Overdraw the future and become a peerless martial god

Chapter 96 The Blood Refining Hall Appears

"Snapped."

With a light touch, the sealing wax shattered into fragments of light, scattering like lightning and stardust.

The parchment letter slowly unfolded, and on the slightly yellowed pages, thunder patterns appeared faintly, each stroke seemingly containing the power of thunder.

Pale golden lightning flowed along the ink marks, and the cipher text seemed to come alive, swimming and roaring in the air, as if a thunder dragon was faintly humming.

Chu Ning stared intently at the letter, feeling that it was more like a vow, engraved under the heavenly thunder.

Song Cang paused, his fingertips hovering over one of the lines of text.

There was a faint flash of lightning.

His pupils suddenly contracted, his chest heaved violently, and the veins on the back of his hands taut slightly.

"turn out to be……"

He murmured, his voice trembling slightly, "You even passed this on to him..."

In that instant, the old man's brows furrowed deeply, and his eyes churned with emotions, as if he were trying his best to suppress his long-held obsession and anger.

After a long while, Song Cang slowly closed his eyes and exhaled a long breath.

He said softly:

"The Thunder Blade Sect... is finally no longer the sect that severs meridians."

The words were spoken in a very low voice, yet they were heavier than thunder.

The next moment, Song Cang put away the letter, rolled up his sleeves, and walked unhurriedly towards the corner of the secret room.

He reached out his palm and pressed it against a brick with a dark, thunder-patterned design in the corner of the wall.

"Click."

The floor tiles creaked slightly, cracks spread, and an ancient array pattern emerged, surging like thunder in a pool.

A hidden compartment slowly rose up, sealed away for many years.

As the lightning patterns swirled, an old, heavy wooden box slowly emerged into the world.

Song Cang gently stroked the box lid with his palm, as if he were talking to an old friend. His fingertips trembled slightly, yet he restrained himself to the utmost.

The box lid was opened, and a scroll of dark gold parchment lay there quietly.

Three vigorous and archaic Lei characters are engraved on it:
"The Thunderous Secret"

"boom!"

Chu Ning's pupils contracted slightly, his chest felt as if it had been struck by a muffled thunderclap, and his blood began to boil slightly.

Song Cang turned around, his gaze deep, and slowly nodded:
"What you repaired was just a fragment."

"The real 'thunderclap' is right here."

Chu Ning's heart jolted violently, and he involuntarily took a step forward, as if summoned by some divine mandate.

He extended his right hand, his palm trembling slightly, and slowly touched the ancient parchment scroll.

The moment the fingertips touched.

"Click——"

It was as if some thunder that had been dormant for thousands of years had been awakened.

The next instant, an invisible bolt of lightning burst forth from the depths of the book, like a thousand-foot-tall pillar of lightning shooting straight into the sky and piercing into Chu Ning's sea of ​​consciousness.

"--boom."

Chu Ning felt a sharp pain in his mind, and his consciousness was shaking violently.

Deep within the sea of ​​consciousness, the once tranquil and mirror-like spiritual realm was instantly engulfed in raging torrents.

Thunder roared and pillars of lightning rose, a thunder prison appeared in the deepest part of the sea of ​​consciousness. Amidst the swirling storm and flashing lightning, a humanoid phantom suddenly opened its eyes.

That's Thunder Lord.

He had resided in the sea of ​​consciousness ever since Chu Ning first stepped into the Thunder Path, never uttering a word, merely sleeping motionless, like a god in hibernation, or a lingering shadow of the Great Dao.

At that moment, those closed, thunderous eyes finally slowly opened.

"Boom."

Two beams of lightning, like the rising sun, illuminated every inch of darkness in his sea of ​​consciousness.

As his gaze swept across, the spiritual energy in his entire sea of ​​consciousness seemed to explode, with layers of thunderclouds overlapping and rolling, and lightning pillars rising and falling like mountains, reshaping the world.

"boom--"

Lightning exploded around Chu Ning, and his golden eyes widened in shock.

"cough--"

He suddenly took half a step back, his eyes filled with wild joy.

“This is… the complete Thunder Soul,” he murmured.

Looking at the blood on his lips, yet the lightning continued to strike, Song Cang finally showed a hint of relief.

"As expected, he was the one he chose."

