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.

Rose’s internal aura was drawn into the thunder sigil’s embrace. Each heartbeat reverberated through Rose’s grasp, the illumination growing more intense, accompanied by

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

in Rose’s grasp. Unless she intervened, a perilous prospect loomed, Rose might well be endangered by his own

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

retort unhesitating, “The timing

with its roars, with lightning promptly descending. Yet, this instance proved unparalleled. Rose’s invocation resounded, yet the Thunderbolt retained its lightning, amassing

seemed the sigil demanded more

sky’s obscurity had swollen to

this Thunderbolt’s master no longer the Young

where radiance still intensified, and strained to answer, “It appears so. The Mother of Pu’er stirs. The Thunderbolt, a fragment of her essence,

In the next

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

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

cloud commenced its descent upon Heaven Lake, drawing ever nearer. Swiftly, Rose took Maria’s hand,

the barren, rain-soaked terrain. A bolt, massive

of detonated explosives. Simultaneously, torrents poured from the sky, a deluge

the bone, Rose and Maria hurriedly retreated. But Maria broke away, heedless of her drenched state, sprinting toward the spot where the Mother

Rose cried out,

as she shouted over

to keep her safe, “Who? The

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