The Charismatic Charlie Wade

Maria’s words ignited a spark within Rose as well!

He found himself captivated by the many coincidences unfolding before him.

How had this mysterious dark cloud suddenly descended, casting an eerie shroud over them all?

Why did the dark cloud reflect the unsettling image of quivering hexagrams?

Why did it lack the usual accompaniment of thunder and lightning?

And why had it chosen to manifest exactly where the Mother of Pu’er had faced her tragic failure?

Moreover, he had just harnessed the lightning-scarred wood born from the Mother’s failed tribulation, birthing an entirely new thunderous power. A confluence of enigmatic elements left him grappling for answers, and only Maria’s conjecture provided a solution that could reconcile all uncertainties.

With this realization unfurling within, Rose blurted out resolutely, “Then, I shall beckon forth a tempest for the brooding skies!”

Maria’s enthusiastic nod was laden with anticipation as she proclaimed, “The Mother of Pu’er and the loyal servant stand beside. A favorable chance beckons, and God watches over. Your efforts are abetted!”

Drawing forth the Thunderbolt, Rose held it in his palm, his gaze steadfast upon the deepening, thickening black cloud overhead. With a breath that concealed the suppressed aura, he invoked the incantation in his heart.

And then, with unswerving determination, Rose cried out, “Let thunder strike forth!”

From his very being surged chi that coursed through the eight extraordinary meridians, torrentially surging into the Thunderbolt clasped in his hand.

inner brilliance, its luster permeating outward. Most of Rose’s internal aura was drawn into the thunder

seemed transmuted, not a mere artifact

in Rose’s grasp. Unless she intervened, a perilous prospect loomed, Rose might well be endangered

on impulse, “My Sonya,

unhesitating, “The

would gather, and the sky would resound with its roars, with lightning promptly descending. Yet, this instance proved unparalleled. Rose’s invocation resounded, yet the Thunderbolt

seemed the sigil

the sky’s obscurity had swollen to a

this

still intensified, and strained to answer, “It appears so. The Mother of Pu’er stirs. The Thunderbolt, a fragment of her

lips, the Thunderbolt’s brilliance ebbed. In the next heartbeat, an imperceptibly potent energy burst forth from it, hurtling toward

in a crescendo. Simultaneously, the inky expanse above churned with unprecedented velocity. Then, a cacophony unfurled—thunderclaps, a

brilliance and density. As though Rose’s lightning had ignited a performance, the celestial theater

drawing ever nearer. Swiftly, Rose took Maria’s hand, ushering

terrain. A bolt, massive as a bowl,

barrage of detonated explosives. Simultaneously, torrents poured from the

bone, Rose and Maria hurriedly retreated. But Maria broke away, heedless of her drenched state, sprinting toward the spot where the Mother

cried out, “Wait!

unwavering as she shouted

hurried to hold her back, urgent to keep her safe, “Who? The Pu’er

trembled, her affirmation resolute. “She is here! I