SUPREME ARCH-MAGUS

“My Son, did you eat?” Madam Clark’s voice rang out gently, warm as spring sunlight.

Kent froze. His surroundings had shifted. He was inside the Clark family home—an illusion, but no less real in emotion.

There was the smell of steamed rice. The wooden table. The delicate plates arranged with care. His mother stood there, with an apron around her waist, smiling gently as she placed food in front of him.

Kent’s eyes trembled.

His hands moved mechanically, picking up the chopsticks, but each grain of rice felt like a rock pressing against his chest. Tears threatened to fall, and he bit his lips to stop himself.

This scene was perfect. But that perfection was a curse.

He knew what was coming.

“Aunt Eila…” he muttered, even before the sound of heels striking wood arrived.

The air turned cold.

Eila appeared at the hallway entrance. Her sharp eyes scanned Kent once before her face twisted into visible disgust.

“So you do remember this house,” she said, voice laced with fury. “You left. Ran off to chase your godhood. What about your mother? What about us? Did you even look back once?”

Madam Clark tried to interject, holding her sister’s wrist, whispering, “Please… not now.”

But Eila pulled away.

“I warned you, sister. Raising a child with too much ambition only leads to betrayal. And look—he abandoned his name, his blood, for power. Now he returns, as if we owe him something.”

Kent lowered his head.

“You left us to death! Your selfishness is the reason for everything. You left us to die while you enjoy millions of lifespans in the Immortal world. We already dead long ago!”

Each word was a blade. Not because they were wrong… but because they were true.

The food he tried to eat turned to ash in his mouth. His throat burned with shame.

He wanted to say something. Apologize. Just once. But his mouth wouldn’t open.

His mother’s silence hurt the most. The way she stood between them, shielding him with love, even when he didn’t deserve it.

His soul cracked… and then darkness swept over everything.

–

The next moment, he was standing atop the Rising Sun Peak, within the Eternal Sun Sect.

The clouds rolled lazily beneath the towering cliffs. But that peaceful sight did nothing to comfort him now.

The Drunken Master was there. So was the old patriarch.

They looked at him—not as their proudest disciple—but as a disappointment.

“You came with promises,” the old patriarch said, his hands behind his back, eyes unreadable.

“You left without fulfilling a single one,” the Drunken Master added, his flask unusually full.

Kent felt the mountain tremble under the weight of unspoken disappointment. No accusations. No anger. Just that silent stare… like two fathers watching a son they once believed in, only to find him corrupted by ambition.

He took a step forward, but their eyes dimmed… and the world fell apart once more.

–

This time, he was inside a bridal chamber. Fragrance of fresh flowers hung in the air. Candles flickered gently. A mirror shimmered beside him.

Lana stood there, back turned, her reflection in the mirror catching his face.

She was crying.

“Why did you spoil me?” she whispered, her voice trembling with sorrow. “What did I do to deserve this hell?”

Kent couldn’t breathe.

Lana turned slowly, revealing the naked body which is filled with blood marks and scratches from Kent’s forceful action.

“Just for a small treasure, you spoiled an innocent girl like me before my wedding.”

She stepped closer.

“Do you know what it means for a woman betrayed just before marriage? You ruined me… even if you married me later, you never erased the pain. You buried it. Like everything else.”

Kent collapsed to his knees.

He wanted to scream—to tear away from this illusion. But no. This wasn’t fake.

This was a memory… Truth.

He gripped the floor, knuckles turning white. But there was no salvation.

–

Darkness closed in again.

Then a silhouette emerged.

The air changed. Lighter. Colder. Familiar.

Thea.

She stood before him. No words. No emotion on her face. Just… presence.

Kent stood frozen, bathed in the pale glow of his memories. The echo of footsteps reverberated across the endless void of his soulscape. Before him stood Thea.

Her eyes shimmered, not with love, but with a mixture of betrayal and unbearable confusion.

“I waited… and waited…” she whispered, voice breaking under the weight of unspoken pain. “What did I do wrong, Kent? What mistake did I commit to deserve this fate?”

Kent’s throat dried. His heart thumped erratically as the memory played—not a hallucination, but a truth he buried in the cracks of ambition and detachment.

“I only did what your mother told me to do,” she continued. “I was loyal… I believed in you.”

She took a hesitant step forward. Her robes, once radiant and dignified, now clung to her frail figure like chains of suffering. Her lips trembled as tears carved paths down her cheeks.

“I wasn’t the one who threw you out of your house… It was all her plan. Madam Clark’s. She wanted me to reject you. She made me believe I was the obstacle in your path. And you… You never came back to ask why…”

Kent’s fists clenched.

“I thought you would return after learning the truth. But instead, you vanished.”

Her breathing turned labored. Her spiritual aura flickered violently. The air twisted with her inner storm.

“I’ve been suffering from a cultivation backlash for years now…” she muttered. “But you… never came… to see me. Never tried to treat-me.”

Kent’s pupils trembled.

Suddenly, blood spilled from Thea’s lips. She dropped to her knees like a marionette with its strings cut.

“Tell me… Was I just a step in your journey?”

Kent couldn’t move. His entire soul quaked under the weight of her words.

The scene cracked, splintered like breaking glass—and was swept away by a storm of divine lightning.

–

Now Kent stood beneath a vast, thundering sky. Storm clouds churned above, and bolts of divine lightning streaked down like wrathful whips. A colossal figure formed from swirling stormlight and tempestuous winds descended slowly from the heavens.

The Storm God.

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