Hayden crouched behind a jagged outcropping of stone. In his previous form he might have noticed the rugged nature of the rock, or how it pressed against his vulnerable human flesh. But now, he knew he could reduce it to powder with a clench of his fist.

Around him, the terrain of the Tempest Peaks loomed dark and ominous under the shadow of swirling storm clouds above. Lightning and wind mana abounded, distilled into every pebble and air current. Hayden couldn’t breath it in, or feel it upon his skin, but his golem senses were more profound in a different way. He knew if he closed his eyes, he would still feel and see the mana around him.

Hayden still carried the sense of invigoration he’d felt upon leaving the twisted corridors of Terravorn’s secret outpost and stepping into the open air. The mana in Sturmveil was unfamiliar, far different than his homeland—colder, sharper, and strangely whimsical. Much like the people who resided there. It was…liberating.

Around him, the Gale Master’s allies were poised, hidden within the dark crevices of the mountain path, their cloaks blending with the shifting shadows. They had spread out, ready to strike at the Stormguard—the policing force of the kingdom—in the distance. But the real test wasn’t for them, it was for Hayden.

When Master Tharn had led Hayden from the depths, the golem had found himself in a different world, surrounded by those he had thought enemies. Though, he wouldn’t call the members of Settling Storm his allies exactly.

They had been skeptical of him, disdainful even, upon their first introduction. They’d openly mocked the futility of sending a lone golem as reinforcement, their cynicism hardening as they looked him over.

On the route over, Hayden had shared his concerns with the Gale Master, but Tharn had only smiled. “Let them doubt you. Prove them wrong. A storm is only as dangerous as it is underestimated.”

The golem had watched as Master Tharn picked up the skepticism of his followers like a writhing lightning bolt and twisted it, shaping into anticipation. He assured them that Hayden was more than just stone and magic. He was a weapon. And now, he was about to see if that was true.

Master Tharn had sent scouts to track a nearby Stormguard patrol, and now here Hayden was, crouched in the mountains, ready to be put to the test.

A low rumble of thunder echoed in the distance, snapping Hayden back to the present. He could feel the weight of the storm magic gathering in the air around him, churning like the eye of a hurricane, and yet it didn’t bother him. The crackling tension, the sharp scent of ozone, the electric buzz—it was all there, but those were human concerns, and he wasn’t human.

One of the Settling Storm signaled to him, a curt hand signal that told Hayden they were ready. The Stormguard was approaching the point of no return, and soon, the fight would begin. The golem glanced at the path below to the members of the order hidden among the rocks. They were tense, hands gripping the short swords popular in the region. Their eyes shifted between him and the approaching Stormguard. They didn’t trust him, but they trusted their Gale Master.

Hayden turned his attention back to the Stormguard. He watched as they marched cautiously into the narrow pass, their eyes scanning the jagged cliffs around them. Unbeknownst to them, they were walking directly into the trap.

When they passed the invisible demarcation line, Hayden leapt from the ledge. The wind whistled past his stone form as he plummeted, gaining speed, his body hurtling toward the grounds like a meteor. The world around him blurred, but his eyes locked on the Stormguard captain—identified by the distinct metal helmet bearing an orange feather—at the heart of the group.

An instant later, Hayden slammed into the captain, continuing through man and horse, to crack the earth beneath him in a small crater, dust and debris flying into the air. The already dying captain barely had time to react before Hayden’s stone fist smashed into him with unrelenting force, crumpling his helm as easily as parchment.

The rest of the Stormguard froze in shock, their eyes wide as they registered the stone first that had appeared among them so suddenly. Hayden rose from the crater, his blue crystalline eyes gleaming, his stone form towering and unyielding.

A split-second later, the enemy recovered from their shock, their faces twisting into expressions of vengeance. Their hands crackled with lightning and the wind around them whipped into a frenetic gust as they prepared their techniques.

One of them raised his hands, summoning a buffeting wind that tore through the air toward Hayden. Another unleashed a bolt of lightning, the impossibly bright energy streaking through the darkened landscape. Several others activated their movement techniques, their forms blurring as they circled Hayden with the speed only ascendants could master.

But Hayden was ready. He could feel the power of the storm mana swirling around him, but it barely registered against his rocky carapace. The lightning bolt struck him directly, crackling across his body in a dazzling display—and dissipated without so much as a scratch.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

A small smile formed in his mind. He could feel his own power, a quiet rage that had been building since his capture finally released. A clinical part of himself wondered at the feeling. There was no fear, no hesitation, no weakness. It was like the ritual did more than change his body—it changed his thoughts.

With a telepathic roar, Hayden banished the small voice in his mind and launched himself at the nearest Stormguard. His stone fist connected with the man’s chest, crushing armor and bone in a single blow. As the guard fell, the golem felt a strange sensation—a rush of energy that wasn’t quite mana flowing from the body into him. It seeped into his stone form, and he noticed his rugged exterior growing darker, taking on the color of the Tempest Peaks rock.

