Legends of the Lightning Saints - Eve’s & Teddy Baptism

Prologue

We are cultivators - meaning fire, water, and thunder listen to us. We train. We fight. We get stronger. Honestly, it’s our whole personality.

Our home is the Thunder Sect. It’s not huge, it’s not famous, and it’s definitely not impressing anyone from the big cities, but it’s ours

According to history class - or whatever passed for it - this all started centuries ago when some genius doctor destroyed the world trying to save it. See, the machines had declared war on humanity and pushed us to the absolute brink of extinction - they called it AI or something. The doctor’s brilliant plan? Release a virus to fry the machines.

It worked. But it also fried the entire global power grid, and the virus mutated and infected every human left alive. Luckily, those who didn’t die from the virus infection changed. It rewired our DNA. Suddenly, some could manipulate the elements. Naturally, instead of doing the smart thing and rebuilding civilized nations, humanity went: "Hey, neat, superpowers!" and started forming warring martial arts sects instead.

Fast forward to recently. This warlord named Grainfield had been sweeping across the eastern plains, conquering sects like he was collecting trading cards. The guy was terrifying. He’d already forced legendary Saints from multiple sects to serve him. Like, actual Saints. People who had reached a level of power most of us only dream about, and Grainfield had them on literal leashes doing his dirty work.

Eventually, Grainfield set his greedy eyes on our sect. Why? Because he wanted to kidnap Lighter's kids of the thunder sect, who happen to possess some absolute monstrosity-level talent. The adults in our sect wanted to resist, obviously, but trying to fight a Void First Star cultivator with a bunch of Saints is pure, unadulterated madness. It didn't matter how many Saints there were; they were ants before him.

We were completely doomed.

But then, Sandy finished her baptism. She didn't just survive it; she blasted right past everyone and became a legitimate Void Second Star cultivator.

And just like that, the tables didn’t just turn - they flipped completely. And suddenly, the terrifying invaders were the ones down on their knees, begging us for mercy.

Chapter 1: The Tiger King

All this time, we have talked about cultivators and sects and betrayals and family drama. We talked about Sandy turning into a god. We talked about Grainfield losing his hand.

But we never once talked about the animals.

The birds. The fish. The tigers with serious anger management issues.

And there was a good reason for that. A reason that made everyone in the cultivation world sort of… avoid the topic. Like how you avoid talking about that one uncle at family dinners. You know he exists. You know he's strong and unpredictable. You just hope he stays on his side of the table.

Well, the animals stayed on their side of the table for a long time. And then some idiot flipped the table over.

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

Let me start from the beginning. Or at least the beginning of the mess.

When the virus first hit the world, everyone was focused on humans. How humans were mutating. How humans were gaining cultivation powers. How humans were building sects and fighting each other over who had the shiniest spiritual sword.

Nobody paid attention to the animals.

Big mistake. Huge.

See, the virus didn't care if you had two legs or four legs or no legs and lived in the ocean. The virus spread everywhere. It got into the water. It got into the soil. It got into the air. And the animals breathed it, drank it, ate it right along with everything else.

But here's the thing that everyone missed.

Animals have always been closer to nature than humans. Humans build walls. Humans chop down forests. Humans sit around thinking about money and revenge and whether their neighbor's robe is slightly fancier than theirs. Animals don't do that. Animals live in the dirt. They swim in the rivers. They breathe the same air as the ancient trees. They sleep under the stars without a single worried thought about tomorrow's dinner meeting.

So when the virus came and started messing with the natural order of things, the animals didn't fight it. They didn't try to control it or weaponize it or turn it into a business opportunity. They just… absorbed it. Like a sponge soaking up water.

And nature responded.

Think about it this way. If you spend your whole life living next to a wise old master, you're going to pick up a few things. You might not even realize it. But you'll start walking like him. Talking like him. Understanding things the way he does.

The animals had been living next to nature since the beginning of time. So when the virus unlocked something deep in the world's spiritual energy, the animals were right there to catch the wave. Humans had to struggle and meditate and consume rare pills and fight each other for ancient techniques. Animals just… evolved.

Their bodies remembered things that humans had forgotten. The way a tree grows toward the sun without being taught. The way a river finds the ocean without a map. The way a pack of wolves hunts together like a single living creature. All of that is cultivation, really. Just a different kind. A purer kind.

