CHAPTER 210: NASCENT SOUL STAGE

Back at the carvern outside the outskirts of Blinding Town where mayor Everlyn left Hutton and the others.

The sound of dripping water echoed softly across the dark stone walls. Flickering light bulbs set up by Bob cast uneven shadows, barely keeping the space lit. The air was still — until suddenly, it wasn’t.

A faint tremor coursed through the ground, followed by a ripple of Qi energy so dense that it made the lantern flames waver violently.

Boma, who had been meditating near the cavern entrance, snapped his eyes open instantly. "What the hell—?"

Julian stood up from where he’d been cleaning a weapon. "It’s him again," he said, his voice sharp as he turned toward the source. "It’s coming from Hutton."

At the center of the cavern, Hutton Maxwell lay motionless on a rough bed of cloth and rock — still unconscious since the explosion that destroyed the previous cave. But now, the air around him shimmered faintly, distorting as waves of invisible power pulsed outward.

Bob stumbled backward, clutching his chest as the pressure grew heavier. "No way— this Qi... it’s crushing!"

Cracks spread across the cavern floor beneath Hutton’s body as if the earth itself struggled to contain what was inside him. His skin gleamed faintly under the flickering light, a radiant golden glow seeping from his pores.

Julian gritted his teeth, his own Qi flaring defensively. "Even without a World Vein nearby... he’s still drawing in energy from the atmosphere? That’s impossible."

"There is only one reason why this is happening" Boma suddenly said and he looked at Bob, it seems like they were both thinking of the same thing as Bob quickly replied.

"No, that’s impossible! It’s still too early for him"

But Boma moved closer, shielding his face from the swirling gusts of spiritual pressure. "It’s not just energy," he muttered, his voice filled with awe. "It’s evolution."

The energy peaked suddenly — a thunderous pulse that made the entire cavern quake. Dust rained from the ceiling as at this point Bob, Boma, and Julian quickly abandoned the gadgets that were there and threw up Qi barriers to shield themselves from the shockwave.

And then — silence.

The glowing light around Hutton flickered... then faded. His breathing slowed, returning to a steady rhythm.

"...Is it over?" Bob whispered cautiously, lowering his guard.

Before anyone could answer, Hutton’s eyes shot open. A faint golden radiance lingered within his pupils, swirling like a miniature storm. He blinked slowly, disoriented at first, before his expression sharpened as memories flashed through his mind while his pupils slowly came back to normal.

Julian stepped forward carefully. "Welcome back, Hutton."

Hutton sat up slowly, clutching his head as if hearing echoes in his mind. "How long... was I out?"

Boma replied, "Three days. We thought the explosion killed you."

Hutton chuckled faintly — though the sound carried a strange depth now. "It almost did."

He looked down at his hands. They trembled slightly, but the Qi surging within him was different — vast, steady, alive. The realization hit him like lightning.

"I advanced..." he murmured, eyes widening. "I’ve reached the Nascent Soul stage."

The others stared in stunned silence. Bob let out a low whistle. "You mean—right here? In this dead cave with no World Vein?"

"Seems like fate doesn’t care about location," Julian said quietly, folding his arms.

Boma gave a small smirk. "Or maybe the universe’s scared of what happens if this guy dies before his time."

Hutton smiled faintly, standing up despite the faint soreness in his limbs. The golden glint that was still in his eyes dimmed to a calm hue. "Whatever the reason... we can’t stay here. The surge from earlier wasn’t subtle. Someone will have sensed it."

Bob sighed heavily, grabbing his gear. "Great. From one hole to another."

Julian sheathed his blade, looking to Hutton. "Where do we go now?"

Hutton’s gaze hardened. "Back to Blinding Town. There are answers — and debts — waiting there."

----

The capital city gleamed in the distance beneath a golden dusk, its skyline glowing like molten glass. But far away from the hum of traffic and noise stood a sprawling mansion that could only belong to one of America’s true apex families — the Dorne Family.

It wasn’t merely a house; it was a fortress of elegance and power. A fusion of classical European architecture and modern technological genius. Ivory-white columns framed the main building, with chrome-tinted windows that mirrored the setting sun. The Dorne crest — a silver phoenix wrapped around a blazing orb — shimmered on the front gates, glowing faintly with embedded runic energy fields that would repel even a Nascent Soul cultivator if unwelcome.

Manicured gardens extended for acres, with small lakes and sculpture gardens flanking the cobblestone paths. But the estate’s beauty masked something else — a silence so heavy it was almost sacred. The kind of quiet that only existed in places where the powerful demanded reverence.