He stood with his hands behind his back, slowly walked back to the table, casually picked up a tea leaf from the broken cup on the table, and crushed it.

"Chun Ning."

Do you know why 'Yang Lei' is the supreme among thunder?

Chu Ning was taken aback, then frowned and fell into deep thought.

"...Thunder, the most yang and the most powerful, can ward off evil and suppress demons, and is impervious to yin and evil." He said slowly.

Song Cang shook his head slightly, his voice low and deep like a night drum.

"Everyone knows that Yang thunder can suppress evil, break Yin, and drive away ghosts."

"But what is unknown is that the true 'Yang Thunder' is not revered for its fierceness and intensity, but for its 'speed'."

Chu Ning was taken aback: "Quickly?"

"good."

Song Cang gazed out at the sky, his eyes falling into the gray clouds, and remained silent.

“True Yang Thunder is the first thought of Heaven and Earth. At dawn, lightning precedes light, and it is the ‘first sound’ in the rift of chaos. That is the initial movement of Qian Yang, the extreme of thought, and the word ‘speed’.”

"When heaven and earth move, thunder is born; when the human heart moves, thunder is also born."

Why can't you, Lei Yi, suppress your anger?

Chu Ning was slightly taken aback.

Song Cang stared at him, his voice slow and deliberate, like a knife brushing against his heartstrings:
"Because you harbored murderous intent, and murderous intent is impulsive; impulsiveness leads to chaos, and chaos leads to impurity." "Thunder must be fast, but not hasty. It must be unstoppable, but it must not go astray."

His fingertips rested on the scabbard, he flicked it lightly, and whispered a spell:

"To control thunder, one must first control one's mind."

"Thunder means speed. A single thought can kill."

A thunderous roar echoed in Chu Ning's mind, and suddenly he understood.

—It turns out that the "essence" of Yang Lei is not breaking, but "preemption"; not fierceness, but "decisiveness of thought"; Yang is not in outward appearance, but in the source of the heart.

Seeing him deep in thought, Song Cang didn't disturb him any further.

He paced back and forth, hands behind his back, and said in a low voice:

"The true successor of the Thunder Blade Sect is not only a madman who has slain all his enemies, but also a 'Seeker of the Way' who can cleave the 'Thunder Crack of Destiny'."

As he spoke, his gaze never fell on Chu Ning, yet every word he uttered was resounding, like an iron hammer striking the heart.

"From this day forward, you shall diligently cultivate the Thunderclap Blade Technique and enter the true lineage of my Thunder Blade Sect."

As soon as he finished speaking, the room fell silent for a moment, except for the tea on the table, which was still warm and gently steaming up wisps of white mist.

Chu Ning lowered his head, the lightning flashing in his eyes and then disappearing. He suppressed the surging excitement in his chest, his voice slightly hoarse:

"Senior, the Benlei Martial Arts School has been attacked, and Master Lei Wanjun has fled with my sister. However, I have searched everywhere for many days without success. Do you have any way to find them?"

Upon hearing this, Song Cang's brows furrowed.

"Was your elder sister... born in an unlucky hour and month?"

Chu Ning hesitated for a moment, then nodded: "Exactly."

Song Cang exhaled softly, his eyes as cold as frost falling on the northern plains.

"The Blood Refining Hall... will naturally not let her go."

Chu Ning's expression suddenly changed: "You knew it was them all along?"

Song Cang looked at him, his eyes becoming more solemn than ever before.

"Because she has a 'catalyst' in her body."

Chu Ning's heart sank suddenly.

"The trigger? What trigger?"

Song Cang slowly walked back to the desk, pulled out a dark brown ancient book from the shelf, and opened a page.

On the page, a line of ancient text written in blood-red ink quietly appeared: "The one who possesses the Spirit Blood Catalyst can break through the Three Limits and transcend the Five Tribulations. It is the most calamity in the world and the most coveted by all evil forces."

“Spiritual Blood Primer,” Song Cang said slowly, “is an extremely rare and unique physique, born with a wisp of ‘Primordial Spiritual Blood.’ This kind of bloodline can stimulate vitality, transform destiny, and even reverse death and bring the dead back to life at critical moments.”

“Your elder sister, Chu Yun… is probably a natural spiritual blood catalyst.”

