In the evening, everything went on as usual.

Our room in the lodging was filled with the warm glow of lamplight and the richer glow of victory. Since I had done well in the tournament today, we were quietly celebrating with a modest feast of bread, stew, and a bit of sweet cake Mira had bought from the market.

I lay sprawled on a new makeshift floor-bed, a pile of soft blankets Sali arranged for me, contentedly gnawing on a strip of roasted meat.

Life was good.

Across the table, Mira was being her usual annoying self, going on a tirade of who to watch out for tomorrow.

On the other hand, Rinvara and Sali had been talking quietly between Mira's lively chatter, and I noticed Rinvara's hand resting lightly on Sali's arm in a comforting gesture. Without my notice, she and Sali had grown closer by the day.

They shared stories of Sunmire and swapped gentle teasing about my childhood.

There was a newfound sisterly bond forming there that made me oddly happy.

Mira launched into another entrant's history, and I let her voice wash over me, half listening and half drifting into my own thoughts. With my belly pleasantly full and the comforting background noise, I felt myself dozing.

My eyes drooped as I chewed slowly on the last of the meat.

A lazy satisfaction settled in my chest.

In that lull, I did what had become second nature to me. I cultivated.

I guided the flow of Qi through my body, circulating the energy in a steady rhythm.

Normally, this exercise was calming, a nightly routine to refine my strength. I wasn't expecting anything dramatic; in fact, I was barely conscious of the process, the same way one might continue breathing or dreaming.

Tonight, however, something felt different. The Qi within me suddenly became more active than usual. The energy in my core swirled with unusual vigor.

In my half-dreaming state, I felt a subtle pressure building inside me, like water rising behind a dam.

At first, I paid it little mind. The sensation of approaching a bottleneck in cultivation was familiar, and I had been hovering at the peak of my current phase for a while now. Upper-Phase 6.

It was a plateau I'd been trying to overcome, but I certainly hadn't expected to break through on a cozy evening like this.

From what I experienced before, the best thing for me to do was to find a safe location first to ensure bystanders weren't implicated in the upcoming challenge.

The pressure built had suddenly slammed open, snapping me out of my drowsiness. My eyes shot closed. Inside my chest, the dam of resistance shattered without warning. A flood of Qi rushed through my body.

It felt as if an invisible wall inside me had just crumbled. Warmth and power flooded every muscle, every bone. My heart thundered in my ears.

I didn't really understand how it happened. I hadn't meant to break through. Yet unmistakably, I had.

The ambient sounds of the room muffled; Mira's voice, mid-rant about someone's sword technique, became distant. The gentle breathing of Sali and Rinvara beside her was suddenly quieter than a whisper.

And underneath those sounds was something else, a faint rumble.

Heavenly Tribulation.

By breaking through a critical wall in cultivation, I had unwittingly called down the judgment of the heavens.

A trial by storm and lightning meant to test those who dared to grasp greater power. I had originally planned to go to a remote spot to face my tribulation.

Thunder rumbled again, louder this time, and a fork of brilliant white lightning cracked across the sky, illuminating our tiny room for an instant.

*****

A massive storm cloud gathered over the entire city, appearing out of nowhere from a clear night sky with almost no warning. In minutes, the stars and moonlight vanished behind roiling black clouds veined with flickers of blue light. The sudden darkness and booming thunder sent citizens into a panic.

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Shopkeepers shuttered their windows, late-night street vendors quickly closed stalls, and people in the taverns and markets spilled out onto the streets to gape at the unnatural tempest above.

Wind howled through the narrow alleys, sending debris skittering, and an ominous pressure exhumed from the skies.

High atop the Adventurer's Guild headquarters, alarms began to ring.

A deep, clanging bell that signaled a city-wide emergency. The Guild's upper echelons sprang into action immediately. This sort of phenomenon was unheard of under normal conditions, and their first thought was the most dangerous scenario they knew: either an oddity or a dungeon outbreak.

The Guild heads and senior adventurers with their clans split off in haste, each leading teams toward the five most dangerous dungeons in and around the city's perimeter. These dungeons were well-known powder kegs—labyrinths of monsters that, if ever they surged or broke containment, could threaten the entire city.