Inside the main hall, the atmosphere was nothing short of suffocating.

At the far end of the hall sat Lord Aurelian Dorne, the Head of the Dorne Family, known across the country as "The Golden Sovereign." He was a man who embodied the phrase calm before the storm — mid-forties in appearance but ageless in presence, dressed in a crisp black suit with silver-threaded insignias. His aura was so refined that the energy in the room bent subtly around him.

Seated beside him were a few of his core retainers — elders, advisors, and the family’s military strategist — all tense and unmoving.

The double doors creaked open.

A man entered, his coat slightly torn, his face pale from exhaustion. He was the Dorne family’s representative who had been dispatched to Blinding Town — Vice Commander Russell Vayne. Despite being a cultivator at the peak of the Core Formation stage, he looked like someone who had faced something far beyond his rank.

He knelt immediately, bowing his head low.

"My Lord... I have returned."

Lord Aurelian didn’t speak right away. His eyes, deep and unreadable, flicked toward the kneeling man. "You look as though you’ve crawled out of a grave, Russell."

Russell’s throat bobbed as he swallowed hard. "It would’ve been a mercy if it were only that, my Lord."

The tension in the room tightened. Aurelian leaned slightly forward, resting his elbow on the armrest. "Then speak."

Russell drew in a sharp breath. "Blinding Town... it’s gone. The town still stands, but its spirit — its calm — is destroyed. The military and media swarmed the area before I even arrived. What I found..." He trailed off, trembling slightly.

"Go on," Aurelian said coldly.

Russell closed his eyes for a moment, then forced himself to continue. "There was a battle, my Lord. The energy signatures — they were catastrophic. I detected remnants of your son’s Qi pattern at the site... along with traces of a foreign power that doesn’t belong to any known element."

The room went deathly still.

Every elder’s gaze shifted to Aurelian, whose fingers slowly curled on the armrest. "...You mean to tell me," he said quietly, "that my son’s Qi was left behind — because he fell there?"

Russell lowered his head even further, his voice breaking slightly. "Yes, my Lord. His energy was completely snuffed out. I... I believe the Young Master is dead."

The silence that followed wasn’t natural — it was crushing.

A faint pulse of spiritual pressure erupted from Aurelian’s body. The marble floor beneath his chair cracked like glass.

The elders dared not move.

For several long seconds, the head of the Dorne Family simply sat there, motionless — as though frozen in disbelief. Then, slowly, he rose to his feet.

His eyes, golden as molten metal, glowed faintly with restrained fury. "My son... was the future of this family. You’re certain?"

Russell nodded, trembling. "I double-checked the residual signature with the data stored in our archives. There’s no doubt. The Young Master died at the hands of another cultivator. From what I could deduce... he was overwhelmed by someone who has only recently entered the Nascent Soul stage."

Murmurs filled the room immediately.

"What kind of cultivator could rise that fast in America?"

"Impossible — no new Nascent Soul has been reported in the East Coast region for decades!"

"Could this be the same anomaly the agencies mentioned after the explosion?"

Aurelian silenced them with a single motion of his hand.

His gaze turned to the massive wall-sized window, where the setting sun cast a crimson hue over the city. "Find out who it was," he said, his voice smooth — almost too calm. "I don’t care if it takes every resource the family possesses. I want the name of the one who killed my son."

Russell bowed deeply. "Yes, my Lord."

But before he could turn to leave, Aurelian added, almost absently, "And Russell..."

"Yes, my Lord?"

Aurelian looked down at him, and for a fleeting moment, his composed expression twisted — pain, grief, and wrath flickering all at once. "The next time you kneel before me, you will either bring me the killer’s head — or your own."

Russell froze, then nodded shakily. "Understood."

As he left the hall, the oppressive silence lingered.

Behind Aurelian, one of the elders — a silver-haired woman with sharp eyes — spoke cautiously. "My Lord... what if the killer is affiliated with one of the other World Class Families?"

Aurelian’s expression didn’t change. He clasped his hands behind his back, staring out at the horizon. "Then," he said softly, "this world will remember what happens when you touch a Dorne."

Outside, the mansion’s automatic lights flickered on as night fell — their glow reflecting off the phoenix crest above the gates. The symbol’s silver shimmer turned blood-red under the evening sky.

Inside, Aurelian’s aura surged again for just a heartbeat, sending an invisible wave through the entire estate — a silent declaration of vengeance that made even the most distant retainers shudder.

The Golden Sovereign had just lost his youngest son.

And for the first time in twenty years, the Dorne Family was preparing for war.