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.

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

the Thunderbolt seemed transmuted, not a mere artifact but

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

impulse, “My Sonya, hurry! There

retort unhesitating, “The timing is

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

it seemed the sigil demanded

sky’s obscurity had swollen to a bottomless void—abyssal

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

Rose raised his hand, where radiance still intensified, and strained to answer, “It appears so. The Mother of Pu’er stirs. The Thunderbolt, a fragment of her essence, now answers her call.

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

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

with augmented brilliance and density. As though Rose’s lightning had

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

positioned directly above the barren, rain-soaked terrain. A bolt, massive as a bowl, descended from the cloud,

a barrage of detonated

retreated. But Maria broke away, heedless of her drenched state, sprinting toward the spot where

Rose cried out,

Maria was undeterred, her steps unwavering as she

to

“She is here! I think she