Overdraw the future and become a peerless martial god

Chapter 92 Qingli's Flash
"If it is used lightly, the Frost Lightning Source will be completely dissipated, and there will be no possibility of her returning."

Chu Ning gently stroked the pendant with her fingertips, feeling that trace of coldness still lingering—it was Qing Li's aura, not yet completely dissipated.

“Cangque…” he whispered the name, as if that lonely mountain in the far north was the final battlefield in his struggle against fate.

The words Li Jing'an had said echoed in his mind:
"The ancestral land of the Azure-Eyed Snow Fox, 'New Moon Ice Soul,' can hide the remnant soul of the Holy Son."

Hope is slim, and the road ahead is long and uncertain.

But if even this last glimmer of hope is given up, then Qingli will truly...

He closed his eyes, his heart churning, yet ultimately settled into a state of tranquility.

After a long while, he opened his eyes, raised his hand again, gathered lightning energy, and tried to use the method of "controlling lightning and drawing arrays" to seal off the outer perimeter of the blood curse into a lightning-patterned restricted area.

He doesn't want to completely eliminate it, but he can't do that right now.

But he could do one thing: trap the blood curse within the "Thunder Prison" to prevent it from continuing to devour the thunderous energy.

The lightning was like a knife, and blood spots erupted in a backlash.

Amidst the excruciating pain of his muscles tearing apart, he suddenly heard a voice.

Cold and sinister, as if emanating from the depths of a blood curse:
"Chu Ning...you won't last three breaths."

Despite the excruciating pain, Chu Ning gritted his teeth and injected the last wisp of lightning power into the center of the forbidden pattern.

"Click."

A very fine crack appeared, then quickly closed.

The lightning patterns, like chains, bound the blood curse. It roared and struggled, but could not break free from the prison drawn by Chu Ning with lightning.

Chu Ning let out a long breath; his back was soaked with cold sweat.

He gripped the pendant tightly, lightning arcs exploding and slicing his palm through his fingers; blood and frost lightning intertwined to form a vow of unwavering faith:

"The northernmost azure palace."

"Strength. The only way to get out of a predicament is to have enough strength."

He murmured something, his fingertips unconsciously digging into the edge of the bed, splinters falling as if counting down his death.

He flipped his palm and made a grasping motion, and a yellowish jade slip shot out from the air.

The surface of the jade slip is covered with tangled thunder patterns, which seem to move around like living things. In the center, the ancient gilded seal script is like a thunderbolt striking down: "Thunderous Devouring Essence Technique".

The warning Li Jing'an gave Jian Shi still echoed in his ears: "When this technique is mastered, the Thunderous Aura can swallow mountains. But if one forcibly cultivates it before reaching the sixth rank... at best, one's meridians will be shattered; at worst, one will be transformed into a Thunder Puppet."

The jade slip was scalding hot to the touch, and the thunderous energy began to stir uncontrollably.

Chu Ning stared at the five golden words, as if he could see the light refracted by the ice crystals when Qing Li dissipated:
"wait?"

"Wait until the Blood Curse devours my humanity, wait until the 'Primordial Calamity' severs my life force?"

He suddenly closed his eyes, and lightning arcs surged from his fingertips.

Purple lightning coiled around the jade slip like a snake, attempting to tear open the invisible shackles.

"boom."

The jade slip burst forth with dazzling lightning, and three illusory bronze lightning locks appeared, their bell-like resonance piercing straight to the spiritual platform.

Chu Ning groaned, blood seeping from his seven orifices, the skin and flesh of his palms charred and curled up.

He stared at the jade slip and sneered:

"What a fine Earth-rank cultivation technique... They won't even let you in the door."

The lightning surged into the jade slip like a tidal wave, but it was like a clay ox entering the sea.

The three lightning locks became even clearer, and dense incantations appeared on the chains, each stroke seeming to mock his overestimation of his abilities.

Chu Ning stopped, and the jade slip fell to his knees with a dull thud.

He stared at his trembling fingertips, where the burn marks from the lightning's backlash remained:
"Sixth rank...sixth rank..."

Each word felt like ice shards squeezed out from between teeth.

Suddenly, a blue light flowed in his palm.

A bronze ancient token slowly emerged, its surface pattern resembling a reversed galaxy or the beginning of chaos.