So while humans were busy forming sects and arguing about who got to sit on the biggest chair, the animals were quietly, quickly, terrifyingly becoming monsters.

Not all of them, of course. A regular old house cat wasn't going to turn into a Void Realm demon just because it caught a cold. But the strong ones? The alpha wolves? The ancient tigers? The giant serpents that already lived for hundreds of years? Oh, they took to cultivation like fish take to water.

Actually, bad example. Fish literally took to water. The ocean got so scary that even Void Realm cultivators thought twice before sailing anywhere. There were whales down there that could swallow whole islands. Krakens that could pull ships into depths where the sun had never touched. And something at the very bottom of the Mariana Trench that even the other sea monsters refused to talk about.

But that's a story for another time.

Here's the simple truth about cultivation. The strongest rules. Doesn't matter if you're human, beast, or a talking mushroom with anger issues. Power is power. And the beasts had a lot of it.

Within a few centuries of the virus, the strongest beasts had broken through to the Void Realm. Not just Void First Star, either. Some of them pushed higher. Much higher. They claimed territories  -  massive chunks of land, sea, and sky  -  and they ruled those territories with absolute authority.

A Void Realm tiger didn't need to shout orders. It just existed in its territory, and every beast within a thousand miles understood exactly who was in charge. The same way you don't need a sign to know you're standing in the shadow of a mountain.

The biggest and baddest of these beasts settled in the western plains and mountains. Dense forests. Wide rivers. Plenty of spiritual energy. It was a beast paradise. And at the very top of that paradise sat the Tiger. Void Three Star. Fire and lightning elements. Wings that crackled with enough electricity to power a small city. Armor-like fur that could shrug off attacks that would level a sect.

We'll get back to him. Don't worry. He's the whole reason we're having this conversation.

Now, you might be wondering: if the beasts were this powerful, why didn't they just walk into human territory and take over? Good question. Smart question.

The answer is simple. Two reasons, actually.

First reason: the beasts didn't really care about humans. Not at first. They had their own territories. Their own hierarchies. Their own problems. A tiger ruling a mountain range doesn't wake up in the morning thinking, "You know what would make my day better? Eating a few thousand humans." That's just not how powerful beings think. You don't see a king worrying about every ant hill in his kingdom. The ants do their thing. The king does his. Everybody leaves each other alone.

Second reason: the humans had a deterrent. One specific human. The strongest cultivator humanity had produced since the virus. A man who sat at the peak of Void Second Star.

Now, you might say, "But wait. Void Second Star is weaker than Void Three Star. The Tiger could crush him." And you would be technically correct. But cultivation isn't just about who wins in a fight. It's about cost.

Imagine you have a big, expensive vase. I have a hammer. Technically, I can break your vase. But if I break your vase, you're going to be really angry, and you might do something that costs me more than I wanted to spend. So maybe I don't break the vase. Maybe we just agree to stay on our own sides of the room.

That's how it worked between the strongest human and the strongest beast. The Tiger knew that attacking human territory would mean fighting that Void Second Star human. And sure, the Tiger would probably win. But "probably win" isn't the same as "win without getting hurt." A fight between a Void Three Star and a Void Second Star would leave wounds. Deep ones ( Not to mention it would lead to world annihilation). The kind that take decades to heal. And while the Tiger was healing, other beasts might get ideas. Rivals might make moves. The whole western territory could fall into chaos.

So the Tiger made a choice. A smart choice. The kind of choice that kept everyone alive and comfortable.

Peace.

Not the "we hold hands and sing songs" kind of peace. The "you stay over there, I'll stay over here, and neither of us does anything stupid" kind of peace. It worked. For decades. For centuries. Humans built their cities and sects. Beasts ruled their forests and mountains. The strongest human kept watch from his seat of power, making sure nothing disrupted the balance.

He was a kind man, that strongest human. Not the type to throw his weight around. He didn't demand worship or tribute. He didn't go around challenging beasts just to prove how tough he was. He just… existed. Quietly. Like a parent watching over a playground. You don't see them. You don't think about them. But you know they're there. And that knowledge alone keeps most of the bullies away.

The big sects knew his name. They knew his power. They respected him not because he demanded it, but because he earned it. He was the reason the beasts never pushed too far. He was the reason human civilization didn't get swallowed whole.