Around him, the remaining Stormguard hesitated, their confidence shaken. But Hayden was already moving, faster than before. With each kill—each influx of energy, he could feel his body changing, the weight shifting, his form becoming leaner and lighter. He could keep up with their enhanced speed, matching their movements as he dodged and countered their strikes.

A guard lunged at him, twin shortswords crackling with lightning. Hayden sidestepped effortlessly, his reflexes sharpened by the energy he’d absorbed. A stone arm shot out, grabbing the man by the neck, and he felt a jolt of electricity surge up his arm, his body seeming to absorb the lightning, sparks crackling around him. With a single twist, he snapped the guard’s neck and felt another surge of power flow into him.

Each new kill brought more change. His stone skin darkened further, becoming smoother yet denser, the texture more akin to volcanic glass. Small sparks danced across his body like deadly fireflies. When he clenched his fists, zaps of lightning arced between his fingers, a byproduct of the storm energy he was unconsciously harnessing.

The remaining guards’ fear was now palpable. They tried to regroup, summoning more lightning, creating barriers of wind and water to shield themselves. But Hayden tore through them with ease, each strike faster, harder, and deadlier than the last. Every blow seemed to draw more power into him, enhancing his form, reshaping him into something more suitable for this foreign land.

The arcs of lightning intensified, shooting out from his fists each time he struck. One guard tried to dodge, but Hayden anticipated his movement, landing a powerful punch that released a surge of lightning directly into the guard’s chest. The body convulsed as the lightning coursed through it, and the Stormguard dropped, lifeless.

A silence settled over the impromptu battlefield that was quickly shattered by the sound of panicked footsteps. The last Stormguard, eyes wide with terror, turned and bolted, his movements frantic as he scrambled over loose stones toward his horse, having fled just beyond the ambush site. Hayden noticed him just as he reached his mount, throwing himself onto the saddle in a desperate attempt to escape.

The Stormguard spurred his horse into a gallop, racing toward the open trail. Hayden surged forward, still drunk on battle and blood, but he knew he couldn’t catch him in time. The Stormguard was already gaining distance, his horse’s hooves kicking up smoke-colored dust as he tore down the path.

Just as Hayden’s mind raced to think of another plan, the sky darkened momentarily, and a crackling energy filled the air. From the swirling storm clouds above, a brilliant flash illuminated the mountainside. With a deafening crash, a massive purple lightning bolt streaked down from the heaven’s, impacting the fleeing guard and his mount. The bolt was so intense, so fierce, that Hayden instinctively flinched, feeling the raw, terrible power of the strike.

The lightning incinerated the Stormguard and his horse instantly, leaving nothing but scorched earth and a faint, charred outline where they had been. Even from his distance, Hayden could feel the immense destructive strength of the attack, and he realized with a pang of alarm that had he been in its path, he too would have been obliterated—no matter his supposed immunity.

The silence returned, the echoes of the thunder fading into the mountains. Slowly, Hayden’s gaze drifted upward to the edge of the cliff above, where a familiar figure floated down from the rocks, descending gracefully on a cushion of swirling wind. Master Tharn touched down with the ease of someone swinging down from their horse.

The Gale Master took in the scene with a faint smile, his gaze lingering on Hayden and the bodies scattered around him. He strode forward, his booted footsteps muted against the stone, and nodded approvingly. “Well done, Hayden.”

The golem straightened, the lingering energy from the battle still crackling faintly across his stone skin. “If you could do that,” Hayden said, his telepathic voice echoing, “why didn’t you just eliminate the entire group yourself?”

He gestured to the blackened remains of the guard and horse, his tone edged with curiosity and fear. “That lightning…you could’ve ended this before it even started.”

Master Tharn chuckled, crossing his arms, his smile widening. “Oh, I could have. But where would the value be in that? This wasn’t a test of my abilities. It was a test of yours.”

He met Hayden’s faze, his eyes gleaming with a mix of pride and calculation. “Sturmveil doesn’t reward the passive. If you’re going to be my weapon, I need to know that you’ll act, that you’ll strike when the time is right. As your king well knows, a warrior without experience is as useful as a peasant farmer. Probably less, to be honest.”

The Gale Master inclined his head, gesturing toward the fallen Stormguard. “Remember this, Hayden,” he said, his tone shifting, taking on a dangerous edge. “The power I used to destroy that guard isn’t something you should hope to control—at least, not yet. The storms of Sturmveil aren’t your allies. They’re forces waiting to crush you if you aren’t careful.”

Hayden absorbed the words, feeling the weight of the Gale Master’s warning settle on him. Master Tharn had shown him both the potential and the threat of warriors further on the path of ascendancy. He’d tasted a fraction of that power through the energy he’d absorbed, but he knew now that he was still far from reaching the peak of strength in this land.

Master Tharn’s eyes shifted back to him, the calculating gleam returning. “This was just a taste. It’s time to meet the rest of the Order and plan where to utilize you to your fullest potential.”