Minutes stretched into hours as Calen lingered in the crypt, mourning his father. At last, he stored Sun Blazer within his pocket realm and rose. His tears had not dried, but his resolve blazed brighter than ever.
His spirit sense unfurled, locking onto familiar signatures within the Wyatt Clan compound. Without hesitation, he soared across the skies, descending upon the estate like a falling sun—slipping past every defensive formation unseen.
Hunter was the first to be targeted. Alone in cultivation, he suddenly felt as though cast into a fiery pit. His eyes snapped open—Calen stood before him, radiant as judgment itself. Panic twisted his features as his whole life flashed before his eyes. Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined that the boy once mocked as trash would one day radiate sovereign might.
"You…" Hunter's voice cracked. Then his body ignited beneath the glow of Calen's eyes. One scream—and then disintegration. Flesh and bone reduced to ash, dust scattered across the floor. Guards and elders rushed in too late, their patriarch erased in an instant. Terror gripped them as they tried to comprehend what had happened.
Calen had already moved on to his next targets. He found the two elders complicit in his father's death. They sat in meditation, unaware of their doom. Calen did not speak. He did not hesitate. Solar fire burst forth, swallowing them whole. Their cries echoed briefly, then silence. Their bodies collapsed into charred husks, lifeless and forgotten.
But Horace… Horace would not be granted a swift end. For the years of torment he inflicted on Calen's mother, he would suffer.
While he was lost in indulgence, Calen seized him and hurled him into the heart of the clan courtyard, where disciples trained under the watchful eyes of Gold Realm elders. The humiliating sight jolted everyone present, yet none dared intervene—Calen's dominance was absolute.
Whispers rippled through the crowd:
"Isn't that the trash of the Wyatt Clan, the son of the former patriarch?"
"Yes… but look at him. His essence reveals he's only nineteen, and yet he tosses the patriarch's son—a Gold Realm cultivator—aside like an insect."
"Are you certain this is the same pathetic brat we used to bully?"
"Quiet. If he notices us, we're finished."
The murmurs faded, but the shock lingered. Minds reeled at the impossible truth: the boy they had scorned had returned, no longer weak, but reborn as a sovereign monster of light.
Horace staggered back, pallid and drenched in sweat. The bravado he once wore like armor had long since rotted into fear. He remembered the ruined wedding, the humiliation he inflicted on Calen's mother, the sneering certainty that the boy would never rise. That illusion shattered now, under the weight of a presence that eclipsed the sun itself.
He tried to flee, but Calen's aura crushed him to the stones. His knees buckled, his body trembling, urine staining the courtyard floor.
Golden fire coiled around Horace—not devouring, but constricting. It slithered into his meridians, seared his veins, and pressed against his dantian with merciless force. His scream tore through the courtyard, shrill and broken, as his cultivation unraveled thread by thread. The brilliance of his core shattered like glass beneath a hammer, leaving only ruin.
But his suffering didn't end there. Calen bound Horace's spirit sense, twisting it so that even the release of death was denied. His mind was shackled, his will bent, leaving him trapped in endless torment. He would live broken, impotent, and unable to end his suffering.
No one below the Transcendent Realm could ever restore him. And even if such a figure tried, Calen had already branded Horace with a hidden mark—an unbreakable tether to his will. Should anyone attempt salvation, Calen would know instantly, and Horace's body would detonate in a blaze of golden fire.
Horace lay twitching, sobbing, his spirit crumbled into ruin. Calen's voice cut through the silence, low and final:
"This is justice."
He turned away. The Wyatt Clan's disciples parted before him, heads bowed, eyes wide with terror. None dared meet his gaze.
Calen let his aura flare one last time, pressing down on the crowd. Disciples and elders alike collapsed to their knees, blood spilling from their lips as they prostrated before him. It was his final act of vengeance—for every humiliation, every insult, every scar of the past. More mercy than they ever showed him.
Then, without another word, he rose into the sky and flew from the courtyard, leaving behind only the ashes of retribution.
Two days later, Calen arrived on the Great Wave Continent. More specifically, he stood outside the Raine Sect, nestled deep within the eastern range. Though his cultivation was strong enough to bypass barriers and force entry, he chose restraint. Politeness mattered. He followed every procedure, every formality, until at last he stood before the Raine Clan's patriarch and two of the sect's five Immortal Realm pillars, Dalton and Sora.
Patriarch Shanell greeted him personally. Her aura was sharp, refined, and firmly rooted at the peak of the Immortal Realm. She studied Calen carefully, unsettled by the fact that she could not pierce his cultivation veil. Curiosity flickered in her eyes—who was this young man who carried himself with such calm authority?
Then Sun Blazer pulsed within Calen's pocket realm, jolting him toward a familiar presence that had just entered the hall. White‑blond hair. A lean frame. Storm‑gray eyes burning with quiet intensity.
Though Calen had met Lloyd only once before at the Flare Palace gathering, he held nothing but respect for him. After all, this man was his master's brother, his senior despite cultivation etiquette—and now, the one carrying his father's spirit core.
Calen bowed deeply. "Greetings, Uncle," he said with utmost respect.
Shanell's and the two elders' eyes narrowed slightly. Uncle? That single word shifted everything. If this mysterious youth called Elder Lloyd family, then he was no enemy of the Raine Clan—perhaps even an ally.
Lloyd's brows lifted. "Calen? What brings you here? Is something wrong in the Flare State?"
"No," Calen assured him, his tone steady. "I came to meet with you." In truth, Sun Blazer had guided him here, leading him to the source of his father's spirit core—shockingly, it turned out to be his uncle.
"Is there somewhere we can speak in private?" Calen asked.
"Of course. Let's go," Lloyd replied.
Calen turned back to Shanell and the elders, bowing with respect. "Patriarch, elders—thank you for your time."
With that, he followed Lloyd out of the hall, leaving behind a silence heavy with curiosity and speculation.