Chu Ning felt his blood surging throughout his body, and his fingertips clenched tightly:
"So... the reason why my elder sister and Master Lei Wanjun were being hunted down wasn't just because of the Lei Dao Sect?"

"They are the catalyst."

Song Cang nodded emphatically: "They live by blood, believing that 'the strong live, the weak die by blood.' And the catalyst is the 'key' to their survival."

"The twelve evil spirits can be reincarnated once each they obtain a catalyst."

"Your older sister must be their prey."

Song Cang's tone was frosty, each word chilling.

Chu Ning slowly sat down, his chest heaving violently. He thought he had experienced many ups and downs in his life, but he never expected that his sister would be burdened with such a fateful calamity.

“Spiritual Blood Catalyst…” he murmured, his voice slightly hoarse, his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

“Senior,” Chu Ning raised his eyes, his gaze flickering with lightning, much like the divine thunder that would split the sky before a storm, “is there any way to find her whereabouts?”

Song Cang pondered for a moment, then slowly tapped the tattered bamboo slips on the table with his fingertips, producing a dull and suppressed echo.

“If she truly has a spiritual blood catalyst within her,” he said in a low voice, as if his voice were rolling out from the abyss, “then it has already been marked by the Blood Refining Hall with evil magic. Ordinary concealment is useless; even from a thousand miles away, they can still sense the presence of the catalyst.”

Chu Ning was shocked, and the lightning in his eyes almost exploded.

"A cursed spell... Does that mean the later I act, the more dangerous it will be for my sister?"

Song Cang nodded, his expression extremely solemn: "That's right. They search for spirit blood and will not give their targets any chance to breathe. If you fall into their hands, at best you will become a blood pool puppet, and at worst you will be stripped of your spirit blood and your soul will be scattered."

Chu Ning gripped the hem of her clothes tightly at her knees, her fingertips piercing her palms, blood dripping from between her fingers, but she was completely unaware.

After a long pause, he took a deep breath, his voice sharp and cold, like a blade breaking through its sheath.

"Does the senior know where the Blood Refining Hall's lair is?"

After he finished speaking, the room fell into a deathly silence.

Song Cang looked at him quietly, his gaze as deep as the ocean.

“Chu Ning,” he said slowly, “you must understand that the Blood Refining Hall is not an ordinary evil sect. They are truly monsters lurking in the shadows of this world.”

Song Cang's gaze was cold and deep, his voice seemingly coming from the extreme cold that had frozen the land for thousands of miles:

“Even a powerful organization like the ‘First-Class Pavilion’ has attempted to wipe out the Blood Refining Hall three times by exhausting its elite forces.”

"Yet all their efforts ended in failure."

With that, he turned and walked to a corner of the secret room, flicking his sleeve to activate a subtle mechanism.

"Click——"

With the sound of the stone slabs shifting, a crack appeared in a wall gleaming with a cold light, and a jade slip containing an ancient aura slowly emerged from it.

Song Cang carefully took out the jade slip and opened it.

Under the dim light, a heart-wrenching scroll quietly unfolds, with patterns of blood and ink intertwined, seemingly flowing faintly in the light and shadow.

Twelve indistinct, otherworldly symbols are engraved on it, appearing and disappearing, each exuding a suffocating aura of evil:
A colossal maw that devours heaven and earth; a towering altar where rivers of blood flow; a nine-headed, crimson-eyed serpent; a black-feathered demonic raven whose wings blot out the sky and whose cries are soul-crushing…

Each one is like a fragment from an ancient nightmare, each one seems to contain some kind of silent curse.

Chu Ning's heart tightened suddenly, a chill ran down his spine, his pupils contracted, and his breath caught in his throat.

He stared at the twelve totems, his fingertips trembling slightly.

Song Cang lowered his eyes, his gaze as cold as a knife:
"These are the Twelve Evil Spirits."

"They are the true rulers of the Blood Refining Hall."

Song Cang's voice was low and somber, like the distant tolling of a cemetery bell:
“Every evil spirit is nurtured against the heavens by using the technique of ‘blood refinement’.”

"They use slaughter as sacrifice and blood refining as a path, treating countless lives as foundation stones, all in order to obtain greater power."

(End of this chapter)