Lei stepped into the final portal—and vanished into chaos.
He was instantly flung through a raging storm. Winds howled like wolves, tearing at his robes and tossing him across a sky with no ground, no direction—just endless gales and flashes of lightning that illuminated fragments of floating mountains and shattered skybridges.
The Realm of Wind was raw freedom… and violent uncertainty.
"Wind flows without roots," came the voice again, softer this time. "Can you master what cannot be held?"
Lei twisted in midair, controlling his descent with bursts of lightning Qi. He landed on a fragment of floating stone—but it crumbled beneath him. He leapt, dashing from fragment to fragment, the world spinning wildly.
Every move he made was challenged by the winds—testing his balance, his speed, his decisions.
Then he heard it—laughter.
A shadowy figure stepped from the whirlwind, his face partially hidden by a fox-like mask. His robes were simple, but his aura… it was ancient.
"You've done well, Lei," the man said, floating with ease. "But the wind doesn't just test your strength. It reveals what follows you."
Lei narrowed his eyes. "Who are you?"
"I am one who was once rejected by the heavens too. The Fallen Root you carry… isn't the only one."
Before Lei could react, the man surged forward. Their clash split the sky.
Lei blocked the strike barely in time—Qi flared between them, sharp as daggers. The masked figure wasn't trying to kill him. He was testing him.
"You are not yet ready for the truth," the figure said, pushing Lei back. "But the storm will follow you now. You've passed the trial. For now."
With that, the winds calmed, and the portal home appeared.
As Lei stepped through, bruised and breathless, he realized something had changed. Within him, the Fallen Root pulsed—not just with power, but with a sense of… recognition. Like it had met its kin.