---
The ceremonial hall of the Lei Mansion still echoed with muffled murmurs of shock.
Even after Grandmaster Ling Yu's announcement — Tyrant Iron Armor and innate level 10 — no one dared move right away. Time itself seemed to slow, frozen around the image of Lei Wuchen kneeling in the center of the circle.
But then, like a dam breaking, the whispers returned with force.
"Impossible!"
"That bastard has the Duke's spirit?"
"Wasn't he supposed to be a stain on the bloodline?"
The Grandmaster remained silent, his gaze fixed on Wuchen with a mix of caution and respect. Rarely had he seen such a thing: an extremely rare martial soul awakening with full innate power — and no less, the very one that defined the Lei family's main bloodline.
But Wuchen no longer heard the voices. His heart beat steady and strong, pulsing in rhythm with the armor he now felt — not around him, but within.
It was dense. Deep. Like a storm trapped beneath a mountain. He felt larger. Heavier… but more complete.
"This isn't just power," he thought. "It's an anchor. A call to greatness."
It was as if the armor had always been there, waiting to be acknowledged.
And though his body was still that of a child, his mind wasn't. Despite spending most of his previous life in a hospital bed, he had lived seventeen years. He didn't remember everything, but his mind carried an advantage no other child had. And now, it expanded with this new reality. He knew — with certainty — that nothing would ever be the same.
Then he felt a large, calloused hand on his shoulder. He turned.
— "Father."
The man said nothing. He simply smiled — a warm, proud smile.
---
— "Rise."
The Duke's voice sliced through the air like a cold blade.
Everyone fell silent at once.
— "The ceremony is over."
The children were led out by servants and spirit masters. The elders hesitated, then stood and began to leave, still murmuring among themselves. Some cast quick glances at Wuchen, who remained still.
The Duke exchanged a few quiet words with Grandmaster Ling Yu before turning and descending from his throne in slow, measured steps.
He didn't look at his son, who stood beside the boy.
— "Bring Lei Wuchen to my private chambers."
That was all he said.
---
Wuchen walked with his father through the quiet inner courtyard, guided by a silent servant. The atmosphere of the mansion seemed to have changed. Every glance from a guard or servant now held something new: awe, suspicion... or fear.
The door shut behind them with a soft click.
They were alone with the Duke.
---
The chamber was modest, yet austere. Ancient tapestries, weapons hung on the walls, a simple tea table between two chairs. Lei Tianlong stood by the window of rice paper, his back to them.
His hair was tied with a silver band. His shoulders broad, straight like spears. Even still, he radiated strength — not just physical, but presence. Like a fortress that didn't need to move to dominate the space.
Lei Qingshan hesitated.
— "...Father."
Lei Tianlong slowly turned around.
The look he gave his son was unreadable. Not anger, not affection. But intense. Watchful.
Qingshan frowned.
— "You know what this means."
— "The Armor?"
— "Yes. The martial soul that defines — and still defines — our bloodline."
He approached slowly, each step like distant thunder. He stopped in front of the boy and knelt down, bringing his eyes level with Wuchen's.
— "Do you know what this means?"
Wuchen felt strange. They were talking as if he weren't there. But now his grandfather was right in front of him, staring into his eyes — and yet still speaking to his father.
— "That I'm like you."
The words escaped Wuchen's lips firmly, even under his father's disapproving glance, clearly wanting him to stay silent.
The Duke didn't seem angry. He merely sighed.
— "No, Wuchen. It means you now have a target on your back. It means this house, which barely tolerated you, now fears you. It means you are no longer invisible… you've become a threat."
Qingshan spoke up, reproachfully:
— "Father…"
Lei Tianlong smiled — but not with joy. It was the bitter smile of someone who knows too much.
The boy's eyes narrowed.
— "Isn't that what you wanted, grandfather?"
The Duke rose slowly.
— "I wanted you to survive. Do you think, after all these years, I didn't consider sending someone after you? That I couldn't have made that woman disappear?"
His voice carried a quiet coldness.
— "But I didn't. Out of honor… or maybe weakness. You always misunderstood me, Qingshan. You could've stayed away forever for all I cared. But a noble must play a certain role — or at least pretend to."
With every word, Qingshan's face grew more tense. Complicated.
— "After what you did, I couldn't just welcome you and your son with open arms. I care only for House Lei. Not petty power struggles. But unfortunately, I can't hold it alone. So I play this game."
The Duke looked weary. And annoyed.
Silence fell between them like a blade.
Wuchen looked at his father, then at the ground, swallowing hard.
Then Tianlong spoke again:
— "That said, I'll allow you to choose. Do you really want to stay and face what's coming?"
— "If you leave now, I'll pretend none of this happened. You could live a simple life, free of obligations."
— "But if you stay, prepare for disdain. Hatred. Envy. And betrayal."
He sat back down.
Qingshan took a deep breath, knelt beside his son, and spoke softly:
— "She made me promise to keep you away from all this. To let you just be a normal boy. By bringing you back... I broke that promise."
— "But you had to return, didn't you?" — Wuchen asked, slowly.
Lei Qingshan looked at his son. His eyes calm, full of affection.
— "The choice is yours, son. But know... I'll stand with you, whatever you decide."
Wuchen closed his eyes.
For a moment, he was back in that hospital bed. Trapped. Suffocating. Powerless to choose. His life dictated by circumstance — like freedom was just an illusion.
But now... now he could choose.
He opened his eyes, slowly. Steady.
— "I want to stay, Father. For you, for Mom, and for myself. To prove to everyone that I'm more than a bastard. That I deserve my name... and the title of Iron Thunder Duke."
And freedom. So that no circumstance ever forces me again.
But that part he kept to himself.
Qingshan nodded, giving a quiet smile.
Lei Tianlong watched, then stood.
— "Since you've chosen, listen carefully."
He approached with heavy steps.
His voice became firm. A thunder disguised as words.
— "To have the Tyrant Iron Armor as your martial soul is not just a power. It is a burden. A legacy. Only two others have wielded it. And by my word — and the founder's — know this: if you're not strong enough to carry it…"
He placed a heavy hand on the boy's shoulder.
— "…that armor will consume you."
Wuchen raised his chin.
— "Then I'll become strong enough."
— "Anyone can say that."
— "But I have a reason greater than words."
The Duke raised an eyebrow.
— "What reason?"
Wuchen clenched his fists.
— "I want to be free."
The grandfather studied him in silence for long seconds. Then he stepped away and opened a small chest near the wall. He pulled out a sealed scroll and handed it to the boy.
— "This is the manual detailing the Armor. Tomorrow at dawn, I'll take you to obtain your first ring. After that, I'll train you personally for one month. That's all I can do for you."
Then he turned to his son:
— "Qingshan, from now on, you'll serve in my personal guard."
— "But Father, that will anger the elders."
The Duke scoffed.
— "I said I can't do everything I want, but I'm still the patriarch. And the core power of this family. Let them be angry. At least I can do this."
Qingshan nodded with a sigh of relief. It was as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders.
Wuchen clutched the scroll with both hands.
— "Yes, sir."
Lei Tianlong observed him once more. His gaze softened, just for an instant, before dismissing them with a wave.
---
Outside the chamber, Qingshan ruffled his son's hair and said:
— "Your mother... would be proud."
Wuchen held the scroll to his chest.
— "I will honor her. And you too."
Qingshan nodded, bowing slightly to the chamber behind them.
Wuchen followed suit. His steps now felt heavier... but firmer.
---
As he crossed the mansion courtyard, he felt the eyes of the world on his back. But he felt something else too.
The Armor, still dormant, was with him.
And the iron will to move forward.
---