This was the Primordial Divine Decree that had accompanied him through his transmigration. At this moment, it was gleaming with a faint, cold light, like an eye peering into destiny.

The "junk" he bought from the antique market in his past life has become his greatest asset in this life.

This technique allows one to advance their cultivation methods and break through cultivation realms, but one must bear the consequences of doing so.

When he last received the "Thunderclap Saber Technique" in advance, he spent the whole night in a thunderstorm, his bones and muscles breaking and regenerating inch by inch.

With the divine decree in his hand, he felt as if he had returned to that desperate situation:
At the edge of a hundred-foot cliff, covered in blood, he was able to forcefully draw upon the "Split Shadow Technique" under the blessing of the divine decree, and with a single strike, he killed several rank-one martial artists.

"One more time..." His consciousness sank into his sea of ​​consciousness.

The divine command suddenly shone with a bright blue light.

Crimson seal script appeared in the void, each character as sharp as a knife:

[Warning: If you attempt to pre-pay before completing the Primordial Tribulation, you will trigger the Nine Nether Heart Devouring Technique.]

Chu Ning's pupils contracted sharply, and his mind jolted.

The cost of advance payments grows heavier with each step, as if the path beneath one's feet collapses with every step taken.

If this trend continues, even if he manages to make it to the end, he may have already been hollowed out and his soul burned out, and even the definition of "living" will become blurred.

He suddenly chuckled softly, the laughter tinged with the stench of blood:

"What a perfect balance of the heavens... It gave me the chance to defy fate, yet every path is fraught with thorns."

The divine command trembled in his palm, as if resonating, or perhaps warning.

He forced out a drop of his essence blood and smeared it on the surface of the divine decree, hissing:

"Use my lifespan as collateral, and a blood curse as interest, as long as—"

The divine decree suddenly emitted a blue light.

Four bloody characters exploded in the void:
【Insufficient permissions. 】

He lay back, staring at the spiderwebs on the beam and chuckled: "Qingli, don't say I'm gambling with my life... In this world, those who don't gamble with their lives don't even have the right to sit at the gambling table."

The spider silk shimmered silver in the moonlight, much like the last wisp of frost before she vanished.

The night wind lifted the window curtains, carrying the unique, biting chill of the far north.

A snowflake appeared out of nowhere, landing on his bleeding fingertip, instantly turning into an ice crystal—Qing Li's frost was a warning.

He clenched his fist sharply, ice crystals piercing his palm, the pain bringing him to his senses:
"I will continue cultivating."

Thunder patterns exploded from his dantian.

The Hunyuan Body Refining Method was operating wildly, and his internal organs gleamed with a metallic sheen.

The spine roared like a dragon's cry, and the lightning transformed into thousands of fine needles, piercing every inch of flesh.

This is about forging the physical body into a weapon, using pain as a hammer and life and death as fire.

The purple-scaled thunder dragon rose from the dantian, its claws tearing open the dantian, and its tail sweeping across the Ren and Du meridians.

Wherever it passed, the meridians were as if they were being forged by thunder and fire, and the charred and carbonized flesh and blood were reborn under the power of primordial chaos, becoming as white as jade.

His whole being was like a piece of broken and pieced-back porcelain, with lightning flashing through the cracks.

Deep within his dantian, a sea of ​​thunder surged, the ultimate realm of the Thunderclap Blade Technique: Thunder Prison.

At this moment, the rusty knife at his waist could no longer withstand the intense lightning energy and turned into dust inch by inch.

He exhaled a breath of stale air, which crackled with electrical arcs.

The figure reflected in the mirror was in a sorry state, but those eyes, with purple lightning dancing in the left pupil and a blood curse faintly appearing in the right, exuded an eerie pressure.

The night was not yet over, and the wind whispered like a vow.

He closed his eyes again, and the lightning around him gradually faded away, returning to the depths of his consciousness.

The lightning mark between his brows shone even brighter, as if silently awaiting the next breakthrough.

……

At dawn, the sky was as light as gauze, and a bluish-gray mist enveloped the eaves of the Wuhou Mansion's rear garden. Bamboo leaves were covered with frost like swords, and dewdrops rolled down the veins of the leaves, making a soft pattering sound on the stone slabs.

