Chapter 63
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Chapter 63: Title
The once-clear sky abruptly coalesced into ominous thunderclouds. The white snake gazed upward through slitted eyes filled with bewilderment.
This sluggish Lightning Tribulation resembled the Transformation Lightning Tribulation from its inherited memories—but that couldn’t be right. Its cultivation shouldn’t have reached tier three… Wait. Tier three? When had that happened?
As the serpent assessed its cultivation level, its imagined human form would’ve paled dramatically. Preposterous! Though the spatial barriers of Mountain and Sea Realm had weakened with cracks, allowing ordinary Demonic Beasts to tumble through into the human realm, the white snake had crossed through deliberate effort.
It had sacrificed cultivation and endured injuries to enter this realm, only to inexplicably break through to tier three while convalescing in the pool. Back in Mountain and Sea Realm, it had teetered on tier three’s threshold but resisted advancement—transforming there would’ve barred passage to the human realm for centuries.
Now, freshly ascended with unrecovered strength, facing Transformation Lightning Tribulation… Was the heavenly path conspiring against it?
Nine bolts comprised the tribulation, each devastating to demonkind. The white snake’s initial eighty percent confidence dwindled below fifty. With survival odds now even, it arched its neck toward the gathering storm. As the first lightning descended, faint golden luminescence shimmered across its scales, deflecting the strike.
When thunder roars and lightning dances, internet users jest about tribulations—until the deadly reality strikes. Even spectators meters ashore felt the overwhelming pressure, let alone the maelstrom’s epicenter.
Pristine white heavenly lightning hammered down. The fourth bolt shattered its protective dome. Before recovery came the fifth strike. Though spirit cultivators boast formidable scales impervious to steel, even mighty defenses crumble before celestial fury.
The fifth impact dulled its armor-like scales, spiderweb cracks appearing. Spirit snakes tread the path toward dragonhood—hence the white snake’s superior scales that withstood five strikes. But two more would break it; the eighth and ninth meant certain doom.
Bolts six and seven erupted across its body, scales fracturing as lightning seared through flesh. Bloodied fragments rained on the water’s surface before sinking.
The serpent expelled a luminous pearl, now bobbing above its head. Channeling demon power, it braced for the eighth assault. Lightning cracked the core—agony ripped through the white snake as it vomited blood, the damaged pearl barely maintaining a faint shield.
Before the final strike, an emerald blur vaulted from the lake—the green fish from earlier.
"A Horizontal Bone-less runt seeking death? Begone!" The snake’s hisses proved futile as the fish intercepted the ninth bolt. Acrid smoke mingled with spray as charred scales scattered.
With dissipating clouds, the white snake reclaimed its core and plunged beneath the waves. Though tribulations couldn’t be substituted, their burden could be shared—this mute creature had absorbed the lethal force. Since when did spirit cultivators show mercy? Were human realm denizens inherently peculiar?
Tracking the sinking fish through crimson-tinged water, the weakened serpent knew immediate healing was vital. Blood oozed from cracks in its shedding skin, forehead itching where dragon horns would emerge. Post-transformation molting and horn-growth demanded secluded closed-door cultivation, safe from human cultivators.
West Lake’s secluded depths offered refuge. Enveloping the fish in an aqueous sphere, the snake reluctantly slit its tail—precious blood droplets swirled into the water. Its duty ended here; survival now rested with the fish.
The spirit cultivators differ from human cultivators in their lack of proficiency with formations and talismans. For now, the white serpent could only conceal itself beneath the water’s surface to shed its aged skin.
The molting process gave way to scale regeneration, requiring the purification of lingering heavenly lightning energy from its wounds. Thus began the white serpent’s deep slumber.
*
"Critical situation at West Lake. Dispatch nearest available agents immediately." Tang Tong’s temple throbbed visibly as she received Liang An’s report.
The photograph in her hand retained enough clarity for identification.
"Lin Ke, make it quick," she answered without diverting attention from the image.
"West Lake incident parallels the Yellow River case. The dragon race confirms a tier three spirit cultivator undergoing Transformation Lightning Tribulation."
"That green carp from recent news reports – the supposed ‘helpful fish’ – may have become a spirit. Exercise extreme caution during containment."
"Understood." The line went dead with her crisp acknowledgement.
A tier three entity stood second only to those draconic anomalies in spiritual hierarchy. Though scattered spirit cultivators had been documented nationwide, none exhibited human transformation capabilities until this West Lake disturbance.
Her fingernails drummed an irregular rhythm on the desk. Should she personally oversee this operation, or trust Qiantang City’s branch personnel?
"Migraine incoming," she muttered, massaging her temples.
*
In a Qiantang City residential quarter, a knee-high stray dog of tawny hue gazed skyward with disconcertingly intelligent eyes. Half-consumed dog food lay forgotten beside the creature, its attention fixed on spiritual disturbances 1.2 kilometers west.
The yellow canine flattened itself against a flowerbed, tail tucked and ears drooping in submission. How had a tier three sovereign emerged from the Mountain and Sea Realm to endure tribulation here? Its former confidence in Tier One Pinnacle cultivation evaporated like morning dew.
It mechanically chewed the bland kibble. Human provisions lacked the Spiritual Energy of Demonic Beast flesh, yet possessed novel flavors worth appreciating.
*
Chu Fei leaned against a West Lake District lamppost, crimson-white athletic wear accentuating his lean frame. The wireless earbuds completed his urban warrior aesthetic.
Since Zhu Xin’s transfer to Eastern Sea City, he’d voluntarily assumed registration duties for Qiantang City’s extraordinary individuals. Officially titled Chief of Division 5 and acting Deputy Director, he nevertheless patrolled streets personally – a fact that amused his colleagues.
The Spiritual Network disclosed only department chiefs’ and directors’ profiles for security reasons. Chu Fei’s current mission stemmed from Sky Net’s big data analysis – a system two decades in development now pinpointed anomalies with frightening efficiency.
He’d barely reached West Lake when the emergency call came. By arrival, only unremarkable waters greeted him. Leaving the scene to subordinates, he turned to morning’s peculiar incident: reports of a golden-furred stray matching extraordinary parameters.
*
KFC fried chicken crackled in its paper container as Chu Fei settled on a park bench. His peripheral vision tracked the target – a yellow canine whose lustrous coat outshone pedigree breeds, eyes gleaming with unnatural acuity.
The incident replay in his mind: unleashed Rottweiler charging a toddler, stopped mid-lunge by this stray’s physics-defying kick. Security footage showed the 1.6-meter beast fleeing from this knee-high defender.
Casually biting into a drumstick, Chu Fei monitored the creature’s reactions. Standard protocol demanded caution with potential spirit cultivators, especially non-verbal subjects. The Special Bureau’s limited funding couldn’t withstand another escaped entity.
Across the flowerbed, the yellow nose twitched. Fried poultry aromas overpowered kibble’s dull scent. In different circumstances, this proud descendant of Mountain and Sea Realm would never debase itself thus – but survival in this strange new world required adaptation.
