Chapter 108: Aspiring to Protect the Path

With a thunderous roar, the cave entrance was sealed.

Gu Cang sat within the cave. The front had collapsed, and the master had directly sealed the rear, causing a long stretch of the mountain path—about a hundred paces—to cave in. It was now effectively trapped here, and given its current level of cultivation, escaping would not be easy. However, once it refined this thunderstone, the situation would be entirely different.

"Master..."

Gu Cang knew that within the Daoist schools, there were figures who focused solely on the Great Dao and neglected sorcery. Though their cultivation was profound and their power immense, they possessed few spells to cast. Such reclusive masters were often accompanied by powerful guardians. Similarly, the Buddhist sects had Vajra protectors specifically tasked with guarding monks who focused on Chan philosophy rather than supernatural abilities. As for the Confucian scholars, who recognized reason and understood the will of Heaven, they too might have warriors stationed by their sides.

No longer the ignorant spirit it once was, Gu Cang understood that its master was single-mindedly devoted to the Dao and likely took it in with such a role in mind.

Gu Cang stood in the dark cave, its black fur blending into the shadows, save for its golden eyes, which shimmered with light. A tuft of white fur upon its head glowed like a third eye. It reached out and pressed its hand onto the thunderstone. As it channeled its inner energy, the stone pulsed with light, and a blue-and-white brilliance traced along the thunder-markings.

"Such things, where the master must put himself in danger, must not happen again," it thought. "I must strive to improve my abilities so that I may truly serve as the master's protector."

...

Qingyuan walked out of the cave, looking back with a sigh. He continued along the original path, carrying the iron rod in his hand, its surface etched with dark red thunder-markings. Gazing at these markings and thinking of the thunderstone, the final words spoken by Huamei before she left surfaced in his mind.

...

"Do you know the reason for the divine thunder that blankets the entirety of Mount Fuzhong?"

"What is the reason?"

"It is said that had there not been a catastrophe, this divine thunder should have resided high above in the Nine Heavens. Once the Consecration of the Gods was complete, it would have become a deity and the rightful master of the Thunder Department."

...

"The master of the Thunder Department?"

Qingyuan took a deep breath and whispered, "So, the Thunder God perished prematurely?"

When he was at the Immortal Palace, he had heard his senior brother, Qingyang, mention that among the Eight Departments of Deities, the deity of the Thunder Department had yet to manifest or even be born. He had never imagined that the Thunder God was merely a bolt of lightning at that time, and this primordial lightning, destined to manifest as a god, had fallen upon Mount Fuzhong and shattered into thousands of divine thunderbolts.

"How could this be? Was it an accident, or was it fated by Heaven?"

The Thunder God had perished, yet his essence had splintered into thousands of bolts. Qingyuan could roughly guess that any cultivator who obtained such a bolt would be imbued with a measure of destiny. While this destiny might not necessarily grant these cultivators a divine office in the Thunder Department after death, it would certainly be a significant boon. There were many in the world who practiced thunder arts; even if they had not come to Mount Fuzhong or obtained the divine thunder, those with sufficient destiny and high enough cultivation still held a chance to enter the Thunder Department and earn a divine office in the future.

"But if we look at the reality of it, most of those who obtained the divine thunder of Mount Fuzhong would surely have a hope of becoming deities in the Thunder Department should they die during the period of the Consecration of the Gods, wouldn't they?"

Qingyuan mused, "The Shouzhen Daoist sect follows the will of Heaven and would not monopolize such things... but the cultivators allied with the Southern Liang are unwilling to let these opportunities fall into the hands of others. Is that why they dispatched troops to blockade Luoyue County?"

For some reason, he felt a sudden chill. How did the primordial divine thunder come to fall upon Mount Fuzhong? And what did this have to do with the treasures within the mountain?

...

A gentle, comfortable mountain breeze blew. The treetops swayed, and the green leaves rustled.

Suddenly, a loud crash echoed as a figure fell from above, snapping branches and slamming into the ground, embedding itself into the earth. The person spat out a mouthful of blood.

From a tree on the other side, another figure leaped down, landing with a foot planted firmly on the first man's chest. Looking down, he laughed, "Do you think you are worthy of dueling with me? Come, you are coming with me now..."

The man on the ground was in agony, his attempts to circulate his inner energy blocked by the foot on his chest. Gritting his teeth, he asked, "Sun Wenpeng, what exactly do you want?"

"What do I want?" Sun Wenpeng stood with his hands behind his back. "I am merely asking for a favor..."

Without waiting for the man to speak, Sun Wenpeng reached down and seized him.

"Third-tier cultivation is not bad... but you are still far from being able to fight me. Even if you were at the peak of the third tier, how could you possibly resist the immortal arts passed down by the Sun family?"

He kicked the man, using his inner energy to seal his meridians, and prepared to carry him away. Just then, there was a commotion ahead.

Emerging from the woods was a young man dressed in white Daoist robes that shimmered with a faint blue light. Though he wore the robes, he did not wear his hair in a traditional Daoist bun. His features were upright and fair, his expression cold and detached. He stood still, watching the scene before him without much surprise.

"Another third-tier cultivator?" Sun Wenpeng raised an eyebrow, a flicker of strange light in his eyes. After a careful assessment, confirming that this person did not belong to the ranks of those he could not afford to provoke, he nodded. "The more, the better..."

With that, he tossed aside the rogue cultivator he had been holding and waved his hand, sending a black iron sphere hurtling toward the young man.

"Iron God-Orb?"

Qingyuan whispered, "A member of the Sun family?"

Had he employed other Daoist arts, he might have been able to seize the Iron God-Orb for his own use, but since the opponent had struck first, Qingyuan had no choice but to unleash a burst of flame to repel it. This flame was far more powerful than the fire talismans he had used previously.

The Iron God-Orb, struck by the flame, plummeted instantly, its outer layer twisted and ruined like scrap metal.

"Instant casting of Daoist arts?"

Sun Wenpeng’s gaze sharpened. Even a cultivator at the peak of the third tier might not necessarily possess such skill. However, relying on his background as a cultivation family—with a patriarch at the fifth tier and deep, profound traditions—he felt his own abilities were extraordinary and did not fear ordinary cultivators.

He kept his hands behind his back and said flatly, "You have some skill, but here in Mount Fuzhong, aside from those who hail from sects like the Shouzhen Daoist sect or the Huanhua Pavilion, even a peak third-tier rogue cultivator must surrender and be captured."

Qingyuan replied calmly, "The Sun family may lack other talents, but your ability to talk is certainly impressive."

Sun Wenpeng suddenly smiled and brought his hands to his front. It turned out that while he had kept his hands behind his back, he had been silently forming hand seals to cast a spell.

With a release of his hands, a surge of green light, roughly a foot thick, erupted forward like a green dragon.

The cultivator on the ground turned pale. His cultivation was slightly superior to Sun Wenpeng's, but this very "Green Dragon Transformation Technique" had been nearly impossible to resist, leading to his eventual defeat and his current state of helplessness.

"This young man is finished..." he sighed inwardly.

The green light surged forward, accompanied by the faint sound of a dragon's roar.

"A green dragon? It barely qualifies as a green snake."

Qingyuan raised his iron rod, pointing it forward. The dark red thunder-markings appeared on his arm, and lightning crackled along the rod before erupting outward.

The crimson lightning met the green light head-on.

The green light shattered instantly. The lingering power of the thunder continued on toward Sun Wenpeng.

"What?"

Only then did Sun Wenpeng's look of complete confidence vanish, replaced by a face contorted in terror. As the lightning dispersed the green light, he seized the brief moment of delay to frantically throw an object and dodge in a panic.