Yoshika didn’t know how long she’d been meditating. It felt like it had been an eternity, constantly remaking and discarding tiny parts of herself while she slowly, painstakingly compressed the qi in her dantian. All the while, she meditated on her soulscape. She knew that it wasn’t really a place, so much as it was a visual representation of her domain. Everything that made her who she was, represented in a way that her mind could interpret. Now, she was making a conscious effort to understand each facet of it.

Some things were easy to place. The white cat was Jia’s spirit-half, while the rats were Eui’s. Heian was, of course, Heian, while the people in the town represented Yoshikas bonds, past and present—her path of unity. After that, things became more complicated. The town itself resembled the academy, but it didn’t represent it. Yoshika thought that perhaps it was a shelter from some of her darker aspects.

Speaking of her darker aspects, the outside of the town was still a bloody battlefield—though no longer littered with corpses. She wasn’t sure what, exactly, it represented. At first she thought that it was Eui’s sordid past—the trail of bodies she had left in her wake as she fought desperately to survive as a lone bandit in the wilderness—but now she felt it represented something deeper, and intrinsic to both Eui and Jia.

There were other confusing aspects as well. The wintery landscape, which had turned to summer—she could imagine that the summer represented the element of warmth, but why had it been winter before? The starry, moonless sky was another confusing aspect—it wasn’t like it was night in her soulscape, but the stars were always visible. Finally, the icy mirror—which was still present, despite the summer—a frozen lake that reflected aspects of herself without ever showing her own appearance. Yoshika still didn’t know what her own avatar looked like within her soulscape.

She decided to change that. If she was going to understand her soulscape—a representation of herself—then it stood to reason that she would need a clear self-image. Within her soulscape, she stood before the icy mirror, which reflected the white cat, the rats, and Heian. She focused on the mirror, trying to form an image of herself—not Jia or Eui, but Yoshika.

Eventually, the spirits emerged from the mirror. Heian curled up around her feet, one of the rats climbed up onto her shoulder, while the white cat simply stood off to the side and began to groom itself. The image in the mirror was nearly blank, but a blurry figure began to take form as Yoshika focused on it.

She started from the top, with things that were deeply entwined with her identity. Long, straight, black hair—carefully maintained—highlighted by a single streak of pure white, and topped by a pair of white-furred cat ears. Her body was short and slender, mirroring the petite build shared by both Jia and Eui. She had a long, rat-like tail—longer and more flexible than even Eui’s—and her fingers were tipped by sharp, black claws in place of regular fingernails.

Finally, her face. Her eyes had cat-like, vertically slit pupils—one a brilliant crimson, the other a nearly glowing golden color. Behind her eyes, streaks of purple lightning could be seen alongside fractal, angular lines of red which appeared and disappeared in a mesmerizing pattern. Her brand was not part of her—like Qin’s seal, it was something that had been thrust upon her. In its place, an obsidian horn curved upwards—identical to the one she had seen on the ‘demonic’ representation of Eui.

Yoshika regarded herself in the mirror. It felt incomplete, somehow—it was her, but something was missing. The more she tried to think about it, the further away that missing piece seemed to slip. After a while, she gave up and settled for clothing herself. At first, she thought she would envision herself wearing the green robes of the academy, but instead she ended up with something completely different.

The long, flowing dress robes were in a style she had never seen before, colored white and light blue. A sheer, purple scarf flowed loosely around her body, weaving between her arms and over her shoulders. The outfit gave her a strange, ephemeral—almost heavenly appearance that was at odds with the glossy black horn and claws. Still, it felt right somehow, like the robes were a part of her that she had been missing—though not the entirety of it.

At nearly the same time as she had completed her self image, she reached a critical point in her breakthrough. The qi that she had been slowly, carefully compressing suddenly imploded within her dantian, crushing down into a tiny, solid bead of qi—her core. This had a cascading effect, as her ability to manipulate essence instantly improved by an order of magnitude, and the almost impossibly delicate work she had been doing to recreate parts of her body with ki became as simple as breathing.

