Briar skipped right past him. In its arms was a ball of white light. It ran straight to Lauren. Gerald stood there, enthusiasm utterly ignored, frozen in awkward silence.
“Quick,” Briar said. “Give this to the God Venerable.”
Lauren blinked. “What is it?”
“The Nascent Soul of that fat bastard from earlier.”
It placed the glowing white sphere beside Edmund. Edmund’s eyes fluttered open weakly. He parted his lips— And slowly drew the Nascent Soul into his body.
After absorbing the first sphere of energy, Edmund’s color improved almost immediately.
Briar, looking extremely pleased with itself, produced another glowing white ball. “And this one’s from that skinny bastard with the missing arm.”
Good lord. So neither of them had actually escaped. They’d both been taken out while trying to run—picked off by Briar lurking in the shadows like a patient executioner.
Edmund inhaled the second Nascent Soul.
Power flowed through him in visible waves. His body, which had felt like overcooked noodles moments ago, slowly regained substance.
With Lauren’s support, he was able to sit upright.
“Better?” she asked quietly.
He nodded. “Much better.”
.......
High above, the Temple Master’s Light Domain was completely crushed beneath Drake’s Thunder Domain.
She finally understood the gap between them. With a sharp cry, she lashed out with her horsetail whisk.
Drake didn’t even blink. His blade—Thor’s Sword, a true celestial weapon—met the attack without hesitation.
Lightning surged along the edge of the sword as he slashed downward.
The whisk expanded wildly, white threads multiplying into towering waves of spiritual force—but it didn’t matter. The sword cleaved through it like paper.
The whisk split cleanly in two. Strands scattered through the air like shredded silk.
Drake stepped through the swirling debris and arrived before her in the next breath.
The Temple Master’s face went ashen. “Wait!” she shouted. “You’re a rare genius. I can report to the Upper Realm. We can grant you ascension—no restrictions, no trials—”
Drake’s expression didn’t change. “Why would I, Drake, need anyone’s permission to ascend?” His sword fell.
Boom.
The Temple Master was split into two charred halves. Her Nascent Soul didn’t even have time to escape. Completely annihilated. For a heartbeat—
Silence.
Then thunderous cheers erupted from the Thunder Sect. He won.
But Drake didn’t relax. Instead, he lifted his head and looked into the heavens. His spiritual power surged to its absolute peak.
The sky darkened again. This time, it wasn’t the Thunder Domain. It wasn’t a descending enemy. It was—
Gerald’s face went pale. “…Ascension Tribulation.”
“What?”
“Mr. Drake is ascending?!”
“Yes,” Gerald said hoarsely. “That’s the Ascension Tribulation.”
“Now? Isn’t this too sudden?!”
Gerald shook his head. “This seclusion was for that very purpose. Once he stepped out… he was always going to ascend.”
It wasn’t sudden for Drake. Only for the rest of them.
Boom!
The first bolt of heavenly lightning descended. Drake didn’t dodge. He simply endured it.
The Ascension Tribulation consisted of eighty-one lightning strikes. With Drake’s strength, at least half of them wouldn’t even make him flinch.
......
Far away, in the Far North—
Ice that had lain frozen for tens of thousands of years suddenly cracked.
Wind howled. Clouds churned. Heavenly lightning tore through the sky, splitting the ancient ice sheet apart.
.......
Far away, over the South Sea—
“Brother, can we stop this already?” Silent Fang complained while weaving through the clouds. “You can’t kill me anyway. Aren’t you tired?”
“Why don’t we sit down? I’ll make you some tea.”
“Oh for fuck’s sake, you’re not tired, but I am!”
The Sword Cultivator chased him relentlessly. Then—
Both of them paused. They felt it. The Sword Cultivator’s face darkened.
Someone… ascended? So the Temple Master failed.
Silent Fang’s eyes lit up. “Oh my—someone ascended!”
He trembled with excitement. “The Ancestor said… if I ever sensed someone ascending, that would be my chance to truly transform.”
