Clear sky. No clouds. No wind.
A sudden crack split the air.
Thunder erupted, jagged and piercing.
Lanterns swung violently across the Long Clan courtyard. Tiles rattled. Dust rose from every corner.
Servants froze mid-step. Juniors scrambled to steady themselves.
The rear courtyard shivered under an invisible weight.
At its center, the sealed Ancestral Well trembled. Iron bars rattled. Stone plates vibrated.
Lightning tore from the heavens. Singular. Focused.
It descended like a blade.
The bolt struck the well directly.
Shockwave rolled outward. Debris exploded.
Long Tianyuan, barely conscious from his previous fall, felt the tremor shake him to his bones.
Qi Refining 4th layer, unstable. Meridians fractured from the awakening of dragon blood. Bones ached.
He gritted his teeth. Forced himself upright.
White light consumed him.
Pain hit like a hammer. Immediate. Absolute.
Lightning struck his back directly.
Electricity tore through every meridian.
Qi exploded violently. Bones rattled under internal pressure.
Dantian trembled. Qi scattered chaotically.
Meridians that had barely survived the dragon blood awakening screamed.
Inside, his dantian threatened collapse.
He gasped. Each breath seared his lungs.
Stone walls shook. Tiles cracked. Dust fell.
Servants screamed and fell. Lanterns toppled.
Long Wei froze, eyes wide.
The air itself pressed down, invisible, oppressive.
Heavenly Dao. Cold. Impersonal. Absolute.
Judgment, not blessing.
It weighed on Tianyuan, pressing, indifferent.
He was Qi Refining 4th layer. Not Zhu Ji.
Not meant for tribulation.
Yet the bolt persisted.
Inside the well, Tianyuan convulsed violently.
Pain flared across his fractured ribs.
Meridians burned. Qi erupted uncontrollably.
Dantian threatened to collapse inward.
Fingers clawed the jagged stone.
White-hot arcs crawled along his spine.
Another strike. Sharper, closer. Faster.
It pierced his chest.
Tianyuan's vision fractured into shards of blinding white.
He almost passed out.
Instinct drove him.
Dragon blood surged.
Not technique. Not conscious control.
Pure survival instinct.
Lightning entered his veins.
Instead of dispersing, part of it was devoured by his dragon blood.
Qi mixed with lightning essence. Chaotic. Unrefined.
Meridians stretched beyond limits. Pain flared along every nerve.
Bones creaked. Micro-fractures shifted under violent internal pressure.
Flesh smoked. Skin blackened where lightning coursed.
Each breath shredded his lungs.
Dantian quaked violently.
If it collapsed—his cultivation would vanish.
He clenched his teeth. Blood spilled into his mouth.
Dragon blood pulsed, dragging energy from lightning into circulation.
Not controlled. Not refined. Survival alone.
A third strike descended. Smaller. Denser. Like a blade.
It slammed into his chest.
Scorched skin, blackened meridians, bones trembling under pressure.
Dantian trembled.
He almost lost consciousness.
Lightning dissipated.
Silence fell.
Stone dust settled. Smoke rose from the well's mouth.
Outside, the City Overseer extended his spiritual sense.
Zhu Ji early stage. He narrowed his eyes at the Long Clan.
"Tribulation-level fluctuation…?" He frowned. "Impossible."
Mother felt it too.
Her chest ached. Tremors pulsed through her bloodline.
Not pain. Recognition. Fear.
"Tianyuan…" She whispered.
Inside the well, his body sagged against stone.
Breathing shallow, ragged.
Qi chaotic. Meridians scorched. Dantian unstable.
Dragon blood still surged. Lightning essence lingering in veins.
Survival was instinctual.
No guidance. No technique. Only raw, primal survival.
Pain absolute. Consciousness slipping.
He tried to circulate Qi.
Meridians groaned. Some pathways already blackened beyond repair.
Every circulation burned. Bones threatened to fracture again.
Muscles locked. Tendons spasmed.
Dragon blood reacted instinctively.
It pulled lightning energy deeper into his dantian.
It fed on the chaotic Qi, forcing balance.
Not stable. Not complete. Just enough to survive.
His body shuddered violently.
One more movement. One wrong breath.
He would collapse.
Yet, something within him refused.
He had survived worse.
He would survive again.
The well itself seemed to hum faintly.
Stone plates vibrated. The seal trembled.
Outside, winds swirled briefly.
Lightning residue crackled faintly across the courtyard.
Servants and juniors whispered among themselves.
"Did… did the lightning strike someone?"
Long Wei shook his head. Fear in his eyes.
"No one should survive that," someone murmured.
His mother leaned against the chamber wall.
Fingers pressed to her lips.
"Tian…yuan…"
Her heart thumped violently.
City Overseer withdrew his sense.
Zhu Ji level. He frowned.
"No mortal at Qi Refining 4th layer can trigger that level of lightning. Who…?"
Inside the well, Tianyuan coughed, black blood staining the stone.
Meridians smoked. Qi churned violently.
Dantian unstable. Bones threatened fracture.
Yet his body still clung to life.
Dragon blood surged, chaotic and raw.
Lightning essence pulsed through his veins.
Every nerve screamed.
Every meridian threatened rupture.
He was alive.
Breathing raggedly. Pain burning with every heartbeat.
Consciousness fragmented.
Instinct ruled.
Devour or die.
He tasted the raw energy.
Dragon blood greedily drew the remaining lightning into his body.
Meridians expanded forcibly.
Dantian trembled violently.
Pain clawed through him.
Survival instinct alone kept him upright.
Finally, silence.
Lightning dissipated.
Smoke curled from his blackened body.
The sky above cleared.
Cloudless. Still. Quiet.
Outside, no one dared approach the well.
City Overseer withdrew, confused and wary.
Mother leaned against the wall. Trembling.
Her son… alive. Somehow.
Inside the well, Tianyuan lay battered.
Breathing shallow.
Dragon blood still pulsing. Lightning essence lingering.
Meridians scorched. Qi in chaos. Dantian unstable.
Survival was instinct.
Not wisdom. Not cultivation. Pure instinct.
A faint mark surfaced on his chest.
Scale-shaped. Barely visible.
Carrying a trace of heavenly aura.
Unnoticed by all.
He understood now.
Survival is not enduring.
It is devouring.
And against Heavenly Dao… instinct alone was all he had.
Pain seared. Breathing shallow. Heart pounding.
But he had survived.
Alive.
The smoke of the well curled skyward.
The courtyard remained silent.
Clan members assumed stray lightning.
Nothing more.
Tianyuan clenched a fist weakly.
Dragon blood still pulsed through scorched veins.
Lightning essence lingering.
He would rise.
And when he did, no power—not even Heavenly Dao—would stop him.
The faint scale-shaped mark on his chest glimmered softly.
An omen unnoticed.
A trace of what was to come.