Yoshika had what could only be described as a flash of insight—a sudden realization of a truth that had seemed impossible to reach before. Her domain, what it represented to her, and the deeper meaning of that representation—what it meant for the influence she had on the world around her. For just a moment, she understood all of it with perfect clarity, and as that clarity began to fade, she desperately held on to as much of the understanding as she could.

All of the pieces came together for her at that moment. The essence of the world, the way cultivation changed her, and the way her cultivation allowed her to shape the world in turn. There was a divine spark within her, and that spark was what allowed her not only to transform herself, but to shape the universe in her own image. She focused as hard as she could on her rapidly fading comprehension of that divine spark, on her own imperfect existence, and on the idealized self-image that she had created.

With monumental effort, Yoshika harnessed that divine spark, and transformed a tiny, infinitesimal part of herself into that idealized, perfect version of who she was.

Then, her entire world exploded.

The three deans of the Grand Academy of Spiritual, Martial, and Arcane Arts stood together staring up at the dark cloud gathering overhead. With them were Grand Magus Do Hye, Murayoshi, and a small gathering of very worried looking girls. They stood at the edge of a small courtyard in the girls’ dormitories—the dorm house to which Lee Jia, An Eui, and Yan Yue had been assigned.

Elder Qin Zhao scowled at the sky as if it had personally insulted him—though that wasn’t far off from his resting expression.

“Magi Hwang and Do, I would request your assistance in preparing a four point barrier formation around this courtyard. We must prepare to mitigate any potential collateral damage.”

Hwang Sung grimaced, while Do Hye simply stroked his chin thoughtfully.

“A four point barrier would serve to protect the surrounding dorms, but I’m afraid it won’t do anything for Miss Lee and Miss An.”

Elder Qin shook his head.

“There is nothing that can be done. The best we can hope for is that they do not bring the rest of the academy down with them.”

There was a cry of dismay as the girls clamored to protest and Master Ienaga Yumi shot Qin Zhao a baleful look.

“That’s no way to speak of your students, Qin. Why can’t we protect them from this?”

Qin Zhao narrowed his eyes at Ienaga Yumi.

“Did you not experience a tribulation during your breakthrough to the xiantian realm? You should know this.”

Ienaga’s face began to redden, but Murayoshi spoke up for the first time since the arrival of the instructors.

“There was extenuatin' circumstances. Best not ask further, it’s a state secret.”

Qin raised an eyebrow but didn’t pry further.

“Then for the benefit of the eavesdropping students, allow me to elaborate—a heavenly tribulation cannot be stopped. The cleansing flame of the heavens will strike again and again until its wrath has been expended upon the one who incited it. Even if I were to stop one of the lightning bolts myself, another would strike, twice as strong.”

Yan Yue called out from the group of students.

“What about formations? I’ve heard of cultivators using powerful artifacts and formations to mitigate the effects of tribulations. Our Coiling Dragon Peak has an enormous one.”

Qin Zhao scowled at the disciple speaking out of turn, but took it upon himself to educate her anyway.

“Such artifacts must be bound to the user’s qi. The formation you describe was created by Yan De himself over a decade of effort, and protects only him. By whatever metric the heavens use to determine such things, the formation is recognized as being part of him.”

“I’ve always theorized that there must be some kind of grand formation surrounding the world that—”

All the instructors glared at Do Hye, who coughed once and apologized for the interjection. Elder Qin shook his head ruefully.

“As I was saying, a tribulation cannot be stopped, delayed, or hidden from. It must be resisted, and only by one’s own efforts.”

Another disciple, Takeda Rika, called out in protest.

“But that’s not fair! Yoshika had no idea this was going to happen! They didn’t have a chance to prepare! Can’t we at least warn them somehow?”

Magus Hwang Sung shook his head with a dour expression.

“I’m afraid not, young lady. Miss Lee and Miss An are far too deep in meditation, and breaking them out of it now could set back all of the efforts they’ve made since they began, or worse—cause severe backlash. All without actually stopping the tribulation from happening. It would ruin whatever slim chance they have of surviving.”

