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.

outward. Most of Rose’s internal aura was drawn into

not a mere artifact but a fabled sphere of lightning seen in

intensifying luminescence in Rose’s grasp. Unless she

out on impulse, “My Sonya, hurry! There is no time to

his retort unhesitating, “The timing is beyond

clouds 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 retained its lightning, amassing energy, as if

it seemed the

the sky’s obscurity had swollen to a

disquiet evident, questioned, “Is this Thunderbolt’s master no longer the Young

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

Thunderbolt’s brilliance ebbed. In the next heartbeat, an imperceptibly potent energy burst

the inky expanse above churned with unprecedented velocity. Then, a cacophony unfurled—thunderclaps, a network of lightning reminiscent of entwined roots, fracturing the

As though Rose’s lightning

its descent upon Heaven Lake, drawing ever nearer. Swiftly,

the barren, rain-soaked terrain. A bolt, massive as a bowl,

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

Maria hurriedly retreated. But Maria broke away, heedless of her

Rose cried out, “Wait!

undeterred, her steps unwavering as she shouted over the

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

resolute. “She is here! I think she