Chapter 72: The Narrow Escape from Death
This novel is translated and hosted on Bcatranslation
This season, the air shimmered with the earthy glow of rising mist, and soft rain of light fell over the wilderness. In the distance, spring thunder growled faintly, and the thick, brooding clouds flickered with faint flashes of lightning.
With a sudden whoosh, a large group of people rushed into the Thunderfire Refinement Temple, crowding around Qin Ming. Men and women alike, their faces were tense as they hurried to find their places.
“What’s the rush?” came the raspy voice of Old Zhao, a seventy-two-year-old man who had proclaimed at the Drunken Glow Tower that this year, he would risk his life in the Thunderfire Refinement Temple, hoping for a miraculous revival. “The first roll of spring thunder is just the beginning. It’ll take a while before the real ‘blast’ hits. How the celestial phenomena unfold depends on the earthlight rising below.”
Old Zhao, his voice filled with authority, continued, “You youngsters… You don’t observe the fire fields, don’t study the earth mist, and can’t tell the seasons apart. Sure, the underground fire springs are starting to steam, and the rain of light above is already sparking celestial changes, but it’s not enough yet.”
A group of elderly men followed Old Zhao, each already dressed in funeral clothes. Their morbid preparation made the younger crowd shudder uneasily.
“Don’t be hasty,” Old Zhao added, a sly smile on his lips. “We’ve got time to write our wills, enjoy a good meal, and maybe even reconsider whether we want to die here at all.”
The elderly men weren’t just wearing funeral garments; they also adorned themselves with jade ornaments and carried their most cherished possessions, preparing to “take them along.”
“Are you all planning to use the Thunderfire Refinement Temple to cremate yourselves?” grumbled a burly, stubbled man with a sour temperament. Clearly, he felt offended by the grim display.
“Getting worked up, young man?” Old Zhao replied with mock sincerity. “No offense, but in years past, it’s a miracle if even one person survives this trial. Most of us are destined to accompany each other on Yellow Springs Road, so it’s better to make friends now and get along.”
The younger group exchanged uneasy glances. Though Old Zhao’s words were harsh, they rang true.
“If I’d known, I would’ve dressed in gold and silver, too,” sighed a young man, looking despondent. “If I die here, at least I wouldn’t have cheated myself out of luxury.”
Just then, an ancient voice croaked from the doorway. “Has my Golden Silkwood Coffin been brought in yet?”
The younger crowd fell silent. Clearly, these old-timers had even arranged their burial goods and grave plots.
“Don’t be shy, everyone!” another elder called cheerfully, beckoning the others. “Come, have some food and wine. We’re all death friends here—no need for formalities!” Plates of exquisite food and drink were promptly brought in.
The younger group ate in uneasy silence, their nerves frayed. In contrast, the elderly were relaxed, treating life as a fleeting dream, prepared to depart with calm acceptance.
“You’ve even prepared coffins and burial robes,” a young man muttered. “If you know there’s no hope, why come here to suffer? Wouldn’t it be better to avoid being struck by lightning altogether and keep your bodies intact?”
An elder answered sagely, “You won’t know unless you try. What if it works? In this world, nothing is guaranteed. Isn’t everyone here hoping to be the ‘one’ who survives?”
As the group settled in, they did a headcount—sixty-nine in total, about the usual number for this deadly endeavor. Relaxing, they began sharing stories, some laughing, others reminiscing about the past.
Qin Ming, however, kept glancing outside the temple. Xu Sheng had promised to arrange a corpse collector, but where was this person now? If they didn’t arrive in time, Qin Ming feared things might go terribly wrong.
“Young man,” an elder interrupted, eyeing him curiously. “Why are you here, so young and already risking your life?”
Qin Ming’s long black hair hung loose, obscuring much of his face, which was dirty and unkempt. Despite his disheveled appearance, the elder could tell he was just a boy.
With a weary sigh, Qin Ming replied, “I had no choice. In the distance, there’s a Millennial Giant Beast watching me coldly. I don’t know what it wants, but if I don’t raise my life force to a higher level soon, I won’t be able to control my fate.”
His words stunned the crowd. Knowing they might soon be separated by life and death, Qin Ming spoke freely, unconcerned by judgment.