Elder Qin held up a hand, and the chatter ceased. He wasn’t above the other deans, but they respected both his venerable age and his expertise.

“Enough! They will either survive by their own efforts—and become stronger for it—or their efforts will be insufficient, and they will die. It is out of our hands. We haven’t the time to waste squabbling about it—the tribulation could strike at any moment.”

Without any further argument, Qin Zhao and the two magi got to work inscribing a barrier formation on the walls of the courtyard. A protective formation, not to keep Yoshika safe from things outside of it, but to keep the things outside of it safe from what would happen within.

Jia and Eui’s friends stared up at the ominous cloud, slowly swirling as it gathered power. Soon, they were ushered out by Master Ienaga—it wasn’t safe for them to stay nearby.

Nearly a week later, the cloud had grown significantly, and still it showed no signs of striking. He didn’t allow it to show on his face, but Elder Qin Zhao was beginning to grow concerned. He turned to the only other person present—Grand Magus Do Hye.

“We should reinforce the barrier. This tribulation is unusually powerful for cultivators of their strength.”

The Snake gave Qin Zhao a sidelong glance, frowning.

“Based on what precedent? Have you any previous experience with heavenly tribulations of houtian cultivators? Dual cultivators? Unified cultivators? Demons? Whatever Miss Lee has—”

“Enough! You have made your point, Grand Magus. You are correct that this is unprecedented. However, I would estimate this tribulation as rivalling that of a xiantian cultivator completing the formation of a divine core—at its current strength. We have no way to know how much stronger it will become, and given the uncertain nature of what we are dealing with, we should prepare for the worst.”

Do Hye grunted in acknowledgement.

“Hrm, fair enough, but I’m afraid that the barrier is already reinforced to the best of my ability—which is to say, to the best of anyone’s ability. What else would you have us do? We’ve already evacuated the students from the adjacent dorms and sealed the surrounding area. You know as well as I do that there’s nothing left but to wait.

“Come to think of it, it’s only been a month since she began her breakthrough, hasn’t it? We could be waiting for quite some time!”

Qin Zhao grimaced, irritated both by the Grand Magus’ lackadaisical attitude, and the fact that he was right.

“Do not act as though you have no stake in this, Do Hye. Our agreement—”

“I’m well aware of what’s riding on this, Qin Zhao. Have a little faith! Do you really think those girls are destined to meet their end here? When have I ever failed to deliver my part of the bargain, eh?”

Qin Zhao narrowed his eyes at The Snake.

“Yan Zhihao.”

Do Hye scoffed and waved his hand.

“Bah! A blip! An insignificant speck hardly even worth accounting for. I understand that he was your disciple, but his death had nothing to do with anything—it just happened! Unfortunate to be certain, but not important.”

Qin Zhao sneered at Do Hye.

“Perhaps not to you, but I do not take disciples lightly. The only reason you still stand is because Yan Zhihao’s death was primarily caused by his own foolishness. Should either Lee Jia or An Eui become further casualties of your machinations, I will destroy you. Even if it means breaking my bonds, even if I am to be rent asunder and scattered to the four winds, I will bring ruin to you and everything you stand for.”

“Ohoho! How terrifying! Well then, I hope the girls manage to pull through, for both our sakes!”

Qin Zhao turned away as Do Hye chuckled to himself, feeling the new bond form within his domain, becoming part of him. Another shackle, but also a source of power. He hoped it would be enough, when the time came.

With one last disgusted glance at the Grand Magus, Qin Zhao allowed his avatar to disperse, manifesting himself elsewhere within his domain—his private office. Once there, he carefully retracted his domain until it encompassed only the relatively small workspace. Only then, in complete privacy and without anyone in harm's way, did he allow himself a small outburst of emotion.

“Damn that Snake! Damn my idiot grandfather, and damn the accursed gods that abandoned this world!”

He regretted ever meeting The Snake, regretted learning of the true fate of the world, and most of all regretted his own arrogance in thinking that he of all people would be the one to change it.

After one more week, the first bolt struck.

