanently transmuted into a metallic, iridescent stone.
"Innate Rank 20," Lakan thought, his mind moving with the cold precision of a grandmaster. "The Seven-Tone Chaos breathing has refined my body well. My meridians are already wide enough to house the first two songs. Now, I just need the materials to begin the Buklod rituals. The traditional rings of this world are too... inefficient."
The Passing Shadow
Lakan turned to leave. He didn't look at the other children, and he certainly didn't seek out the boy with the blue silver grass. To Lakan, Tang San was currently just a variable he had read about—a stranger with a black-haired, quiet demeanor. There was no need to provoke him or reveal his hand.
As Lakan walked past Tang San, their shoulders didn't touch, but the air between them seemed to crackle for a microsecond. Tang San's eyes were fixed on Lakan's back, his gaze sharp and questioning. He was clearly wondering how a village orphan could possess such overwhelming power.
Lakan didn't stop. He didn't care about Tang San's suspicion. His goals were far larger than a rivalry in a dusty village. He was an architect, and he had a world to rebuild.
The Deacon's Desperation
"Wait! Child! Please!" Su Yuntao scrambled to his feet, his face pale with a mix of terror and religious awe. "You... you must come with me. Not to Nuoding. I must report this to the higher-ups of Spirit Hall immediately. An Innate Rank 20... a God-level Bird... This is unprecedented!"
Lakan stopped at the doorway, his back to the Deacon. "Spirit Hall," he mused. In his mind, he saw the future—the rise of the Holy Ghost Cult, the corruption of the Empires, and the selective 'justice' of the Tang Sect. Spirit Hall was the only organization with the infrastructure to support his vision for the common people, even if it was currently plagued by internal politics.
"I will go," Lakan said, his voice calm and carrying a strange, heavy authority. "But I will not be a 'student.' I will be an observer. Tell your superiors that a Sovereign has arrived."
Su Yuntao shivered. He felt as if he weren't talking to a six-year-old, but to an ancient entity wearing a child's skin.
The Silent Departure
Lakan returned to his shack one last time. He didn't have much—just a few tools and the memory of his parents' unfair end. He didn't write any manuals. He didn't teach any skills. He knew that knowledge without power was a death sentence for the weak. He would keep the Eight-Directional Flow and the Baybayin Scriptures locked in his mind until he had the strength to protect those he taught.
He spent the evening sitting in the Serpent's Coil (Silat) position, refining the Chaos Rainbow Vortex in his dantian. He could feel the fire of his father and the song of his mother merging into a singular, prismatic force.
"The training arc begins," Lakan thought, his eyes closing as he entered a deep state of cultivation. "First, I master the body. Then, I master the spirit. Then... I master the world."
The next morning, as a carriage from Spirit Hall arrived at the village gates, Lakan climbed inside without looking back. Tang San was likely heading to Nuoding to start his own journey, but their paths would not cross again for a long time.
Lakan was heading to the heart of power. He was heading to the place where he would secure the resources for his cultivation.