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.

Most of Rose’s internal aura was

that moment, the Thunderbolt seemed transmuted, not a mere artifact but a fabled sphere of lightning

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

out on impulse, “My Sonya,

head, his retort unhesitating,

descending. Yet, this instance proved unparalleled. Rose’s invocation resounded, yet the Thunderbolt retained its lightning, amassing energy, as if arbitrating the spell’s own

it seemed the sigil demanded

obscurity had swollen to a

“Is this Thunderbolt’s master no longer the

raised his hand, where radiance still intensified, and strained to answer, “It appears so. The Mother

brilliance ebbed. In the next heartbeat, an imperceptibly potent energy burst forth from it, hurtling toward the dark

unprecedented velocity. Then, a cacophony unfurled—thunderclaps, a network of lightning reminiscent of entwined roots, fracturing

brilliance and density. As though Rose’s lightning had ignited a

descent upon Heaven Lake, drawing ever nearer.

terrain. A bolt, massive as a bowl, descended from the cloud,

if daylight materialized, thunder exploding like a barrage of detonated explosives. Simultaneously, torrents poured from the sky, a deluge from

and Maria hurriedly retreated. But Maria broke away, heedless of her drenched state,

Rose cried out,

as she shouted over the

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

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