Chapter 69: The Lightning Spirit’s Judgment

Chapter 69: The Lightning Spirit’s JudgmentChapter 69

Thunderwrath had proven to be far more formidable than Ifrit—an opponent not just of strength, but of relentless precision and cunning. Han, thinking he’d finally gained the upper hand, prepared for the final blow... but then Thunderwrath spoke, his grin stretching wider.

"I haven’t even shown you my ultimate move yet."

Bluff or not, Han wasn’t about to take chances.

"Eleventh Jungle Art: Turtle Shield – Flame Style!" Han roared.

In an instant, a dome of roaring fire surrounded him. This Turtle Shield wasn’t just a barrier—it burned and repelled anything that dared to strike it. A fusion of offense and defense, it was his strongest form of protection.

But Thunderwrath wasn’t done.

"Lightning Force: Thunderclap!" the spirit declared, slamming both hands together.

A thunderous explosion erupted as a wave of blinding lightning surged across the battlefield. Walls crumbled under the pressure. The fire dome trembled—then shattered like glass. The lightning pierced through, slamming into Han and drawing a scream of pain from him as the energy coursed through his body.

When the assault finally ceased, the air was thick with smoke and static.

Thunderwrath descended slowly, crackling with power. A lightning bolt sparked to life in his hand, glowing ominously.



Han was on his knees, head bowed, his body twitching from the aftershock.

Thunderwrath walked toward him, step by deliberate step, stopping just short.

"You fought well, human," he said. "But you lack experience. You may possess more raw power while fused with Ifrit, but battle isn’t won by strength alone."

He lifted his arm, the lightning bolt humming with lethal energy.

"I’ve faced enemies far stronger than you and devised ways to win. My battle instincts were forged over countless centuries. That’s something you simply can’t replicate."

Suddenly, Han’s hand slammed into the ground.

A flaming vortex spiraled out, threatening to engulf Thunderwrath. But the spirit had already anticipated the move. He countered with lightning and shot forward, impaling Han clean through the chest with the lightning bolt.

"I told you," Thunderwrath muttered as blood trickled from Han’s mouth. "My experience is leagues beyond yours."

But Han... smiled.

"I wouldn’t be so sure."

His body flickered—then burst into glowing particles.

"A clone?!" Thunderwrath snapped, spinning around.

Behind him, the real Han was already in motion.

"Fourth Jungle Art: Cheetah Stride – Flame Style!"

He darted forward with blistering speed, flames trailing behind him.

"Fourteenth Jungle Art: Tiger Punch – Flame Style!"

His fist, wreathed in concentrated flame, connected squarely with Thunderwrath’s chest. A violent shockwave erupted, and a massive inferno blasted the spirit backward. Thunderwrath crashed through several stone pillars before slamming into the far wall.

Han stood, breathing heavily, his arm still extended.

System Message:

HP: 30 / 500

Energy: 0 / 15,000

His strength was gone. The fusion had ended. The fiery tattoos and the radiant ring behind him faded into nothing. He was back to normal—vulnerable, broken.

Han’s only thought now was a desperate prayer:

Please... stay down.

But fate, it seemed, enjoyed irony.

The rubble shifted. Then burst apart.

Thunderwrath rose—battered, scorched, limping... but still standing. Lightning flickered in his hand once more as he approached Han.

Han’s heart pounded.

If he fires that bolt, I’m dead.

There was no running. No dodging. No tricks left.

Still, Han raised his fists in a shaky stance, ready to give everything in one final, hopeless stand.

But then—

"What is your name, human?" Thunderwrath asked.



Han blinked.

Is he going to honor me before killing me?

His face remained calm, even as fear churned inside.

"Han," he said quietly.

"Han Trystan."

What happened next was beyond all expectations.

Thunderwrath dropped to one knee—then bowed his head.

"I, Thunderwrath, Spirit of Lightning, swear my loyalty to you, Han Trystan... as my new lord."

A chime echoed in Han’s ears.

System Notification:

You have tamed: Thunderwrath, Spirit of Lightning.

You have acquired the following skills:

Lightning Manipulation – S-Rank (High)

Lightning Bolt – S-Rank (High)

Lightning Dash – S-Rank (Low)

Lightning Burst – S-Rank (High)

Lightning Force: Thunderclap – S-Rank (Peak) (1 use/day)

Lightning Force: Thunder Dome – S-Rank (High) (2 uses/day)

Lightning Force: Thunderstorm – S-Rank (Peak) (1 use/3 days, consumes massive energy)

Han stood speechless. He was stunned about what he was seeing.

The lightning skills granted by Thunderwrath were leagues above what he had received from Ifrit. He had assumed the skill rankings only ranged from Low to High—but now, a new tier had appeared: Peak. And several of Thunderwrath’s techniques held that elite classification.

Among them, the Lightning Force skills stood out. Han could immediately tell—they weren’t just abilities, they were trump cards. Devastating in power but limited in usage. Some could only be used once a day, others once every three days. It made sense now why Thunderwrath hadn’t unleashed Thunderstorm during the battle. That level of destruction likely required more energy than he had left.

The Thunder Dome, on the other hand, seemed built for defense—an electric counterpart to Han’s Flame Shield.

Still... Han couldn’t help but feel overwhelming satisfaction. The power he now held was beyond anything he’d imagined.

Ding!

Lightning Attribute successfully integrated with Jungle Art.

Lightning Style: Jungle Art unlocked.

Han’s eyes widened.

A new evolution. A new path.

He had fused fire and lightning.

---

Meanwhile — Northern Continent

At the very top of a towering spire in the prestigious Silver Guild, the atmosphere was tense.

Seated at the head of the council chamber was a man with flowing silver hair, his face tight with a deep frown. His name was Silver Wing—a legendary Class A Hero and the guild’s supreme leader.



Before him stood several men dressed in ornate, official-looking robes. The air around them reeked of political power. Most were middle-aged, a few noticeably older.

Had Han or Aiden been present, they would have instantly recognized these men—the very same mayors whose unreasonable demands Han had once refused to fulfill.

"You’re certain this... Tryst Guild is responsible for all this chaos?" Silver Wing asked coldly.


They nodded in unison.

The vein in Silver Wing’s temple twitched. His fury simmered just beneath the surface. He found it hard to believe a single upstart guild could be such a nuisance.

He turned sharply to a black-haired man standing beside him—another high-ranking guild officer.

"Gather ten of our top members. Head to this so-called Tryst Guild... and bring them here."

His eyes narrowed.

"Hero guild or not... they won’t go unpunished."

His words echoed like a sentence passed.

---

To be continued...