Chapter 109: A Legen Is Born.
The rumbling in the heavens grew fiercer, shaking the ground as though the world itself trembled.
Yet beneath Jun Wu’s hypnotic voice, the people inside the vast stadium seemed oblivious to the chaos above.
They were lost, utterly captivated by his teaching.
Even those who had never studied array formation felt as if a veil had been lifted from their minds.
Jun Wu broke down complex theories into simple truths, stripping away the stiffness and mystery that cloaked them.
He explained the principles of patterns and nodes with patient precision, painting them not as rigid, lifeless rules but as living, breathing concepts.
People discovered, many for the first time, that patterns and nodes were not static chains to be memorized.
They were flexible, adaptable, overflowing with endless possibilities.
His words were like rainfall on parched soil.
For an entire hour, Jun Wu’s lecture flowed like a clear mountain stream, refreshing hearts that had long grown dry with confusion and futility.
His tone soothed yet inspired, unraveling mysteries and replacing despair with newfound purpose.
Then, without warning, the sky shifted.
From within the seething black clouds, a purple mist slowly seeped out, curling and twisting like smoke from a celestial forge.
The mist spread outward, drifting across the city in a strange, otherworldly wave.
On the bustling streets of Mystic City, people stopped in their tracks.
They tilted their heads upward, eyes wide with alarm.
"What is happening?"
"Why is purple mist falling from the sky?"
"Are we... are we under attack?"
Panic spread like wildfire.
Shouts erupted as families pulled loved ones indoors.
The city, once bustling, dissolved into chaos.
Far away, in a secluded courtyard of the Mystic Path Academy, an elderly man with long gray hair raised his gaze to the heavens.
The mist’s faint glow reflected in his eyes, which flickered with an unreadable mix of wonder and dread.
"What is this?" he muttered under his breath, his voice gravelly from age and countless battles.
Complicated emotions flickered across his face, curiosity.
"Is this... the end of our region?"
As an old expert who had witnessed the hidden truths of the world, he knew how fragile safety truly was.
The world was riddled with mysteries that were horrifying.
History had spoken of countless powerful empires and sects that had vanished without warning, swallowed by secrets no one could explain.
Forbidden lands scarred the continents.
Deadly ruins appeared without pattern, swallowing lives whole. It was as though the world itself was preparing, piece by piece, for some great calamity.
And now, the sky wept purple mist.
Back at the stadium, however, the audience remained enthralled by Jun Wu’s words.
The storm and the mist were nothing compared to the revelation pouring from his lips.
They did not notice as the purple haze descended gently over the stadium, blanketing the massive arena like a silken shroud.
And when the mist touched them, something miraculous occurred.
Their eyes glazed, expressions softening into vacant trances.
A deep stillness settled over their hearts.
Inside the VIP chamber, the powerful leaders of the region shared equally bewildered looks.
Yet even they had no answer for this sight.
Before they could react, the mist touched their bodies, and they too fell silent.
Their thoughts sharpening, distractions peeling away, as though the fog within their souls had been burned away.
At the center of it all stood Jun Wu.
The mist gathered thickest around him, coiling and twisting like a living thing, until it wrapped him fully within a cocoon of radiant violet light.
His silhouette blurred, only his steady voice continuing to resonate, calm and unwavering.
Outside the stadium, those who failed to hide on time were touched by the mist.
Instead of terror, clarity washed over their minds.
Their breaths steadied, their cultivation techniques stirred instinctively, and energy flowed through them with unprecedented ease.
A single voice cut through the growing awe.
"Quick! Sit and cultivate!"
"This heaven’s sent opportunity!"
Like lightning, the call spread.
People rushed into the streets, dropping cross-legged on the cobblestones, abandoning fear in favor of seizing the opportunity.
And then the impossible happened.
Mortals who had never cultivated felt their bodies awaken, their blood stirring with vitality they had never known.
"Hahaha! I can sense it—I can sense my Blood Qi!"
Elsewhere, a trembling man shot to his feet, laughing wildly. "I—I broke through! I’ve become a Peak Grade Third Rated Martial Artist!"
Another voice, shrill with disbelief, shouted into the air. "Impossible! I’ve... I’ve actually become a First Rated Martial Artist!"
Across the city, cries of joy rang out like festival bells.
People embraced, some wept, others laughed like madmen.
For them, this was no curse—it was a blessing.
The purple mist was not destruction.
It was a blessing from heaven.
Inside the Mystic Path Academy, the effect was even more profound.
Students and teachers alike sat upon the ground, cultivating with all their strength.
Breakthroughs exploded one after another, each accompanied by the crackle of surging Qi.
In his secluded courtyard, the gray-haired elder trembled as he felt the change within his own body.
His cultivation, stagnant for decades, was stirring once again.
Even the grievous injury that had plagued him for years eased slightly under the mist’s touch.
Then he threw his head back and laughed, his voice booming like thunder.
"Hahaha! Heaven has not forsaken us!"
He turned his gaze toward the stadium, where the mist gathered thickest. His eyes narrowed.
"The stadium..." he whispered. "Could this be the effect of that boy’s lecture?"
Shock, awe, and disbelief warred in his heart.
But one truth was clear: something monumental was occurring.
He moved to rush toward the stadium but froze mid-step. His instincts told him–
It was too late.
The mist was already receding.
His brows furrowed deeply as he looked skyward. Slowly, the brilliant purple mist dissipated, scattering like morning dew beneath the sun.
"I see... this is heaven’s message," he murmured. "A sign that we have not been abandoned. Perhaps... perhaps we have been walking the wrong path all along. This—this is the true way."
Who could have imagined that a single lecture by a kid would illuminate a path forward during their darkest hours?
Back at the stadium, the audience stirred awake, one by one.
Their eyes, once vacant, blinked with renewed clarity.
"What happened?" someone gasped, looking at their hands. "Wait—my strength... it’s increased!"
Another clutched his chest in wonder. "Why do I suddenly understand array theory so clearly? I feel as though I can set up a Grade-1 Array!"
"Strange... I feel no longer suited for array formation. My heart leans toward blacksmithing instead."
"It must have been the purple mist," another whispered, voice trembling. "Yes—it helped us. This... this was a blessing from heaven."
Gradually, a realization spread.
They were no longer the same people who had sat down at the beginning of the lecture.
Their paths were illuminated, their doubts dissolved.
The fog that had once clouded their futures was gone.
And then, as one, they turned their gaze toward the boy stepping forth from the fading purple cocoon.
His figure emerged like dawn breaking through storm clouds.
Eyes widened.
Hearts pounded.
There was no more doubt.
All this happened because of him.
Today, in that stadium, under the witness of heaven and earth, a legend was born.