The elder next to him turned to a wooden-faced boy and asked, “You can’t be older than fifteen or sixteen. Why are you here?”
The boy, Qian Cheng, responded in a monotone voice, “They call me stupid, always beating and humiliating me, forcing me to work for them. My grandmother has passed, and I’m all alone. I came to take a chance.”
The elder sighed deeply. “Child, you should leave this place. Come to my house; I’ll find you a job tending horses.”
Qian Cheng shook his head. “No, thanks. Pity fades with time.” His words, though simple, carried a depth that surprised Qin Ming.
Spring thunder rumbled again, still not striking, but the wait was agonizing. A tattooed, ferocious-looking man muttered, “This is torture. When’s the lightning going to hit?”
Noticing the stares he was getting, the man scowled and said, “Don’t look at me like that. I’m just a death row prisoner. They sent me here to take the lightning. If I survive, they’ll spare me the execution.”
“That’s a lightning sacrifice,” an elder murmured under his breath.
“What did you say?” the man barked, his temper flaring.
“Every year, nobles do this,” the elder replied. “Send in condemned criminals. Even if they die, their bodies retain some Celestial Light, which can be used to feed aberrations—or worse.”
The burly man’s face turned pale as the implications sank in. Dropping to the floor, he groaned, “This is worse than execution. First, I get struck by lightning. Then I’m either eaten by a monster or… or…” He trailed off, too horrified to continue.
Someone approached him from the shadows. “Stop shouting,” the newcomer said coldly. “Your family already took the money, and your son’s in school now. Are you going to back out?”
The man slumped in despair, silent and motionless. He wasn’t the only one. A dozen others wore the same defeated expressions, unwilling pawns in the schemes of the wealthy.
Qin Ming, meanwhile, had finished eating and was exploring the Sea of Emotions—a dark, turbulent place where he sought treasures to sharpen his mental strength. Even if he found nothing, the experience itself was valuable, helping him grow stronger.
“Hmm?” A sudden ripple caught his attention. While treating the resonance as mere training, he stumbled upon a powerful surge of energy.
In the black sea, a young man’s furious roar echoed as his body emitted faint silver light.
“I refuse to accept this!” the man cried. “I survived two spring thunders, grew stronger each year, and now I’m supposed to die? Why is the Thunderfire Celestial Light so overwhelming this time?”
In the vision, the man’s hair stood on end as he channeled a strange Thunder Force, fighting desperately against the invading light.
Amid the carnage surrounding him, bodies lay strewn across the ground, some charred black, others a vivid crimson. A few corpses were torn apart by the celestial light, creating a scene that resembled the very depths of hell.
“If only I had mastered Explosive Force properly,” the young man lamented bitterly. “It’s not even the true Thunder Force yet. I hate this—I was so close to accessing my sect’s supreme technique. But in my impatience to break through quickly, I ruined everything. I’ve destroyed my future.”
These thoughts were his final moments of regret as he lay immobilized, unable to escape. He cursed himself for his recklessness. Yet, at the last second, he pushed away his negativity. Every pore in his body erupted with Explosive Force, crackling like arcs of lightning as he made one final effort to resist the celestial light.
“I’ll survive this!” he cried internally.
And then, he exploded. His body was obliterated in a gruesome death.
Qin Ming, watching this unfold as if it were his own experience, felt a chill run down his spine. His hair stood on end. The scene was so bloody, so horrific, it shook him to his core.
Later, in the Thunderfire Refinement Temple, Qin Ming began training in that same Explosive Force. The technique was astonishingly powerful, capable of evolving into the legendary Thunder Force. To his amazement, Qin Ming discovered that Explosive Force was a composite technique, integrating several types of Celestial Light Force. Its destructive power was immense. When unleashed into the body of a millennial giant beast, it could cause its flesh to rupture and scatter in an instant.
“Qin, it’s not too late to back out now,” Xu Sheng said, appearing in a heavily disguised form. His appearance was so different that he was nearly unrecognizable. Beside him was the corpse collector, who had almost overslept.
Qin Ming shook his head. In a low voice, he assured them, “I’ve never been in better shape. I’ve already started practicing the Sun family’s Hammer Force and Whip Force.”