This wasn't the first time something similar happened. Just a few years ago, a dungeon outbreak nearly caused the formation of a small volcano within the city. And even decades to centuries beyond that, multiple events ranging from a standard inconvenience to the total destruction of the city have appeared again and again.

While the Adventurer's Guild gathered its forces, the other major factions in the city were not idle.

The City Watch captains barked orders to double the guard at the gates and along the walls.

The Mage's College dispatched a group of mages-scholars to try and analyze or calm the storm, though their spells seemed to fizzle against the sheer primal fury rolling in the clouds.

Mercenary company leaders and clan elders grabbed weapons and rushed to man the defensive barricades near lesser dungeon entrances.

In a rare display of unity, rival organizations moved together, all preparing for the worst.

Outside the arena where the decennial tournament had been taking place, officials hurriedly took control. The crowds that had gathered to party were instructed to disperse. An official's voice, amplified, echoed through the surroundings, "By order of the Guild and the City Council, the tournament is hereby suspended until further notice! All civilians, please proceed to your homes or the nearest shelter in an orderly fashion!"

Disappointed groans and protests were drowned out by another bellow of thunder. The streets emptied as people rushed to find cover from the storm or to reunite with their families.

Hours passed. The storm only intensified. Lightning danced from cloud to cloud, each flare casting stark white light over the city's towers and rooftops. Rain began to pour in torrents, drumming on cobblestone streets and overflowing the gutters.

Yet, for all the storm's fury, nothing emerged from any of the dungeons. The guild teams reported via communicators and magical flares: no unusual monster activity, no signs of dungeon breakouts or surges. The five critical dungeons remained quiet. Still, none of the adventurers dared stand down.

They held their positions in the driving rain, muscles tense and hearts thudding, expecting that at any second the real threat would reveal itself.

After all, unnatural disasters rarely came without cause; if it wasn't a dungeon, what could it be?

Lightning continued to spiderweb across the sky, and the thunder was near-constant now, a rumbling growl that set teeth on edge.

The largest of the storm clouds churned directly above the central district of the city, the district that housed the Adventurer's Guild hall, several guild-owned inns, and the tournament lodgings for visiting fighters. Every few seconds, a brilliant flash would silhouette the skyline. The populace watched in terrified awe, many peering from cracked doorways.

There was a collective sense of dread.

Then, it happened.

With a crack that split the night, a jagged spear of lightning struck down from the heavens… right into a single building. The bolt hit with blinding intensity, and a thunderclap followed in its wake. An instant later, another bolt slammed down in the exact same spot, and another. The sky unleashed its fury on that lone target without mercy.

People gasped and scrambled back from windows and balconies as the series of lightning strikes turned night into day. Some described it later as a pillar of light, others as the very finger of a god smiting the earth.

The building, a multi-story grand innhouse, stood no chance. Wood burst into flame and was immediately extinguished by the deluge of rain, only to be set alight again by the next bolt.

Stone walls cracked and blew apart under the concussive force. Onlookers could only watch in horror from a safe distance as, with each successive blast of lightning, the structure crumbled bit by bit.

Timbers shattered. The tiled roof exploded, sending shards and debris flying. Finally, with a deafening roar, the entire building collapsed in on itself, kicking up a plume of dust, ash, and steam.

And just as suddenly as it came, the storm began to fade. After that final barrage of lightning, the clouds above seemed to lose their malevolent glow. The angry swirl of black gradually lightened to a light gray.

The thunder's growl faded to a distant mutter. Now, there was only the steady pitter-patter of ordinary rain, falling on a city left trembling in the aftermath.

In place of the building was a smoking heap of rubble. Broken beams jutted from piles of stone and mud. A few tongues of flame licked at the wreckage. Those residents and guards brave enough to approach could hardly believe their eyes.

The targeted structure was annihilated, reduced to ruins in a matter of seconds. But beyond that isolated destruction, the rest of the city stood eerily untouched by the storm's wrath.

People exchanged bewildered glances. What could cause such a focused disaster?

There was no sign of any invading monster or raging dungeon core to blame this on.

As the emergency responders cautiously moved in to search for survivors in the wreckage, a strange silence fell over the city.

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