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.

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

mere artifact but a fabled sphere of lightning seen in science

such a spectacle. Instinctively, she apprehended the intensifying luminescence in Rose’s grasp. Unless she intervened, a perilous prospect loomed, Rose

on impulse, “My Sonya,

his retort unhesitating,

its roars, with lightning promptly descending. Yet, this instance proved unparalleled. Rose’s invocation resounded,

essence, it seemed the sigil demanded more

obscurity had swollen to a

“Is this Thunderbolt’s master no longer

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

brilliance ebbed. In the next heartbeat, an

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

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

descent upon Heaven Lake, drawing ever nearer. Swiftly, Rose took Maria’s

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

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

of her drenched state, sprinting toward the spot where the Mother of Pu’er had once

cried out, “Wait!

undeterred, her steps unwavering as she shouted

her back, urgent to keep her safe,

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