He had confided in Xu Sheng earlier, knowing he’d need to warn the corpse collector. After Qin Ming attempted to endure four waves of celestial light, the collector would need to drag him out of the temple—dead or alive.
Far off, the rumble of spring thunder echoed.
Two days later, real lightning began to streak across the skies. A light drizzle fell, and the horizon shimmered with red mist. The landscape looked ethereal, almost like daylight, its brilliance captivating.
Crowds gathered at Red Glow Mountain, as they did every year during this time. The thunderstorm heralded the start of an event where many lined up to face near-certain death. While most were there to gawk at the spectacle, some nobles waited patiently for their “lightning meat” to be carried out.
Inside the Mountain God Temple, the space was packed. All eyes were fixed on the lightning and thunder erupting over Red Glow Mountain.
Finally, spring thunder descended. It struck the golden tiles of the Thunderfire Refinement Temple, creating dazzling arcs of electricity. Balls of thunderfire rolled across the roof, their brilliance breathtaking. But the most terrifying sight was the celestial light from beyond the world, which pierced through buildings and sank deep into the mountain.
The temple’s intricate design allowed it to conduct electricity and mitigate the lightning, but it was far less effective against the celestial light. When combined with thunderfire, this light produced a rare, spiritual substance, which cascaded into the temple.
Qin Ming saw it all. After the first wave of thunderfire and celestial light, half of the people in the temple collapsed. Some lay motionless, their faces blackened, while others turned bright red, as if cooked through.
His heart trembled. The ferocity of the celestial light was undeniable. When it entered his body, it felt like boiling water coursing through his veins, threatening to cook him alive.
When the second wave descended, few were left standing. Qin Ming witnessed Old Zhao, a seventy-two-year-old man, erupt in a violent explosion.
The third wave struck. The pain wracked Qin Ming’s body, forcing him to lie down like the others. There was no point in standing out—lying on the ground also allowed him to absorb the celestial light and the spiritual substance.
From far away, faint sobbing and the sound of ropes being pulled echoed. Families knew their loved ones hadn’t survived the ordeal inside the temple.
By the fourth wave, the temple resembled a charnel house. Corpses that hadn’t been dragged out in time were torn apart by the celestial light. Near Qin Ming, the severed leg of Old Liu and an arm from another elder lay nearby, their funeral clothes charred beyond recognition.
The celestial light was terrifying, yet Qin Ming could sense the dense spiritual substance entering his body. He activated the technique from the silk manuscript, adjusting his body to harness the celestial light for his own use. This otherworldly light could be fused with the Celestial Light Force he already possessed.
Suddenly, Qin Ming realized something was wrong. The fifth wave of celestial light had struck, yet there was no movement from the corpse collector. He noticed half of Old Liu’s body being dragged away but saw no sign of himself being pulled out.
What is that corpse collector doing? Qin Ming seethed. He wanted to curse out loud.
As the sixth wave of thunderfire and celestial light, mixed with rare spiritual substance, descended, Qin Ming’s patience snapped. Is he really planning to leave me here to die?
Anger surged within him. He prepared to leap up and escape. He wasn’t about to let an unreliable corpse collector get him killed. Better to survive without keeping a low profile than to die pointlessly.
From a distance, someone called out to the corpse collector. “Hey, brother, we’ve pulled out all our employers already. Whether they’re intact or not, we’ve done our job. What’s taking you so long?”
“Doesn’t matter. They won’t survive anyway, whether I pull them out sooner or later,” the corpse collector muttered. “But I guess I’ll pull him out now, just to avoid complaints about pay from the families of the dead.”
Finally, the corpse collector moved.
Qin Ming was about to sit up when he felt a rope tighten around his waist. Slowly, painfully, he was dragged toward the exit. Clenching his teeth, he endured.
Why is he so slow? Does he have no strength? Qin Ming fumed, furious enough to consider killing the man as soon as he got out.
The seventh wave of thunderfire and celestial light struck just as Qin Ming was pulled clear of the temple. Part of the residual “tail light” scorched him, but he was finally outside.
Immediately, Qin Ming activated the secret technique Light Shroud, pretending to be dead.
Relief washed over him. The rich spiritual substance coursing through his body made him certain that his fourth awakening was within reach. He would regain the memories he had lost.