As the day passed, Tao began to stir. Slowly, his senses returned, and he became aware of his surroundings once more. His body, still recovering from the catastrophic punishment, throbbed with lingering pain. Tiny flashes of the Heavenly Thunder continued to lash his surface, like small sparks of fire dancing unpredictably across his skin. In those moments, his muscles stiffened, his limbs briefly paralyzed under the residual energy, yet his mind remained alert and sharp.
Despite the agony, Tao smiled faintly. Every strike, every surge of pain, seemed to carry a lesson within it—a taste of power he had never experienced before. Deep within, he knew that he had gained something extraordinary. The black essence, once a chaotic and dangerous force, was now tempered. His mortal blood and the five elemental energies had been refined, strengthened, and harmonized in ways he was only beginning to comprehend.
Yet Tao's smile was not one of ease or comfort. Beneath it lay the knowledge of the peril he had faced—the life-and-death struggle against forces far beyond mortal reckoning. The risk had been colossal; a single misstep could have ended his life. Each pain that coursed through him now was a reminder of that delicate balance, the razor-thin line he had walked between survival and destruction.
He absorbed it all—the lingering thunders, the aching muscles, the burning of his flesh—and understood something vital. This was not merely suffering, but transformation. Every pulse of agony carried strength, every spark of lightning carried insight, and every blackened scar within him carried potential. Tao's body was still fragile, still healing, yet his spirit had been sharpened, tempered by the ordeal.
In the quiet of Luo Peak, surrounded by the gentle watch of his parents like uncle and aunty and the protective wards, Tao remained conscious of the pain, aware of the energy still coursing through him. And yet, through it all, a quiet determination settled within him. He had survived a fight with Heaven itself—and he had gained.
As Tao's senses gradually returned, his parents like uncle and aunty approached him cautiously. When they touched his body, they felt only the faint crackle of residual thunder striking across his surface, yet it did not harm him. The energy danced like fire along his skin, wild and intense, yet carefully contained, unable to penetrate his core.
Seeing this, they exchanged a tense glance. For a moment, relief did not come—they held their breath, worried that a single misstep might reignite the Heavenly punishment. But as the energy continued to shimmer harmlessly, they finally exhaled, a wave of relief washing over them. Tao was safe. The tremendous power that had once threatened to overwhelm him was now harmonized within, and though he still felt the lingering spark of thunder, it no longer posed a threat.
Tao, despite the residual pain and quivering energy, lay still, his faint smile revealing that he had gained something far greater than mere survival. His parents, watching over him with eyes full of awe and cautious pride, understood that their son had emerged from this ordeal stronger than any mortal could imagine.
As time passed, Tao began to examine his body. Shock rippled through him at what he discovered. The structure of his blood and internal systems was unlike anything he had anticipated. He had imagined that, with the help of the Heavenly Thunders and his willpower, he could fully refine the black blood into mortal blood. Yet now, he realized that what he saw on the surface was only part of the truth.
Outwardly, his body appeared as that of a fifteen-year-old boy, seemingly healthy and whole. But internally, the reality was far different. His body felt ancient, as if a millennium had passed within it. Like old wood corroded from within, his internal organs, veins, and energy channels bore the scars of black energy. Nearly fifty percent of his internal system had been corroded, weakened, and tainted by the lingering black essence.
The remaining fifty percent, however, was a different story. This portion had been partially restored and stabilized by the three main energies—red, white, and golden—which now wove through his body like pillars of strength. These energies were further supported by the subtler green and blue elemental essences, forming a complex internal network that maintained balance, restrained the corrupted areas, and allowed his body to function.
Tao's mind raced as he felt this dichotomy. On the outside, he appeared youthful and strong, yet inside, his body was a battlefield of time and energy—partly corroded, partly restored, caught between destruction and the miraculous refinement wrought by the Heavenly Thunders. It was a revelation that left him in awe: the true cost of his breakthrough, the hidden scars of his power, and the delicate equilibrium he would now have to maintain.
