The river flowed serenely across the sky, like nectar of the gods, sparkling with crystalline brilliance. Yet amidst its beauty floated divine corpses, disturbing its aesthetic.
Shi Hao stood rooted here, silently comprehending. This time, he had gained immensely. His thunderous power broke free of its constraints, transcending the limitations of the Saber-Toothed Tiger’s Sacred Art, taking a monumental step forward.
Still as a stone when unmoving, yet once he stirred, lightning coiled around his body. Every pore exuded radiant electricity, wielding a mysterious and mighty mastery of thunder and lightning.
“Truly formidable!” he murmured, even to himself in awe.
To master it meant a tremendous surge in battle power. Thunder was among the most fearsome forces in existence; when perfected, it could eclipse all else in the world.
Recall how the Supreme Devil Monarch ultimately perished to divine lightning, struck down by forbidden thunder from the Heavens. His body was destroyed, his Dao obliterated.
In the past, although Shi Hao diligently studied thunder, he remained confined by the framework of the Saber-Toothed Tiger’s Sacred Art, unable to transcend it—until today, when he finally broke through, taking that vital step forward.
“Beyond this breakthrough, I can advance into the domain of Supreme Lightning, allowing this technique to keep evolving,” he thought.
He harbored ambition—to continuously research and comprehend lightning, merging various thunder glyphs into one, forging forbidden techniques not inferior to the Ten Great Sacred Arts.
Especially now, since he couldn’t use the Laws and Dao of the lower world—lest others discover him—he needed to evolve and break through on his own, developing other techniques independently.
A pair of silver eyes opened, gleaming like sword tips from afar, fixing their gaze upon Shi Hao.
The Milky Way shimmered with crystalline light, flowing through the Void (void), illuminating the surrounding area in brightness.
However, slightly farther away, mist lingered, hazy and dim—just like other parts of Demon Isle, brimming with mystery and the unknown.
A fierce beast approached silently, then suddenly erupted, charging through the sky, streaked with countless silver bolts, targeting Shi Hao.
On Demon Isle, all malevolent spirits understood the art of thunder.
Shi Hao calmly turned around. He had already sensed the beast approaching. With a wave of his hand, a ribbon-like arc shot from his palm, aimed at the beast—a Venerable One (Zunzhe) level beast.
It was a lizard, its body pale silver, its eyes cold and lifeless. It had dwelled in this area for centuries, a rare expert at the Venerable One (Zunzhe) stage.
Demon Isle—where the true blood of Devil Monarchs and Xian Dao (Xian Dao) thunder energies nurtured mysterious and formidable lifeforms, brimming with the unknown and danger.
Yet, in their first clash, the lizard let out a shriek. Its four-century cultivation shattered as silver thunder was pierced through. Its scales flew, blood gushed.
It could not match Shi Hao, gravely wounded in their first exchange.
Shi Hao changed his palm into a blade, thunder cleaving forward. The Dozens of zhangs (zhàng) silver lizard quickly evaded, spitting out a protective treasure to block.
But it was too late. The thunderous blade sliced through its treasure, pierced its armor, and severed it at the waist, sending blood raining.
Finally, with a Boom (hòng), explosive thunder energy erupted. The Venerable One-level beast disintegrated into dust.
A minor test of strength, the might of lightning was extraordinary. Shi Hao was very satisfied. Continuing along the Milky Way, he moved deeper.
For these past fifteen days, it had always been thus—practicing for a while, then advancing. Around this river, thunder power was dense, making it an ideal place to refine lightning glyphs.
On this journey of cultivation, he kept walking and stopping, each time sitting cross-legged to take out a golden strange herb, studying its glyphs—gaining immensely.
“When I reach the deepest point, consuming this herb might yield unexpected results,” he murmured.
The herb held no consciousness, no awareness of cultivation, yet it contained mysterious patterns. Shi Hao guessed they were residual traces of ancient Xian Dao (Xian Dao) thunder, scattered across Demon Isle, partially absorbed by this plant.
“This stone is mine,” said Da Shen Shi.
The herb was dazzling, rooted within a stone the size of a human head, also containing lightning and glyphs within. Together, they shone like a blazing sun.
“Let me fully comprehend them first. Though incomplete, these glyphs are still profoundly significant,” Shi Hao replied. It was closely related to his breakthrough from the Saber-Toothed Tiger’s Sacred Art.
Moreover, he believed consuming the herb, purified by a trace of Xian Dao (Xian Dao) residue, would make his body more attuned to thunder, refining his sacred art to a higher level.
“This curse is unbearable!” Da Shen Shi grumbled.
Traveling along the Milky Way, the greatest danger wasn’t the attacks of beasts, but the curse power—intangible and formless, difficult to resist.
This was also why, despite all knowing the Fairy Grave (Xian Fen)—the graveyard of Immortals—lay at the river’s end, none—including sect masters—dared approach.
The curse was terrifying; if not completely eradicated, it could weaken victims until their Dao foundation crumbled and their bodies dissolved.