He turned to the Sword Cultivator with a grin. “Brother, I’m done playing with you. I’m going to become a dragon now. Goodbye.”
In an instant, he dispelled the barrier that had confined him for years and shot off into the horizon. Heavenly lightning began chasing him from behind.
On the coast, fishermen stared in stunned silence. An old man suddenly dropped to his knees. “The Sea God!”
“It’s the Sea God who saved us!”
“It disappeared over a thousand years ago!”
“It’s undergoing tribulation! Quick—light incense! Pray!”
The Sword Cultivator sheathed his blade and hovered above the sea, hands clasped behind his back, watching from afar.
......
Thunder Sect. Lauren nudged Edmund. “Hey… my master’s ascending.”
“I know,” Edmund replied calmly. “In a moment, lend me your body.”
“…Again?”
“Mm.”
She hesitated a fraction of a second, then nodded. “Fine.” Before she could prepare herself—
Edmund took control immediately.
Lauren: “…” Didn’t you say in a moment?!
Her body straightened under his control. He withdrew the Five-Color Ball and held it tightly, eyes fixed on the sky.
Ready.
The disciples below began counting in unison. “One!” “Two!”
The lightning fell in rapid succession. By the fiftieth bolt, Drake still stood unmoving in midair. “That’s insane…”
“The Immortal Venerable doesn’t even have a Dragon Spirit Root!”
“But he has a Thunder Spirit Root! He’s refining the lightning as it strikes!”
“Yeah—he’s not just enduring it. He’s absorbing it!”
“Fifty-one!”
“Fifty-two!”
“Fifty-three!”
The bolts continued crashing down.
“Sixty!” And he still hadn’t moved.
Gerald lifted his chin smugly, looking at the younger disciples like they were a bunch of clueless brats.
This? This is nothing.
He’d witnessed Drake’s Mahayana breakthrough when he was still a young cultivator.
Back then, Drake endured sixty out of sixty-four tribulation bolts head-on. Only the last few required evasive maneuvers. The counting grew louder.
“Sixty-one!”
“Sixty-two!”
“Sixty-three!”
Excitement surged through the crowd like wildfire.
They didn’t see Drake move again until the count reached seventy-two.
Nine bolts remained. Drake stood tall in the storm, robes in tatters, hair whipping wildly. He raised Thor’s Sword—and shot upward.
For a moment, man and blade were indistinguishable, his speed nearly merging with the sword itself.
A lightning bolt as thick as a bucket crashed down. Sword met thunder. The collision produced a deafening explosion that shook the entire mountain range.
Moments later—another bolt. He met it the same way. Sword. Lightning. Impact.
Three more bolts fell in succession. Three more times he carved straight through them, splitting thunder with steel. Then he finally dodged.
The lightning that missed him cleaved a distant mountain clean in half.
The already ruined clearing outside Thunder Sect—cratered and shattered from countless battles—was reduced to scorched wasteland.
Each bolt left behind a massive smoking pit, earth blackened and molten.
“Eighty!”
“Eighty-one—!” The final number echoed across the battlefield. For a heartbeat—
Silence. Then the disciples erupted into thunderous cheers.
He did it! But the cheering faltered almost immediately.
The dark clouds didn’t disperse. They thickened. The sky continued to churn, brewing more lightning.
Confusion rippled through the crowd. What the hell?
Boom!
Another bolt struck. The cheers died completely.
No one spoke. Did we miscount? Or… did Heaven?
.....
“God Venerable! God Venerable—there!” Briar tugged frantically at Lauren’s sleeve, pointing at a fleeting glimmer of faint purple light hidden deep within the clouds.
Before anyone understood what was happening—
Lauren shot into the sky. Straight toward the storm.
Drake sensed her approach instantly and rushed upward. A violet barrier of lightning wrapped around him, shielding her within.
“Drake,” Edmund’s voice said from Lauren’s body, calm and commanding, “that spot. Push me up.”
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