And then some idiot ruined everything!

We don't know his name.

I want to be clear about that. We don't know his name because history erased it. Nobody cared who he was. Everyone who could have recorded his name decided, together, without a single disagreement, that he didn't deserve to be remembered. Not even as a warning. Some things are so stupid, so shameful, that the best punishment is to let them disappear like a fart in the wind.

But we know what he did. Oh, we know what he did.

This man  -  and I use the term "man" loosely  -  was a cultivator. Not a great one. Not a famous one. Just some guy with enough power to be dangerous and not enough brain cells to know when to stop. He was probably from a medium-sized sect. Probably had a few achievements under his belt. Probably thought he was the smartest person in any room he walked into.

You know the type. We all know the type.

One day, this genius decided to go exploring in the western territories. Why? Who knows. Maybe he wanted rare herbs, or to get a throne. Maybe he wanted to prove how brave he was. Maybe he just got lost. The point is, he crossed into the Tiger's territory. And while he was there, he found something.

A cub.

The Tiger's cub.

A baby tiger, small and playful and full of that innocent energy that baby animals always have. It was probably rolling around in the grass, batting at butterflies, doing all the cute little things that make you want to scoop it up and cuddle it.

And this man  -  this absolute walnut  -  looked at that cub and saw something else.

He saw power. He saw cultivation materials. He saw a chance to get stronger by killing something that couldn't fight back.

I want you to imagine that for a second. Imagine looking at a baby and thinking, "Yes. This is my opportunity." That's the level of stupid we're dealing with here. Not just evil. Not just greedy. But stupid. The kind of stupid that rewrites your understanding of what stupid even means.

He wounded the cub.

But before he could proceed, The beast around realised that the princess was in danger and intervened. 

The Tiger found out.

Now, let me describe the Tiger properly. Because if you're going to understand just how badly this idiot messed up, you need to understand what he angered.

First of all, the Tiger wasn't just a tiger anymore. The virus and the nature attunement had changed him on every level. He had reached Void Three Star  -  a level so high that most cultivators couldn't even imagine it. 

Second, the Tiger had awakened two elements. Fire and electricity. Not separately. Together. Have you ever seen a lightning bolt hit a forest fire? That's what this Tiger felt like. His fur glowed with embers. His stripes crackled with arcs of blue-white lightning. When he breathed, smoke and sparks came out together.

Third  -  and this is where it gets really unfair  -  he had grown wings. Huge, beautiful wings made of pure elemental energy. Each feather was a blade of lightning wrapped in flame. When he spread them, the sky turned dark and the air smelled like a thunderstorm and a wildfire happening at the same time. His body was covered in natural armor, too. Not scales, exactly. More like his fur had thickened and hardened into something that looked like molten gold. Arrows bounced off. Swords shattered. Spiritual attacks that could level buildings just sort of… slid away.

And finally  -  the thing that scared everyone the most  -  the Tiger could talk. Full human speech. Complete sentences. Sarcasm, wit, threats, everything. He had achieved full human-level intelligence and understanding. He could plan. He could strategize. He could feel emotions like grief and rage and a burning, endless need for revenge.

So when he found his cub wounded, he didn't just roar and charge blindly into human territory. That would have been too simple. Too easy.

He stood on the highest peak of his mountain territory. He looked east toward the human lands. And in a voice that carried across the wind and through the spiritual senses of every powerful being within ten thousand miles, he roared:

A roar that implied no peace - well at least the animals understood

The Tiger gave his orders. And the beasts of the west responded.

Not just the tigers. Not just the big predators. Everything. Wolves the size of houses. Serpents that could crush cities. Birds that blocked out the sun. Even the smaller beasts  -  the ones you might ignore  -  they came too. Because when a Void Three Star Tiger tells you to fight, you fight. You don't ask questions. You don't pack a bag. You just go.

The Tiger's inner circle was terrifying. He had multiple Void Second Star beasts as his generals. Each one of them was powerful enough to take on an entire sect by themselves. Below them, dozens of Void First Star beasts. Dozens. Not one or two. Dozens.

And below them? An ocean of Saint-level beasts.