Legend had it that once, an Upperworld giant perished thus, sending shockwaves throughout the cultivation world, deterring many from further exploration.
“This curse’s power increases with cultivation strength; the stronger one is, the more intense the sensation,” Shi Hao murmured. He had heard this from others after arriving at Demon Isle.
Perhaps the curse was weakest for mortals, but how could the weak survive the onslaught of beasts along the way? Progress would be impossible.
Shi Hao trekked eight hundred more li, pressure increasing. This curse was truly dreadful, forming Enchanting and Alluring (yāo yàn) and eerie patterns on his body.
However, Shi Hao could still resist and continually erase them, though pressure was mounting.
He had once defeated the curse of the Xian Hall, acquiring some experience against mystical forces. Thus, he pressed onward undeterred.
Two days later, Shi Hao had reached an extremely deep area along the Milky Way. The curse runes shone like stars, materializing into reality.
“Hmm, someone once meditated here, setting up certain formations,” he quickly arrived at the riverbank. Here stood a stone mountain, suspended in the air, majestic and silent.
He had traveled for more than twenty days without seeing a soul. Seeing such a place now filled him with astonishment—another cultivator, as determined as he, had come this deep.
He flew onto a cliff, reaching a high terrace where inscribed words caught his eye. Instantly, his body trembled. He rushed forward, running his hands over the markings.
The words, fragmented, conveyed the Inscriber’s (carver’s) moods, allowing resonance. It felt as if he could truly empathize.
“Hao Er… are you… still alive?”
A simple sentence, brimming with regret, tenderness, and sorrow, instantly blurred Shi Hao’s vision. He cried out: “Grandfather! I am still alive!”
Back then, Shi Fifteen had escaped confinement, charging all the way into Stone City, learning of his grandson’s loss of his The Supreme SovereignBone (Zunzhi Bone), missing for over a decade. His fury and unwillingness were indescribable.
Yet, he refused to believe his grandson dead. Later, he pursued his son to the Never Aging Mountain only to suffer disaster and accidentally reach the Upperworld.
“Grandfather, I am still alive. Do not grieve. We shall reunite!” Shi Hao shouted, his voice reverberating across the Milky Way. He longed to see his grandfather at once, to tell him he still lived.
Upon entering the Upperworld, even hearing of his grandson’s reappearance—participating in the Stone Battle, conquering all foes—ultimately led to further grief.
Later, the Seven Deities descended, and all knew how Shi Hao, seeking to confront them, eventually perished.
Shi Hao’s chest heaved; only after a long while did he calm.
“Grandfather, are you ahead?” he murmured, yearning for reunion, desperate to see the elder, to tell him—not only did he live—but he would carve an invincible path.
Shi Hao’s heart surged; his desire to grow stronger intensified. He kept cultivating and advancing forward relentlessly toward the Fairy Grave (Xian Fen).
“What a long road!”
While cultivating and journeying, nearly a month had passed without reaching the end. The curse shone ever more vividly.
Suddenly, ahead surged thunder to the heavens, radiant lights like clouds, and a humanoid figure was seen practicing thunder magic, displaying overwhelming might.
“There’s someone else who made it this far…”
Shi Hao expressed surprise. He had assumed all others who entered Demon Isle with him had stopped earlier. Meeting someone else here was unexpected.
“This person… is formidable!” Shi Hao’s heart stirred as he watched from afar. This figure exuded terrifying aura, like a prehistoric beast, extremely terrifying.
He felt this individual was no less mighty than the prodigies he had seen in the Upperworld.
Suddenly, the sky’s lightning condensed into a fierce bird, diving into the figure’s body, revealing his true form. Shi Hao was astonished—he recognized this person.
Pale in complexion, looking listless, with eyes that lacked brilliance, devoid of vibrant spirit.
“It’s him!” Shi Hao realized, recalling that from the moment they entered Demon Isle, he had sensed this man’s absolute might—he could be a prodigy.
Now it seemed so indeed!
Of course, the other noticed Shi Hao. Their gazes met in mid-air; they locked eyes from afar.
Finally, Shi Hao walked forward and said: “Brother, you’ve reached the peak of Thunder Dao artistry.”
“Brother Dao exaggerates,” the youth replied.
He didn’t carry himself like other elite youths, radiant and full of vitality. Instead, there was always something solemn and subdued about him—perhaps one might call him steady.
They exchanged a few words, and Shi Hao learned that this person’s name was Li Yun Cong, from Tian Yun State.
Shi Hao’s mind stirred, recalling a rumor: “I heard a man with double pupils emerged in Tian Yun, hailed as an unattainable myth—is it true?”
This was already renowned; a double-pupiled being appeared, defeating a prodigy from Tian Yun, drawing the attention of various sects.
Li Yun Cong was silent for a moment, then nodded. “I was the one who fought him—and suffered defeat.”
Shi Hao was stunned. Unexpectedly, one of the parties involved stood before him, which surprised him greatly. This person was a prodigy, yet had suffered a heavy defeat!
“My apologies—I didn’t know,” Shi Hao offered.