Pain! Unimaginable, gut-wrenching pain. The sound of the blast alone was enough to rupture Yoshika’s organs and drive the air from her lungs. Time froze as Yoshika reflexively put every ounce of her concentration into Absolute Awareness, expanding her domain as far as it would go. Her domain was stopped by some kind of barrier that had been drawn around the courtyard, but went unimpeded as it extended far into the sky—much further than she had expected.

What she saw terrified her. A single bolt of lightning, stretching as far into the sky as her domain could go and beyond, as thick as a tree—and it had struck her. Was striking her. Her robes had already been burned away to nothing, as had the skin and a disturbing layer of flesh on both of her bodies. The pain was unbelievable, and her Absolute Awareness hadn’t made it stop. If anything, it was even worse—as if every nerve and every meridian had her full and undivided attention.

How in the names of all the ancestors was she going to survive this? For that matter, how was she thinking through it? She had to assume that her breakthrough had been successful, and that her mental faculties had been vastly improved if she was able to maintain her concentration despite the exquisite pain and extreme damage she was suffering.

As if the attack on her body wasn’t enough, the lightning was flooding her meridians as well, threatening to burn them away like it did her skin and robes. It reminded her somewhat of her Lightning God Transformation technique—had she struck a nerve somewhere? She mentally apologized to whatever lightning god she had angered—it was just a name!

She doubted that her prayers would be answered, so she instead turned her thoughts to survival. She was certain that both the physical and spiritual damage would be fatal if left unchecked, but the attack was still ongoing. First she needed to find a way to stop the bolt from doing any more damage, then she needed to deal with the energy invading her meridians, and then she could start healing herself.

Even just that first step seemed pretty insurmountable, but if it was between that or death, Yoshika would rise to the challenge. Somehow. She took stock of her surroundings. She couldn’t actually see—her eyes had been destroyed, of course—but she could sense the entire garden within her domain. It had been completely destroyed, even the patio that the formation had been drawn on was shattered.

Everything except the walls. The walls had been reinforced by some kind of barrier with a hopelessly complex four-point formation. Yoshika doubted that she’d be able to make use of that. Her talismans—had completely disintegrated along with her robes. Only her ring had managed to survive the blast, and it didn’t have anything useful within it. Yoshika cursed herself for not storing her talismans safely within the artifact—she was going to have to do this with only whatever power she could muster up, but what did she have that could stop lightning?

Yoshika raised Eui’s arms—what was left of them—and began to channel as much destruction essence through them as she could manage. If her own lightning could neutralize the destructive essence from Eui’s core, then why not the opposite? It required her to channel an absurd amount of power, but it worked—the bolt of lightning dissipated harmlessly as it came into contact with the flood of destructive essence from Eui’s body. It was a temporary reprieve, however, as Eui was running out of power much faster than the lightning bolt was.

It would have to do—Yoshika took advantage of the reprieve to focus on the internal damage. Everything that had happened since awakening from her breakthrough had taken place in the span of a fraction of an eyeblink, but already the lightning had rampaged through her meridians and threatened to wreak havoc on the newly formed core in her dantian. Yoshika cursed internally as she recalled her training against spiritual attacks.

This was the kind of spiritual attack that didn’t aim for finesse or subtlety—it just rampaged aimlessly through the meridians and did whatever damage it could. The doctrine on defending against such attacks was to block them entirely, but it was far too late for that now. Instead, Yoshika was forced to consider how to neutralize such an attack after it had already invaded her meridians.

Her first thought was to try neutralizing it like she had the external part of the lightning bolt, but Eui’s hands were already full, and she couldn’t spare a single mote of destruction essence from the already distressingly short-lived stopgap. She realized that her corrosive aura would have been perfect for defending against the lightning, if only she’d had time to prepare. As it was, her meridians were already flooded and she had no way of moving the qi through the necessary meridians to activate her technique.

Just when she was starting to lose hope, she felt a familiar pulse from her demonic core—no, not the demonic core, this time it came from Jia’s body. The lightning element core reached out almost independently of Yoshika’s will, and began to draw in the foreign essence rampaging through her meridians. In the blink of an eye, the lightning within Jia’s body had been absorbed, and her core was several times larger.