Now, let me stop here and explain something. In the human cultivation world, Saint level is a big deal. Most cultivators never get anywhere close to Saint. The people who reach Saint level are the elders and sect masters. They're the ones giving speeches and sitting on thrones and having younger cultivators bow to them. Saint level is power. Saint level is respect. Saint level is, for most humans, the absolute peak of what they can achieve.

In the Tiger's army, Saint-level beasts were foot soldiers.

Let that sink in.

The thing that humans treat as their ultimate weapon  -  the Tiger treated as cannon fodder. The kind of creature you send in first just to see if the enemy bleeds. If a Saint-level beast died in battle, the Tiger wouldn't even notice. He had thousands more where that came from.

This wasn't a war. This was an extinction event wearing a fur coat.

The human stronghold  -  the ancient organization that had kept humanity safe for generations  -  received the news in the worst possible way. A messenger beast (one of the ones that could still talk but had chosen loyalty to the Tiger over freedom) arrived at the border and delivered a simple ultimatum.

"The Tiger demands the head of the human who killed his cub. He demands that all human sects in the eastern plains disband and submit to beast rule. He demands that every human Void Realm cultivator present themselves for judgment. If these demands are not met within thirty days, the beasts will attack. There will be no mercy. There will be no survivors."

The stronghold leaders read the message. They read it again. Then they read it a third time, hoping that maybe they had misunderstood something the first two times.

They hadn't.

Panic spread faster than a wildfire in a dry forest. Messengers were sent to every major sect. "Send your strongest fighters. Send everyone you can spare. We are facing annihilation. This is not a drill. This is not a test. This is the real thing, and if we don't work together, we are all going to die."

The sect masters gathered. They argued. They debated. Some wanted to negotiate. Some wanted to run. Some wanted to fight. But as the details of the Tiger's army became clear  -  as they learned about the multiple Void Second Star generals, the dozens of Void First Star lieutenants, the thousands upon thousands of Saint-level soldiers  -  the arguing stopped.

Because there was nothing to argue about.

Humanity had exactly one Void Second Star cultivator. The kind-hearted man who had kept the peace all these years. He was strong. He was respected. He was the best they had.

And he was nowhere near strong enough to stop what was coming.

The Tiger would crush him. Not easily  -  the man would make the Tiger work for it. He would wound the Tiger, maybe even wound him badly. But in the end, the Tiger would win. And after that, with humanity's strongest defender dead, the rest of the sects would fall like dominoes.

One by one. Sect by sect. City by city.

Until nothing was left.

Here's the part that makes everyone angry. Not scared. Angry.

This whole thing was avoidable.

For years, the system worked. The beasts stayed in the west. The humans stayed in the east. The strongest human kept the balance. Nobody was happy about it (given that the most rare cultivation resources were in the west plains), but nobody was dead either. That's the best kind of peace  -  the kind where everyone goes home at the end of the day.

And then one greedy, stupid, short-sighted idiot decided that wounding a baby tiger was worth the risk.

He didn't think about what would happen after. He didn't think about the Tiger's reaction. He didn't think about the millions of humans who would pay for his actions with their lives. He just saw an opportunity and took it, like a child grabbing a shiny object without realizing it's attached to a bomb.

And now everyone else has to clean up his mess.

Sound familiar? It should. Because this isn't the first time humanity has faced annihilation because someone got greedy. The machines. Remember the machines? That whole disaster started because some corporation wanted to cut costs and ignored the safety protocols. Greed.

And now the beasts. Greed again.

You would think humans would learn. You would think that after the first near-extinction event, people would start thinking about the bigger picture. But no. Greed is the one thing in this world that evolves faster than any virus. It adapts. It finds new ways to ruin everything. And it never, ever learns from its mistakes.

So here we are. Humanity stands on the edge of annihilation once again. The Tiger is sharpening his claws. The beast army is gathering. The human sects are scrambling to prepare for a war they cannot win.

And somewhere out there, the idiot who started all of this is probably dead already. Killed by the very beast he tried to steal from. Or maybe he's hiding in a cave somewhere, hoping nobody finds out what he did.

But we know.

We know.

And if humanity survives this  -  if by some miracle we pull through  -  we are going to find that idiot's name - we already are! We are going to dig up his grave, or pull him out of his cave, or drag his ghost back from whatever afterlife he crawled into. And then we are going to have a very long conversation about consequences.

But that's for later.

Right now, there's a war coming.