"Rumble—!"
The space kept roaring, as if it could no longer contain that furious thunderball.
"Crack! Crack!"
The massive body of the Thunder Prison Vine pressed itself low, tightly clinging to the cliff face and scraping against the rocks, making crisp cracking sounds. Yet before that immense thunderball, everything about it seemed insignificant.
"Whoosh!"
The Thunder Prison Vine suddenly leaped into the air. The countless nearly invisible filaments on its top lashed out like thrown fishing lines, swiftly attaching themselves to the thunderball.
What was surprising was that the rampaging lightning could not shake free of those tiny threads. Instead, they began to stretch and wrap around it, pulling bit by bit—slowing the thunderball's descent.
Even from such a distance, Jiang Jue could clearly feel it—the vine emanated an emotion almost human: greed.
The next instant, those transparent filaments dragged the enormous thunderball directly toward the vine's main body.
"Zzzrrt!"
The vine's sharp tip tore open a gaping wound in the thunderball, from which a terrifying stream of dark-violet lightning fluid gushed out.
The Thunder Prison Vine, like a shark catching the scent of blood, straightened up and plunged headlong into the raging ball of thunder. Its body pulsed with streams of violet-gold light.
A strange suction arose—the thunder slurry vanished into nothing, absorbed straight into the vine's body.
"Little friend Jiang, watch carefully," Jinpeng said quietly, eyes narrowing slightly as he pointed. "This is the very reason that this Thunder Prison Vine can live so long without exploding to death."
Hearing this, Jiang Jue's pupils flashed with a faint golden light.
At once, threads of peculiar colors appeared within his eyes.
"Black? Does that mean it's about to die?"
After awakening the Eye of Fate, Jiang Jue could briefly glimpse the threads of fate belonging to humans or soul beasts. Now he saw above that ninety-thousand-year-old vine a thick black thread—an omen of impending death. A huge "Danger" character hung metaphorically over its head.
But then, the vine's massive body trembled slightly. Around it, the younger vines all straightened upright in unison, frozen stiff.
"Did it… transfer it?" Jiang Jue muttered under his breath.
He could see it with his own eyes: the thick black thread above the ancient vine turned red, while the red threads above the surrounding lesser vines gradually darkened to black.
"Sacrifice others to save oneself…" he thought in astonishment.
Meanwhile, the thunderball continued shrinking as the vine absorbed it. The violent, chaotic aura weakened more and more until finally, the massive sphere of thunder was drained dry.
It let out a last unwilling wail—and vanished into nothing.
The Thunder Prison Vine's body shone with even richer violet-gold light, and Jiang Jue noticed a golden pattern forming across its surface, radiating mysterious energy.
The thunderclouds above seemed used to the spectacle; once the thunderball disappeared, the clouds scattered entirely, taking the remaining lightning with them—leaving not even a trace behind.
As if they had been robbed too many times and had learned their lesson.
"Let's go," Jinpeng said casually. "I'll take you to meet an old friend."
With a practiced motion, he lifted Jiang Jue with his soul power and slowly drifted toward the cliff face.
"Human, why are you here again?"
As soon as Jiang Jue approached the cliff, an impatient voice rang directly in his mind.
"Nonsense. You still owe my Body Sect a debt—why shouldn't I come?" Jinpeng snorted coldly, showing no courtesy to the voice's owner.
"It's been so many years. Can't you fix that rotten temper of yours? Keep this up and one day the lightning will fry you dead," the voice grumbled.
Jinpeng ignored the jab, landing with Jiang Jue atop the cliff. Despite being called a cliff, the narrow plateau stretched nearly a hundred square meters.
The surface was uneven—bare rock and a cluster of Thunder Prison Vines, nothing else.
The younger vines still stood stiffly upright, completely motionless.
"Hmph. Your ancestor's ancestor said the same thing, and where is he now? Gone, right? Getting rid of you won't be any harder. Besides…"
The voice came again, dripping with disdain.
"Not in the mood to argue with you."
Jinpeng's mouth twitched. Catching Jiang Jue's curious glance, he waved dismissively, cutting off the vine's words.
"Ahem. I didn't come here to bicker this time."
He turned to Jiang Jue. "This—this is the greatest treasure of our Body Sect's sacred ground."
Jinpeng's gaze swept over the ninety-thousand-year-old Thunder Prison Vine as he transmitted the words with soul power.
Jiang Jue nodded slightly. He could tell—the earlier voice had come from that violet-gold vine.
Soul beasts that survive one hundred thousand years of tribulation can speak human language. For some top-bloodline beasts, even at ten thousand years, their intelligence already rivals humans.
So for a ninety-thousand-year vine to talk was no surprise.
"What are you mumbling about over there? You're not secretly cursing me, are you?"
The massive vine leaned forward, tilting its "head" toward them inquisitively.
"Don't interrupt me, or I'll show you what 'fists and feet' really mean," Jinpeng threatened, clenching his hands into fists as if remembering old grudges.
"Heh. You've grown up… though you're not quite the same as before," the vine sighed, then suddenly darted back—"whoosh"—into the ground.
It knew if it stayed, Jinpeng might actually start throwing punches. Back in the day, it used to bully him quite a bit; but now, just a century later, Jinpeng could beat it black and blue—and it couldn't even run.
Jinpeng shot it a glare and ignored it.
"Little friend Jiang," he said, turning serious, "our Body Sect uses the body itself as the martial soul. To grow stronger, one must continually awaken and stimulate the potential within their own flesh."
"And thunder," he said, voice deep and resonant, "is one of the best ways to do so."
Jiang Jue's eyes flickered—his heart rippled slightly.
"So I'm finally about to touch the Body Sect's core secret… all my acting wasn't in vain."
Jinpeng paused, then pulled a small gilded booklet from his robes.
"Your martial soul is your body itself, so this method suits you even better. Combined with our sect's secret art, it will make the results far more remarkable."
"Look through this first. If there's anything you don't understand, come ask me."
He handed the gilded booklet to Jiang Jue.
"Thank you, Elder Jin."
A faint gleam flashed in Jiang Jue's eyes as he accepted it.
"We're all one family—no need for thanks," Jinpeng said with a sigh. "After all, the Body Sect's future will rest on you young ones. We old men… our time is nearly past."
Jiang Jue's heart tightened slightly. "Why does it feel like Elder Jin's been testing me all along?" he thought silently, just as he was about to speak—
A familiar, mocking voice cut in:
"Little Jin, always pestering me… why don't you go pay respects to your ancestors instead?"
"I really need to teach you a lesson!"
Veins bulged on Jinpeng's forehead as he turned sharply toward the Thunder Prison Vine, striding forward furiously.
(End of Chapter)