Unfortunately, that didn’t do anything for Eui’s body, but with Jia’s meridians cleared, she was able to activate Corruption of the Fetid Bog, and for the first time since she’d started practicing the technique, she focused its effects on herself—Eui’s body, specifically. The results were better than she could have hoped for. Not only did the elements of corrosion and lightning cancel each other out, but the end result was perfectly balanced mana that was hers. Extra essence that she desperately needed to maintain the haphazard shield of destruction that was protecting her from the seemingly inexhaustible power of the heavens.

Also, essence that she would need in order to heal herself. She hadn’t forgotten about the lethal injuries she’d sustained from the initial strike—the constant pain was a sharp reminder. Yet there was no way that she’d be able to keep this up. The destruction shield was too inefficient and her injuries were too severe—she’d run out of resources long before the lightning bolt did. She needed something else to tip the balance.

At that moment, Yoshika made a very difficult decision. She needed to be able to move one of her bodies properly—but only one of them. The time and essence it would take to heal both would be too costly, and Eui’s body was already occupied by holding off the lightning bolt. With a heavy heart, Yoshika focused her Tranquility of the Verdant Marsh technique entirely on healing Jia’s body. She didn’t heal herself up to perfect health, just enough to regain fine motor control and vision.

She needed a more efficient way to block the lightning bolt, and that meant a formation. They weren’t her strongest area, but even a basic shielding formation would be better than dumping raw essence into the air. Reaching out with her domain, Yoshika could sense that there was still an abundance of earth and water mana in the air leftover from the formation she had used while breaking through. She called some of that earth mana to herself, focusing it on the tip of one of Jia’s claws as she desperately scrawled a spell into the ground beneath her.

This was the technique for quick-casting a spell without a talisman. She’d never tried it before, and it was usually considered a xiantian exclusive technique, but it was currently her only hope, as she didn’t have time to power a talisman the old-fashioned way. She finished the inscription and immediately pushed as much earth mana into it as she could, activating a basic wall formation.

She was beyond glad that she had taken the time to learn that spell as a solid floor of stone appeared beneath her—a canvas upon which to draw her new formation. Yoshika was running out of time as she urgently called on the remaining water and earth mana within her domain, focusing it into the pattern of the formation she wanted to draw. She didn’t have time to scratch the formation into the stone with her bare hands, so she could only pray that what she was doing would work. Once the mana was in the pattern she desired, she sent out a burst of her own essence—almost pure Yin mana—into the combined earth and water mana.

In an instant, the mana combined into a corrosive acid, etching the formation into the semi-physical floor of conjured stone. The formation was exactly as Yoshika wanted it—a formation version of the variable mana shield that had given her so much trouble against Sun Jaehwa. It would conjure a shield out of whatever element was pushed into it.

Without hesitation, Yoshika redirected Eui’s destructive essence into the formation. Normally, a shield of destruction would be an insane notion, as the element would simply cause a deadly explosion once used to power the formation, but the power of the lightning bolt was so great that the destruction element was being neutralized before it had time to react.

Finally, the balance tipped in Yoshika’s favor as she just barely reached a point of equilibrium. She could sustain her defense while she healed her injuries, and cultivated just enough energy to keep up both efforts. It was a narrow thing—she wouldn’t be able to do it forever, but as the lightning bolt spent itself, she knew that she’d last long enough. Barely.

After what felt like hours, but had probably actually been less than a second of real time, the lightning bolt finally ran out of power. Yoshika was exhausted, naked, completely out of energy, and still quite severely injured—though she’d managed to heal herself enough that those injuries were no longer life threatening.

She lay on the stone, panting for breath, too tired to be concerned about her lack of dress. She began to giggle manically. She had survived! Somehow, against all odds, she had survived—whatever that was. Why had she been struck by lightning!? Why was it so ridiculously powerful? She was pretty certain normal lightning bolts weren’t like that.

She heard a distant rumble as the familiar voice of Elder Qin Zhao broke her out of her reverie.

“Stop relaxing, you fools! It’s not over yet!”