Cultivation is Creation-Chapter 218: Kal - Rank 8 Lightweaver

High above the Red Sun Academy, five figures hung suspended in the air.

Four wore the ornate robes of Rank 7 Skybound elders.

The fifth, standing slightly apart, appeared deceptively young, his simple red robes belying his status as Hiron, Headmaster of the most prestigious cultivation institution in the Two Suns world.

Facing them alone was a single figure clad in pristine white and gold - Kal, the Rank 8 Lightweaver.

Below, the academy burned.

Sections of once-proud towers had crumbled into smoking ruins. Bodies of Skybound and Lightweavers alike littered the courtyards.

Elder Jun's face contorted with undisguised hatred as he stared at the lone Lightweaver. His hands clenched into fists at his sides.

"You've made a grave mistake challenging all five of us by yourself, boy," Elder Jun spat, taking a half-step forward. "Do you truly believe your talent alone will save you from the consequences of your arrogance?"

"Have I?" Kal asked, genuinely curious.

"Five against one," Jun growled. "Even for someone of your... reputation... these odds are insurmountable."

Headmaster Hiron, who had remained silent until now, inclined his head slightly. Unlike the others, whose eyes burned with the characteristic madness of high-ranking Skybound, his gaze was clear and focused. His red hair and robes might have marked him as one of them, but something fundamental set him apart.

"Where is Headmaster Gaius?" Hiron asked. "I find it unusual that he would send his prized student alone to face us."

Kal's smile faltered for just a moment, so briefly that only Hiron seemed to notice. "Unfortunately, he is a little preoccupied at the moment."

Elder Jirok stepped forward. His hands moved in subtle patterns, weaving invisible threads of power that those with sufficient cultivation could see forming a complex diagnostic array.

"How did you break through our barrier?" he demanded, his voice quivering with equal parts outrage and curiosity. "I strengthened those ancient formations myself, incorporating principles that haven't been seen since the First Age. The anchoring stones were buried at the precise focal points of the academy's foundation. Who was it that you brainwashed to—"

"I broke it," Kal interrupted simply.

"Impossible!" Jirok scoffed. "You may be a prodigy in combat, but you've never shown any particular talent for formations. Even with your Rank 8 status, dismantling a formation of that complexity would require decades of specialized study!"

Kal shook his head with what seemed like genuine disappointment. "You never do believe me when I tell you the truth, Elder Jirok. I always find that fascinating." He glanced at the scroll hidden under his sleeve. "I broke your barrier because I've studied it extensively. More extensively than you might imagine possible."

Elder Jun's patience, never his strongest virtue, finally snapped. "Enough of this nonsense!" he growled, the transformation runes along his arms pulsing violently. His skin began to harden, taking on a metallic sheen that reflected the crimson light of the red sun. "Let's see how eloquent you remain with your lungs collapsed!"

Without waiting for Hiron's command, Jun launched himself forward, his body transforming mid-flight. His arms elongated, fingers merging into blade-like appendages that gleamed like freshly forged steel.

The attack was blindingly fast, a silver streak cutting through the air directly towards Kal's chest.

Kal didn't appear to move.

One moment, Jun's blade-arms were about to impale him; the next, Kal was hovering three feet to the left, his expression unchanged.

No blur of movement, no obvious technique, just an impossible repositioning that seemed to violate the fundamental laws of reality.

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"The first time you did that," Kal commented mildly, "it actually caught me. Your transformation speed was... unexpected. But it isn't going to work anymore."

Jun snarled, pivoting instantly to redirect his attack.

This time, Kal raised a single hand. From his sleeve unfurled a small scroll that expanded in the air before him. With a gesture so quick it was barely perceptible, his finger traced a pattern across the scroll's surface, leaving a trail of blue light that coalesced into the image of a mirror.

The painting shimmered once before detaching from the paper, growing until it was life-sized.

Jun's momentum carried him directly into it, not striking the surface, but passing through it as though it were a doorway.

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An instant later, he emerged from another mirror that had materialized behind Kal, his own attack now directed toward Elder Jirok.

Unable to alter his trajectory, Jun's blade-arms slashed across Jirok's hastily raised barrier. The defensive formation held, but the impact sent the elder tumbling backwards through the air.