He realized that this was only the beginning. The surface might appear flawless, but internally, the struggle between the corrupted black blood and the refining energies would continue. It would demand vigilance, unyielding willpower, and mastery far beyond anything he had experienced before.
The method of using Heavenly Thunders to refine his blood had indeed worked—but it was not yet capable of fully resolving the situation. Observing the results of the second Heavenly Thunder, Tao saw the black essence now in greater chaos than ever, still wild and untamed. His mortal blood, meanwhile, had increased in volume and potency—nearly five times greater than it had been before.
Yet, when compared to the overwhelming mass of black blood still roiling within him, this growth was only a cup of water in front of a vast lake. The black essence remained dominant, chaotic, and dangerous. Still, despite the ongoing internal conflict, Tao recognized the undeniable progress. Even a small gain under such extreme circumstances was monumental. The path ahead would be long and perilous, but this breakthrough had marked the first step toward mastering the untamable forces within him.
After carefully circulating and refining his blood, Tao had gathered his mortal blood to seventy percent once more. With this renewed strength, he prepared for the next stage of his plan: triggering the third Heavenly Thunder.
Centering his will, he focused every ounce of energy and determination. The chaotic black essence writhed within him, while the mortal blood pulsed steadily, now infused with the lessons and refinements of the previous trials. This time, Tao did not hesitate. He pushed his power further, increasing the intensity of his internal energy, expanding the scope and strength of the forces he could control.
As the third Heavenly Thunder descended, it struck with unprecedented power. The lightning raged like a torrent, its energy far greater than the previous two strikes, yet Tao's control had also grown. The thunder's divine force smashed against the black essence, forcing it to yield while refining and empowering his mortal blood even more. Unlike before, the strikes no longer merely punished him—they actively reshaped his body and energy, amplifying his strength and resilience.
Tao felt the overwhelming surge of power within him. The mortal blood and elemental energies reacted, intertwining with the heavenly strikes, each lightning bolt now strengthening rather than harming him. The black essence, though still volatile, was steadily subdued, restrained by Tao's will and the amplified energies within.
A deep, confident smile spread across Tao's face. The third Heavenly Thunder had proven that he could challenge the heavens, endure their divine punishment, and even benefit from it. His power had not only survived but grown—amplified beyond anything he had experienced before. The black essence remained a threat, but Tao now knew that with each controlled trial, he could push the limits further, bending even the heavens to refine and strengthen him.
As time passed, Tao's extraordinary process continued. In the beginning, the descent of the Heavenly Thunders occurred once a month, just as it had during his first two trials. But as his strength grew and his connection with the heavens deepened, the rhythm changed. The heavens no longer needed his full invocation—two divine punishments would now descend each month, responding naturally to the energy fluctuations within his body.
What once terrified the entire village had now become a strange, almost predictable cycle. To outsiders, it seemed as if Heaven itself had made Tao its favored target, yet to Tao, it was simply another step in mastering his blood. The villagers, though still awed and fearful, had grown accustomed to the roaring skies and the blinding bolts that struck the Luo Peak regularly. What was once a divine trial now felt, to them, like a recurring storm—a fearsome game between Tao and the heavens.
But they knew better than to treat it lightly. For the heavens, this was judgment; for Tao, it was survival and transcendence. No one else in the world could do what he did—repeatedly provoking the Heavenly Punishment, enduring its wrath, and then turning it into his own instrument of cultivation. It was something only Tao could accomplish, a feat that defied the natural order itself.
As these trials continued, the power of the Heavenly Thunders also grew stronger each time, their intensity rising in tandem with Tao's progress. After each descent, his body would be left battered and nearly broken, requiring long periods of recovery. The elders and Luo Tang's parents tended to him diligently, guiding him through special meditative techniques designed to help his body absorb the remnant divine energy and accelerate his healing.
