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.

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

artifact but a fabled sphere of

spectacle. Instinctively, she apprehended the intensifying luminescence in Rose’s grasp. Unless she intervened, a perilous prospect loomed, Rose might well be endangered by

cried out on impulse, “My Sonya, hurry! There

his retort unhesitating, “The timing

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

seemed the sigil

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

disquiet evident, questioned, “Is this Thunderbolt’s

The Mother of Pu’er

In the next heartbeat, an

unprecedented velocity. Then, a cacophony unfurled—thunderclaps, a network

As though Rose’s lightning had ignited a performance, the celestial

ever nearer. Swiftly, Rose took

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

like a barrage of detonated explosives. Simultaneously,

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

Rose cried out,

unwavering as she shouted over the storm, “I sense

hold her back, urgent to keep her

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