A ray of morning light slanted through the window, spreading across the bed like gold leaf. The weariness between the boy's brows was bathed in a soft light, but it could not hide the bloodshot veins in his eyes, the traces left by practicing thunder magic all night.

Chu Ning's eyelashes trembled slightly, and the moment she opened her eyes, the lightning arcs in her pupils still flickered and had not yet died down.

He subconsciously raised his hand to press on his throbbing temple, but his fingertips suddenly froze. The brocade quilt beside him sank slightly, and a strand of silver hair flowed like moonlight, quietly wrapping around his wrist.

There was another person on the tatami.

The girl lay on her side like an ice sculpture, her white clothes and silver hair intertwined, like a night-blooming cereus suddenly blooming on a snowfield.

Her chest remained still, her breathing almost imperceptible, only her eyelashes, adorned with frost crystals, trembled gently in the light, making her appear as if she were alive.

Her plain clothes were as thin as cicada wings, faintly revealing the icy blue veins flowing beneath her skin; her silver hair cascaded down like a waterfall, the ends of which gradually became transparent, as if about to melt into the morning light.

She smiled, but the smile was frozen, like an arc carved into ice—beautiful, yes, but devoid of any vitality.

Chu Ning's fingertips dug fiercely into her palm.

When the smell of blood spread, he was certain that this was not an illusion caused by the blood curse. The golden mark between the eyebrows of the person in front of him was exactly in the same location as in his memory.

He held his breath, not daring to even tremble his eyelashes.

I was afraid of startling her, afraid that this body would shatter at the slightest touch, just like in my countless dreams before.

Frost crystals fell softly from her eyelashes, shattering into pale blue starlight on the brocade quilt.

That face was still the one etched into his very bones, only now it had lost its life force, as if someone had molded the moonlight into a human form and stolen a wisp of wind and snow from the far north as its soul.

He reached out, his fingertips hovering an inch from her cheek, trembling like autumn leaves in the wind.

This inch is a chasm between life and death, a precipice between delusion and truth.

Suddenly, ice patterns appeared on the side of her neck, growing like vines.

The surrounding spiritual energy surged wildly towards that body, and the morning dew on the window frame flew up and turned into thousands of silver threads that disappeared into her brow—she was absorbing the spiritual energy of heaven and earth.

Chu Ning suddenly turned his head.

The medicine pouch lay limp in the corner, its opening wide open, the pills inside reduced to dust. It was the Northern Mang Cold Marrow Ice Crystal Pill that Xie Mingli had given her, now turning into icy mist, wisps of which flowed into the girl's transparent fingertips.

He grabbed a handful of ash, and the chilling aura pierced his nostrils.

It turned out that the lightning energy that had been released during her cultivation last night had inadvertently created a resonance between the pendant and the elixir, causing Qingli's spirit to instinctively seize the life force.

The icy marrow of the Ice Crystal Pill, the container of the Frost Thunder Bloodline, and the remnant soul sealed in the pendant—the three fit together like gears, seamlessly interlocking.

Could it be that Heaven ultimately left a way out?
Can a crack appear in a seemingly hopeless situation, allowing a spark of hope to pierce through?
His eyes suddenly lit up, and his heart surged with emotion. Ever since Qingli disappeared, he had imagined countless times the possibility of her returning, and now the scene before him almost gave him a glimmer of hope.

The words "Qing Li..." were uttered as if icy blades were slicing through the throat.

The frost on the girl's eyelashes suddenly cracked.

A glimmer of light flashed across the depths of his eyes, like a pebble thrown into a stagnant pool, creating ripples in an instant.
Her fingertips moved.

He leaned close to her ear, his voice hoarse like pebbles grinding together:

"Qingli, it's me."

As if a spell had been cast at the gates of the underworld, the girl's eyelids snapped open.

His pupils were like an icy lake, where he once saw his shattered reflection.

Now the lake is frozen, without a ripple, only a desolate blue expanse remains.

He stood frozen in place.

Those eyes were looking at him, yet they seemed to pierce through him and gaze into the void, like a jade statue in a temple, compassionate yet indifferent.

My fingertips brushed her cheek, the touch like stroking ancient ice.

"Qingli..." he forced out a breath, "I'm Chu Ning, your..."

Those two words stuck between my teeth.

She turned her head, her silver hair brushing against the back of his hand, leaving a bloody mark.

(End of this chapter)