The entire village contributed to his recovery. Herbalists gathered rare medicinal plants; smiths refined spiritual minerals for recovery arrays; even ordinary villagers prayed and offered their blessings at the base of Luo Peak. Their united efforts formed a quiet network of support that surrounded Tao's cultivation path.
Over time, the effects of his trials became clear. The black essence within his blood, once uncontrollable and corrosive, gradually began to recede—its presence shrinking from fifty percent to forty-five, then to forty… thirty… twenty-five… until it was finally suppressed to just ten percent. Each heavenly strike purified him further, burning away impurities and stabilizing his inner world.
Meanwhile, his mortal blood condensed at a tremendous rate. From a fragile, unstable state, it grew denser, purer, and more refined—eventually comprising twenty-five percent of his total blood essence. The five elemental energies intertwined harmoniously with it, reinforcing his inner structure and strengthening his body's foundation.
The deep internal wounds once carved by the violent black essence also began to heal. Though the recovery was slow, it was steady. Every thunderstrike tempered him, every meditation refined him. His body, once fragile and riddled with scars, was now rebuilding itself into something tougher, sharper, and more powerful—like a weapon forged in divine fire.
Tao's cultivation had become a cycle of destruction and rebirth, pain and transcendence. Each passing month brought new challenges, but with every heavenly trial he endured, his blood, body, and soul grew stronger—slowly shaping him into a being who could stand before Heaven itself without fear.
Deep within Tao's heart region, the balance of his internal powers had begun to shift once more. The five-colored essences that had long supported his body were weakening day by day, especially after every descent of Heavenly Thunder. Though each strike did not directly damage these essences, the aftermath drained them continuously. The repeated assaults of heavenly lightning forced them to work beyond their natural limits, consuming their own strength to repair Tao's body again and again.
Among the five, the red, white, and golden essences bore the greatest burden. Each time Tao fell unconscious from the agony of the thunder tribulation, these three energies would awaken instinctively, flowing through every organ, vein, and cell of his being. They repaired what the lightning had shattered—mending torn muscles, sealing broken meridians, and soothing the seared channels where the black blood had once raged violently.
But the cost of this healing was immense. To restore Tao's damaged body, the three essences continuously sacrificed their own vitality. The more they healed him, the dimmer their light became. Now, they had entered a dangerously unstable state—flickering like fading stars, on the verge of complete exhaustion. If this continued much longer, the three colors that had once been the pillars of his body could vanish entirely, leaving his inner foundation dangerously fragile.
In contrast, the green and blue essences remained vigorous and resilient. Their nature was more fluid and adaptive, constantly replenishing their strength through the gentle nurturing energy infused by Luo Tang's parents. Day after day, the Luo family elders lent their life force to sustain these essences, pouring their own energy into Tao to keep the cycle balanced.
However, the price of this aid was severe. Over time, the toll became visible. Luo Tang's mother and Tao's aunt, once radiant and full of vitality, now showed clear signs of exhaustion. Her once-bright complexion had turned pale, her eyes dimmed with weariness, and faint lines of strain marked her face. Each session of energy transfer left her trembling, her blood essence visibly weaker. Tao's uncle, too, bore the marks of overexertion—his aura was unsteady, his presence dimmed, as though his own vitality was being forcefully drawn out.
The elders noticed, but none of them spoke. They all understood that the process was necessary. Without their constant support, Tao's internal balance would collapse entirely, and all his progress would be lost. Even as the Luo parents' strength waned, their resolve did not. They continued to pour their energy into the green and blue essences, ensuring Tao's survival and stabilizing the fragile harmony within him.
Inside Tao's body, the struggle between the fading red, white, and golden energies and the resilient green and blue essences mirrored the battle within his soul—a delicate balance between life, sacrifice, and rebirth. The black essence had been suppressed, but the cost of that suppression weighed heavily on all who shared his fate.