“No problem,” Li Yun Cong shook his head. He had given his all in that battle, yet still lost. He was not the opponent’s match.
“How formidable was that double-pupiled being?” Shi Hao felt unease within. His first life-or-death battle was against Shi Yi, an extremely arduous duel that nearly crippled him.
“I engaged him for five hundred moves, utterly dominated throughout. Once the double-pupil technique emerged, it crushed all opposition, an undefeated myth indeed,” Li Yun Cong sighed.
Since birth, he had never lost a battle, reigning as the undisputed monarch across several states, the mightiest in his generation within Tian Yun.
Yet the double-pupil technique shattered all his glory, suppressing him entirely. Even using the exclusive supreme sacred art of prodigies could not counter it.
Shi Hao felt a chill. Li Yun Cong was extraordinary, and he could sense terrifying divine might within the man’s body—but even he was defeated.
Li Yun Cong was definitely a prodigy, even one of the best among them—showing how formidable the double-pupiled being must be.
“What did he look like?” Shi Hao asked, a suspicion forming.
“Confident, composed, tall, with eyebrows…” As Li Yun Cong described, Shi Hao’s heart trembled violently. That figure bore an uncanny resemblance to Shi Yi?!
Li Yun Cong, candid, told it all. After defeat, he left Tian Yun, exploring one forbidden ground after another, seeking breakthroughs.
“Hearing Demon Isle harbored lingering Xian Dao (Xian Dao) lightning, I thought to retrace a path, studying thunder techniques—thus, I came here.”
Upon hearing this, Shi Hao said, “Coincidence. I also wish to study lightning Dao law, thus I plunged deep into this restricted domain.”
Though cautious toward each other, they got along surprisingly well, and eventually began sparring—using only lightning glyphs, no other sacred arts.
Behind Li Yun Cong emerged a fierce bird, wings splitting the sky, trailing endless thunderclouds, covering the heavens in an astonishing sight, causing the Milky Way to surge with waves.
“I obtained a scripture—recording the Law and Dao of the Ancient Thunderbird,” he explained.
Shi Hao was surprised. This surely belonged to a mighty arcane discipline of Thunder Dao. He didn’t hide it either, revealing he had learned the Ancient Saber-Toothed Tiger’s Sacred Art.
“Excellent, evenly matched—perfect for sparring,” Li Yun Cong exclaimed, his pale face blushing slightly.
A battle ensued—seemingly fierce but actually measured and restrained, neither seeking to kill, only aiming to comprehend Dao and Law.
Despite mutual vigilance, this did not hinder their sparring and exchange.
Finally, Shi Hao proposed, “These two sacred arts are evenly matched. How about we exchange techniques?”
Li Yun Cong expressed surprise but quickly nodded. “Agreed—let’s exchange!”
For ordinary cultivators, such a hasty decision would be unthinkable—caution and vigilance would prevent it. But these two were extraordinary, each brimming with confidence.
Li Yun Cong retrieved a bone fragment, inscribed in detail the Thunderbird’s Law and Dao—a treasure he obtained long ago from an ancient cultivator’s retreat.
Shi Hao, seeing his sincerity, revealed nothing hidden. He retrieved a bone, carefully carving the complete Saber-Toothed Tiger Sacred Art, with no omissions.
Their exchange was harmonious, leading to much discussion on cultivation insights.
Finally, Shi Hao retrieved the golden strange herb, inviting Li Yun Cong to examine it and gauge its worth.
“What an enormous blessing,” Li Yun Cong exclaimed, having heard rumors of Demon Isle’s rare plants containing traces of Xian Dao (Xian Dao) thunder runes—veritable priceless treasures.
“This should be refined into liquid form, then consumed while meditating—it can hasten mastery over the thunder Dao,” he advised.
He stated plainly that if Shi Hao practiced the Thunderbird’s Dao and combined it with this herb, he could achieve rapid success with astonishing effects.
Shi Hao was delighted. He originally intended to integrate various lightning glyphs, advancing into the Supreme Thunder Domain and evolving it into a forbidden sacred art. This exchange provided the perfect opportunity.
“I thought I gained a great blessing, already quite fortunate. Yet, Brother Huang (Brother Desolate), you also have such a rare encounter,” Li Yun Cong retrieved a segment of purple divine wood.
“What is this?” Shi Hao inquired curiously.
“This is Thunder God Wood, soaked for countless ages in the Milky Way, containing infinite thunder force—it can assist my cultivation,” Li Yun Cong explained.
Shi Hao inhaled sharply. This fellow was truly extraordinary to dare retrieving such an item from the Milky Way—most people who even attempted would perish.
“Just luck,” Li Yun Cong said, somewhat fearful. “Brother—you mustn’t risk it. I almost perished myself in that cursed river.”
Finally, they parted ways, each needing to retreat into seclusion to comprehend thunder Dao.
Several days later, Shi Hao sat cross-legged. Before him, the golden strange herb began dissolving, becoming golden liquid, glowing with countless glyphs, reflecting myriad realms—mysterious and wondrous!
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