The air was thick with tension inside the Falling Sky Sect's training grounds. Disciples gathered in murmurs, eyes fixed on the outer sect rat who had begun cultivating at a frightening speed.
Wang Chung stood at the center, his body humming with energy no one had seen from him before. The Void Palm fragments within him crackled like a storm, breaking through the barriers of his crippled meridians.
"Impossible," whispered one disciple, watching as Wang Chung's Qi surged past the limits of ordinary cultivators.
He clenched his fists, feeling the seal inside his mind weakening. Memories surged like tidal waves—visions of cosmic battles, celestial blades, and a throne made of stars.
"Void Sovereign," Wang Chung muttered under his breath, the name feeling both foreign and like home.
He channeled the Void Palm once again, sending a shockwave that shattered the stone pillars lining the courtyard.
Gasps erupted.
Elder Jian's eyes narrowed behind his jade mask. This can't be happening so soon.
Xian Yu appeared at Wang Chung's side. "You're breaking through faster than I anticipated. But you must control it."
Wang Chung nodded. "Control? No. I will master it. And I will rise."
The path ahead was brutal, but the crippled boy was gone. In his place stood a storm ready to tear down the heavens.