CHAPTER 944: THIRD LEVEL OF CONCEPT OF LIGHTNING

Just then, the first bolt of lightning tore through the heavens like a divine spear, splitting the air with a deafening crack that seemed to shake the world itself. It was not the wild, untamed lightning of a storm—it was sharp, deliberate, and carried an undeniable will to destroy.

The moment it struck Max, the force of it exploded across his body, wrapping him in a blinding cocoon of purple light. Every arc carried the 3rd level Concept of Lightning, its power refined to a terrifying purity that sought to invade every fiber of his being, sever every nerve, and shatter every cell.

Max’s muscles spasmed violently, but instead of resisting blindly, he let his own lightning surge forth from within, meeting the wraith’s bolt with a clash of pure intent.

’This is nothing!’ Max said gritting his teeth.

The second strike came almost instantly, its speed far beyond mortal comprehension, lancing straight into his chest with such ferocity that even the ground far below quaked from the backlash.

But he held on. His vital essence shell held strong.

The third and fourth bolts followed in rapid succession, weaving down from the clouds like serpents of judgment, striking his shoulders and back, each one exploding with power that carried the taste of inevitability, of fated destruction.

At this moment, the true destruction came. His vital essence shell broke down completely but his skin was tough enough to not cause any damaged to Max.

By the fifth bolt, Max’s skin was burning with arcs of purple light, the air around him screaming as raw lightning wrapped his figure. He was no longer merely enduring—he was studying.

Every time the wraith’s lightning entered his body, he traced its flow, felt the way it bent space for a fraction of a heartbeat before impact, sensed how its energy compressed into a killing edge at the final instant.

There was a reason he didn’t put up any defensive measures against these lightning bolts attacking him. He wanted to feel the lightning essence contain in these lightnings bolts to understand the 3rd level lightning concept.

Otherwise if it were only about surviving the wraith, he would have used his Dragon Scales Transformation or other defensive skills to completely block out the lightning bolts to protect himself.

The sixth and seventh bolts crashed into him almost together, the force so immense that his body was thrown several meters back through the air before he forced himself still, his own lightning roaring outward to anchor him in place.

The eighth bolt came in at an angle, striking his sword arm; instead of recoiling, Max let it flow down his blade, absorbing its fury into his own lightning concept.

The ninth bolt was the heaviest yet, a pillar of purple-white destruction that seemed to connect everything, destruction and rebirth, and when it struck, his entire figure was swallowed in a storm so dense that even the spectators couldn’t see him clearly.

Then, as the echoes of thunder still rolled across the sky, the tenth and final bolt descended—pure, condensed annihilation.

It slammed into Max with enough power to tear apart a mountain, but when the light faded, he was still standing—his body trembling, smoke rising from his skin, but his eyes sharper than ever.

In that relentless barrage, he had seen it—the truth of the 3rd level Concept of Lightning. Not merely speed. Not merely destruction. It was the art of inevitability itself, lightning that could not be dodged, a strike that would always arrive no matter the defense.

"I see..." Max whispered under his breath, the words carrying a strange calm amidst the lingering thunder. In that darkness behind his eyelids, everything aligned—the rhythm of the strikes, the flow of power in each bolt, the way lightning didn’t simply destroy, but connected, split, and shaped the world in an instant.

In his mind, the countless flashes merged into one truth, and like a door unlocking, the understanding poured into him. He no longer just grasped lightning’s speed and violence; he understood its intent, its inevitability, its ability to sever cause from effect in a single blinding heartbeat.

When his eyes opened again, they were no longer the same—purple arcs danced faintly in his irises, and the oppressive aura around him transformed into something infinitely sharper, cleaner, and infinitely more dangerous.

Max had comprehended the 3rd level of the Concept of Lightning.

The air was still thick with the tang of ozone, the ground littered with smoking craters where bolts had struck, and faint threads of purple lightning still slithered through the air before vanishing.

Max exhaled slowly, feeling the last echoes of the lightning’s fury fade within him. "The only thing that remained was space..." he thought, opening his eyes.

His wounds, shallow and deep alike, were already knitting together under the natural resilience of his body caused by his Dragon Scales and the remnants of his overflowing power.

The tattered remains of his clothes clung to him, scorched and torn from the repeated strikes. Without wasting a moment, he reached into his storage space, pulled out a fresh black combat robe, and slipped it on in one smooth motion. All the while, the battlefield remained hidden under a haze of dust and smoke.

Then, a breeze swept across the arena, carrying the dust away. The crowd’s breath collectively caught as Max emerged—standing tall, unharmed, his new robe fluttering in the wind, looking as though he had never been through a storm of ten apocalyptic bolts.

Murmurs broke out instantly.

"He’s... fine?"

"Not even burned—how?"

"This is beyond insane. That lightning could’ve annihilated a Mythic Rank expert!"

"It’s like... he’s getting stronger after every wraith."

Emperor Hermes’s eyes narrowed, but there was a faint smile tugging at his lips. Pride and unease mingled in his gaze.

President William folded his arms, his eyes glittering with rare approval. "Surviving is one thing... but to come out looking like this? The boy’s on a different path altogether."

The Palace Master of the Absolute Sword Palace exhaled heavily. "Three wraiths. Three concepts. All pushed to their peak. This kind of talent... No, this kind of defiance of the heavens—I’ve never seen it in my life."