The vegetation rooted deeply into the sacred tomb, some exuding lush green vitality, some shimmering with silvery luster, some veiled in violet vapor, and others gleaming with golden brilliance—each interweaving in a dazzling display, laced with arcs of lightning.
Shi Hao’s breath quickened. These plants were priceless!
Each plant bore unique glyph patterns, brimming with thunderous power and a faint aura of celestial artistry. Their flickering sparks of electricity rendered them priceless treasures for those cultivating the lightning Tao arts.
One plant… two plants…
Shi Hao stared in awe. There were dozens—no, more than a hundred. This entire expanse of magical herbs was far rarer than the fields of divine herbs belonging to Heaven Deities.
Regrettably, Shi Hao could not gather them. For they grew upon the sacred tomb itself, unreachable.
Shi Hao’s heart pounded. Earlier in an ancient mine, he had excavated a golden mystical herb that swiftly helped him master the “Flood Dragon Falcon” technique, demonstrating miraculous effects. Now, discovering over a hundred of such plants at once surpassed even the wildest myths. Being able to harvest them would undoubtedly propel his command of thunder to an unparalleled peak.
“Indeed, this is truly a celestial grave.”
This tomb had existed for countless eons, shrouded in a thunderous celestial energy. Over millennia, it had given rise to these miraculous plants one after another.
Clearly, any living being entombed within would be of even greater value.
“Could this tomb really hold an immortal being—An Immortal?” murmured Shi Hao.
At the very summit of the tomb, fresh blood stained the grave. Crystalline and glistening like jade marrow, it radiated a crimson glow. Despite eons passing, it exuded an unrelenting aura of life.
Legends about it were ancient and unverified.
This rare vegetation, flourishing atop the grand tomb, each plant priceless—Shi Hao felt deep regret at the thought of leaving it behind. He longed to harvest just a few, but how could he approach them?
“I’ll risk it!”
Not too far from the tomb base were several plants, not perched on the high slope. Fixing his gaze there, he resolved to gamble with his life.
“Crack!”
No sooner had he drawn near than a luminous arc of lightning emerged, hurling him backward with a mighty explosion. His flesh split open, one side of his body charred black, blood flowing from his wounds.
This was the sacred tomb—it shone with destructive force, and even a body tempered like Shi Hao’s Vajra (golden bell), famed as sturdy as unbreakable steel, could not withstand its wrath.
Though his physical form far surpassed countless celestial-grade beasts, under the aura of celestial powers, he still suffered grievous wounds.
Yet, he did not falter. He immersed himself in understanding the lightning laws, emptying his mind and merging with the surrounding thunder glyphs—becoming one with them.
Remaining near this grand tomb and comprehending the Tao for this long was already a formidable challenge. Now, attempting to ascend the grave was an even greater obstacle. Each attempt ended in near-fatal injury.
“Again!”
Shi Hao’s bear-like stubbornness surged. He refused to surrender, undeterred.
“Boom!”
As he stepped onto the yellow earthen tomb, a surge of crimson light shot forth. Though not intensely radiant, this lightning moved like a blood blade, piercing through all defenses, slashing into Shi Hao’s body.
A spray of blood soared high. His back cracked open, blistered black. Thunder glyphs flared violently, threatening to tear him apart.
“This is my body being forged, a baptism by thunder!”
Shi Hao muttered through the agony. Only after a full day and night could he take a single step onto the grave and sit cross-legged to consolidate his position, refusing to fall back.
“Whoosh!”
Before long, a violet vapor drifted by, then erupted—an electric mist transformed into a ball of light, enveloping him and causing the area to churn violently.
His hair stood straight up, his body scorched and withered, his ancient layers of dead skin cracking apart. His plight was dire and exceedingly dangerous.
“Lightning enters my body,” he murmured. Now, he had no choice but to endure this “baptism,” attempting to integrate it with his essence, reducing further damage by harmonizing their energies.
After two full days and nights, he finally stabilized, seated at the grave’s base. His wounds healed, the ashen black skin peeled away, revealing once again his smooth, luminous complexion.
“Just one step gained!” he sighed. The nearest sapling—resembling a crimson ruby—was dozens of steps ahead. To dig it up seemed nearly impossible.
Nonetheless, he deeply realized that enduring this relentless lightning onslaught, continuously suffering injuries, was forging his body, enhancing his resilience to thunder.
Most crucially, he had grown increasingly attuned to the lightning, capable of harnessing it far better.
Yet, thinking of the dozens of steps still remaining, Shi Hao’s scalp tingled. Each step meant risking his life, suffering the most terrifying bombardments.
“Sssch!”
He extended a huge hand formed entirely of bone script, reaching forward. Instantly, an arc of lightning shattered his conjuration, leaving him vulnerable—his own body could barely move closer, let alone his techniques.
For those dozens of steps, Shi Hao spent no less than eight days, enduring daily explosions of blood and a charred body. It was a torment, akin to descending into hell itself.
Still, he progressed far faster than anticipated.
Throughout that time, he also resisted a curse. Fortunately, as he understood the laws of thunder here, the curse’s power diminished significantly.
On the ninth day, Shi Hao finally reached the blood-red sapling. He was on the verge of tears—this was his hard-earned reward.
“Cursed grave!” he muttered bitterly. Over days and nights, his hair stood straight out, even his breath expelled crackling electricity. His body was nearly roasted black.
But finally, success was near. This sapling would more than compensate for all losses. Its entire body shimmered red, though only a foot tall, densely covered in glyphs, surrounded by crimson lightning, emitting resonant humming sounds.