Jun stabilized himself, his metallic features contorted with rage. A deep gash had appeared across his torso, somehow, during his passage through the mirrors, he had been wounded by his own attack.

"You..." Elder Jun snarled. "You dare?!"

"Every time," Kal replied softly. "And yet you never learn."

"Jun, control yourself!" Elder Avery shouted, flames already dancing between her fingers. "He's baiting you!"

"Your reflexes are impressive, Elder Jun," Kal continued, the scrolls floating around him like attendant spirits. "But your anger makes you predictable. It has always been your downfall.

"I don't like unnecessary suffering," Kal continued, meeting each elder's eyes in turn. "I'm giving you all one opportunity to surrender. The Order of the First Light doesn't require your deaths, only your cooperation."

Elder Molric, who had been silent, finally spoke. "A novel approach," he murmured. "You've harmonized the structural elements of runic inscriptions with the fluid expressive potential of artistic creation…”

Hiron placed a hand on Molric's shoulder. "This is not the time for academic curiosity, Elder."

"On the contrary," Kal responded, "now might be the only time. After all, the knowledge Elder Molric seeks could be vital for what's coming."

"And what exactly is coming?" Hiron asked.

“A breach has appeared,” Kal's blue eyes dimmed slightly, the first sign of genuine emotion he'd displayed. "And it only widens. The barriers between worlds grow thinner with each passing day. The red sun's madness and the blue sun's clarity were never meant to exist in opposition, they were designed as balance. But the endless war between our orders has corrupted that purpose."

He gestured toward the sky, where the bloated red sun dominated the heavens. "Your disciples channel its power through runes carved in blood and pain, embracing the violence it inspires. Our acolytes seek the blue sun's clarity through meditation and worship. But neither approach is complete."

"Heresy," Jun spat, struggling back to his feet.

"Truth," Kal countered. "And deep down, you all know it. What secret does the Headmaster have that he remains sane while wielding power that drives all others to madness? Why would Elder Molric experiment with hybrid techniques that draw from both celestial bodies?"

Molric's eyes widened fractionally. "How could you possibly know about—"

"Enough!" Hiron's command silenced everyone. "Whatever your purpose here, Kal of the First Light, you stand on sacred ground uninvited and unwelcome. You have shed the blood of our disciples and broken our defenses." His eyes began to glow with increasing intensity. "These transgressions demand an answer."

The five Skybound moved as one, their formation tightening as runic energy built around them.

Kal sighed, a sound of genuine regret. "I had hoped, just once, this conversation might go differently." He unrolled the scroll in his left hand completely, revealing a series of paintings that seemed to shift and move on the parchment. "Very well. Let us begin."

The battle erupted with a flash of colliding energies so intense that it temporarily blinded anyone watching from the lower levels of the academy. Red and blue light intertwined in destructive harmony, each pulse sending shockwaves through the already damaged structures.

Elder Jun recovered first, his transformation complete. His human form was gone, replaced by a beast of living bone and sinew, talons extending from each limb and a protective carapace covering vital areas. He moved like liquid darkness, circling and striking from multiple angles in rapid succession.

Kal's brush danced across the air, leaving trails of glowing ink that solidified into barriers, deflecting Jun's attacks. Where the elder's claws managed to penetrate, they found only afterimages, Kal's body seeming to flicker in and out of reality as he maintained constant motion.

"I wonder what changed. You’ve improved your speed," Kal commented, as if they were sparring partners rather than mortal enemies. "Your third strike was always slightly slower than the first two."

"Stop speaking in riddles!" Jun roared, his voice distorted by his transformation. "We've never fought before today!"

In response, Kal drew a swift series of interconnected symbols that resembled birds in flight. The ink separated from the air, forming a flock of azure ravens that circled him protectively before surging towards Jun with unexpected ferocity.

The transformed elder slashed through the first wave, his claws dispersing several of the constructs into mist. But the birds reformed behind him, their beaks and talons finding the seams in his armor.

Where they struck, the bone began to crack, hairline fractures spreading outwards like spiderwebs.

“You’re not exactly wrong,” Kal murmured. “This is technically our first battle.”