Edmund crawled closer, curiosity flickering in his golden eyes. He reached out a claw and rubbed at the dark spot, frowning when it didn’t come off.

  “What’s that? What did you go through?” he asked, genuinely puzzled.

  Lauren’s voice was calm, too calm. “I had my skin peeled off, my tendons pulled out, and my Immortal roots taken.”

  Edmund froze, staring at her, unsure if he should be horrified or impressed.

  Then she smiled and tapped him lightly on the horn. “Relax. I’m joking.”

  Edmund’s expression didn’t change, but his tail flicked.

  Yeah right, he thought grimly, glancing at the bead again. The color doesn’t lie. You’re the one lying to me, little brat.

  .....

  A few days later, Lauren had gone through nearly all her talisman materials. She had drawn so many charms that even her once-bottomless stockpile was running dry.

  So, she went down the mountain to restock.

  After buying a new batch of supplies, she was about to return to Starfell Summit when she noticed something unusual in the distance.

  The sky above Cloud Peak had darkened, and thick clouds were clashing together, roiling like a furious sea. The thunder that followed was deafening, shaking the mountain itself.

  Everyone nearby stopped what they were doing, heads tilting skyward.

  “Someone’s breaking through to the Nascent Soul stage!”

  “It has to be Mr. Dante—he’s been in seclusion forever!”

  “Wow, then we’ll have to start calling him Grandmaster Dante!”

  “Oh no,” another groaned dramatically.

  “Forget it. You’re still an outer disciple. You’ll be lucky if he remembers your name.”

  Lauren couldn’t help but smile faintly. She hadn’t expected to witness Dante’s Core Formation back then, and now she was also here to see him take the next leap.

  Edmund popped his head out of her sleeve, eyes glinting as he transformed into his tiny dragon form.

  “Oh no,” Lauren muttered, already sensing what he was thinking.

  Sure enough, he spread his wings, tail flicking with excitement. He was planning to absorb the lightning energy from Dante’s tribulation again.

  Thunder rolled across Starfell Summit, illuminating the sky in veins of silver. From Lauren’s vantage point, the scene was spectacular—almost apocalyptic.

  A small golden figure stood beneath the storm, fearless despite the overwhelming clouds pressing down on him. Each bolt of lightning struck with bone-shattering force, yet he kept charging upward, again and again, refusing to yield.

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  His robes were reduced to tatters, skin smoking, blood hissing where it met the lightning—but the moment they tore, he replaced them with a flick of his sleeve and pressed forward once more.

  A little way off stood Gerald, watching silently. He didn’t intervene—only offered the occasional word of encouragement.

  When Dante’s legs buckled and he nearly fell, Gerald sighed, then tossed something toward him.

  “I’ll give you these Lightning-proof silkworm clothes,” he said with a pained look. “That clears our tab. You still owe me three thousand spirit stones.”

  “What?” Dante’s startled voice cracked just as another thunderbolt slammed into him, knocking him flat into the dirt.

  Beside Gerald, Logan groaned. “Can’t you settle the debt after he survives the lightning tribulation?”

  Gerald shot him a glare. “Then stop rushing me to pay him back!”

  Logan rubbed his forehead. “…....”

  .......

  After more than twenty thunderbolts crashed down, the roiling dark clouds finally began to scatter.

  A rosy glow spread through the sky, and moments later, multicolored spiritual rain descended with it — soft hues of gold, violet, and blue shimmering together like liquid light.

  The twin phenomena — the glow of ascension and the rain of heaven — appeared side by side, a sight so rare it felt almost unreal.

  Under the downpour, Dante’s body, blackened and charred from the lightning, began to change. Inch by inch, the darkness faded, revealing smooth, unmarred skin beneath. His aura grew stronger, purer, sharper — like a blade being reforged in divine fire.

  Below, the Thunder Sect disciples erupted into motion. They rushed forward eagerly, eager to bask in the spiritual rain, their faces lit with awe and excitement.

  The air itself pulsed with power. Just a single hour of cultivation under this rain could equal months — even years — of closed-door training.

  Moments like these were why disciples flocked to righteous sects. Every breakthrough of a great cultivator meant blessings for those lucky enough to be nearby.

  Lauren stood farther away, quietly watching.

  She didn’t approach. She never did.

  Even when her own heavenly tribulation had called down spiritual rain, she hadn’t dared to stand in it. For one, she was already at the Nascent Soul stage— the rain wouldn’t help her much. More importantly, she didn’t want to tempt fate.

  It was never wise to meddle with heavenly power that wasn’t meant for you.

  ......

  Not long after, Edmund returned, shimmering faintly with residual lightning energy.

  “How was it?” Lauren asked, glancing at the smug look on his scaled face. “Got yourself a nice meal this time?”

  “Not bad,” he said, grinning. “A lot more immortal energy than last time.”

  “How much have you recovered?”

  “Enough to help you plant another two acres of spirit land.”

  Lauren gave him a flat look. “That’s immortal energy, you shameless lizard.”

  He snorted. “I’ll need far more than this to break my seal. This little bit is nothing.” He paused, tapping his chin thoughtfully. “Still, with this much, the hole in the Sky-Covering Valley should be larger now. We can probably release the Foundation Establishment cultivators.”

  Lauren blinked. “There are Foundation Establishment cultivators in there?”

  “Not yet. But it’s a start. There’s hope now.”

  ......

  Two days later, Dante sent her a message.

  He was preparing to head out — another training expedition. This time, his destination was the Far North, a desolate, frozen wasteland rumored to hide forbidden zones untouched since ancient times.

  He was in the library when he reached out, asking if she was interested in joining him.

  Lauren agreed without hesitation.

  Dante was thrilled. Traveling with a powerful and terrifyingly wealthy teammate meant fewer risks and a higher chance of survival — not to mention, it just made sense.

  Not long after, he sent over the set of clothes he’d commissioned for her.

  The moment she unfolded them, Lauren froze in surprise.

  The scales — hard as steel when she’d last seen them — had been melted down and refined into threads finer than hair. They shimmered with a metallic luster, flexible yet impossibly strong. The fabric was soft, cool to the touch, but radiated defensive power that made even her spiritual sense prickle.

  In her past life, she’d once seen a luxury dress said to be woven from mermaid skin. This was what that must’ve felt like — breathtaking craftsmanship paired with deadly functionality.

  The outfit wasn’t just strong — it was stunning. Elegant lines, subtle sheen, a perfect blend of practicality and beauty.

  She remembered Dante mentioning that a senior sister had helped design it.

  Of course. Only a woman would think to make armor look this good.