Undoubtedly, it would aid Shi Hao in advancing his lightning Tao arts. Just as when he mastered the “Flood Dragon Falcon” technique, this would enable him to swiftly break through to greater levels of thunder mastery.
Shi Hao carefully unearthed the sapling. During this process, his body was struck, splitting apart and discharging arcs of lightning from every pore.
“At last, one plant obtained!” he exhaled contentedly.
After resting several hours, he shifted his gaze to another plant. A hazy violet aura surrounded it, about six or seven steps away.
It took him three full days to approach. His entire body was dyed purple by arcs of lightning, howling in pain.
Cursing aloud, he thought—this was sheer torment. To harvest herbs here, he seemed little more than a sandbag, mercilessly battered and broken.
“A golden mushroom.”
His next target—a golden mushroom the size of a human head. Amidst crackling arcs, he spent two more days and nights successfully obtaining it.
Then, Shi Hao approached a jade-green bamboo stalk, no thicker than chopsticks, over two feet tall, entirely cloaked in emerald light and shimmering green auras.
…
Thus, Shi Hao unearthed five plants in succession—each brimming with lightning energy and marked by mysterious glyphs, exuding a delicate breath of celestial thunder.
When he sought to excavate more, he discovered none remained nearby.
He looked ahead, realizing the nearest plants were over a hundred feet away, all clustered towards the upper part of the grand tomb. To him, it seemed an insurmountable distance.
For each step forward cost grievous injuries.
Observing keenly, he found something far more alarming—the area above the tomb’s waist exuded not only curses and lightning but also thin tendrils of chaotic mist seeping from the earth.
That was absolutely impassable. To approach meant certain annihilation.
“True Celestial Thunder… buried within this tomb?!” Shi Hao realized he could proceed no further.
Step by step, he withdrew from the sacred tomb. A sense of relief washed over him as he descended, his body suddenly feeling lighter. The past days had burdened him with immense peril.
“Just leave like this?” Shi Hao scratched his head, circling the grave, feeling some regret.
Finally, after contemplation, he decisively drew out a magical artifact to try to gather—soil—from the sacred tomb.
The Divine Stone was stunned, gaping in disbelief. It struggled to find words; this was simply too outrageous—harvesting soil from a sacred grave!
“You are truly unique. Don’t you fear angering the departed?” The Divine Stone spoke.
“You don’t understand. These grave soils contain thunder power. They’re certainly supreme treasures—formidable weapons,” Shi Hao replied.
“Boom!”
Unfortunately, the artifact shattered—exploding instantly, disintegrated by thunder within the tomb soil.
Shi Hao stared, dumbfounded. Even the artifact could not contain this power.
“What now?” he muttered helplessly.
“What else? Run away fast. You have gone too far, not even sparing tomb soil,” the Divine Stone scoffed.
Scratching his head, Shi Hao desired to carry some soil home. Finally, he retrieved the Divine Stone from his inner sanctuary, saying, “You love devouring stones and soil the most. Swallow several ten thousand pounds.”
“#$%&*…” The Divine Stone cursed. Though a glutton, even it shuddered at devouring a sacred grave.
“You’re a fool! One bite could strengthen you immensely. Will you waste such a rare opportunity?” Shi Hao coaxed.
“Rather die than swallow! I’m principled!” The Divine Stone resolutely refused.
“You won’t eat it? Know this: it contains celestial aura. Miss this chance, and you’ll never find another!” Shi Hao warned, showcasing his recent cultivation achievements.
The Divine Stone hesitated, sensing the extraordinary energy within the grave soil. Finally, it gritted its teeth: “Alright! I’m Divine Stone with principles—And my principle is: For greater power, I… I will eat it!”
Shi Hao smirked. Principles? Right.
“Aaaah!” it screamed. The soil contained not only thunder but also curses. One bite unleashed fierce lightning, sending the Divine Stone spinning wildly, crackling with arcs.
“Killing me slowly!” It was a harsh battle. With Shi Hao’s help, the Divine Stone fought the curses, refined the thunder energy, and consumed the grave soil.
“This won’t suffice. I want to carry some soil away for future fights,” Shi Hao muttered.
Finally, biting his lip, he retrieved his Cauldron, stored away the contents, and declared, “Use it to collect some grave soil first. Later, I’ll purify and use it.”
Shi Hao began gathering grave soil with his sacred Cauldron, risking his life. Each tiny portion exploded violently, nearly killing him.
He spent half a month collecting little by little, finally fulfilling his wish—carrying half a Cauldron’s worth away.
“Brat… truly ruthless. Not even sacred graves spared. No remedy!” the Divine Stone grumbled.
Having walked a distance, Shi Hao stopped again, fixing his eyes on the gleaming Milky Way river, murmuring: “How do you think this river appears?”
The Divine Stone stared blankly, stunned speechless for a long while before replying, “Don’t tell me you intend to extract some of this river water too?”
“Don’t you sense its immense value?” Shi Hao said naturally, rolling up his sleeves, preparing to collect the Celestial River.
The Divine Stone gaped. “Don’t claim to know me anymore! Absolutely disgraceful!”
Undoubtedly, it became yet another torment. Attempting to gather the waters was perilous. Shi Hao was repeatedly exploded, his body splitting open, shrieking in agony.
“Deserved! Purely self-inflicted!” the Divine Stone gloated.
After several days, Shi Hao managed to do so. Each time taking mere drops, still enduring violent discharges, but slowly accumulating.
He cursed, jumped about, growled in frustration, but eventually succeeded. He departed, bearing vast quantities of river water—and a body of grievous wounds.
“Shameless creature… absolutely no scruples!” The Divine Stone grumbled all the way.
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