Cultivation Starts from Farming-Chapter 768 - 352: True Monarch Lan Ling (Part 3)

Such celestial wonders are indeed elusive, visible only to those with great destiny.

However, this setback is far from enough to shake his rock-solid Dao heart.

Xu Ping’s gaze remains sharp as ever, as he pilots the Escape Light, braving the sky full of thunder, continuing to explore deeper into the storm, his figure soon disappearing amidst the ravaging electric light.

Time flows by.

Another half-year passes in this sea of deathly sands.

On this day, deep within the Yellow Dragon Desert, a terrifying storm of unprecedented scale is brewing!

The atmosphere is suffused with an oppressive force that suffocates.

Gone is the sand sea’s lament; it is deathly silent, as if even the wind is intimidated by the impending terror.

Suddenly——

Rumble——!!!

The firmament seems to be smashed to pieces by an invisible gigantic fist! Thunderclouds, tenfold or hundredfold fiercer than before, manifest out of thin air and instantly cover an area of several dozen miles!

A massive geomagnetic storm.

A rare sight seen in a hundred years.

In the distant void, Xu Ping stands suspended, his dark green robe flapping loudly amid the chaotic flow of Spiritual Qi.

He gazes at the thunderous inferno covering dozens of miles, and, for the first time, a hint of seriousness appears on his usually calm face.

"Such a scale... is no ordinary natural disaster; it could even threaten the Mana Form of a Nascent Soul!" Xu Ping muses inwardly.

An ordinary Nascent Soul cultivator, if lacking powerful protective Spirit Treasure, would recklessly venture and have his mana quickly drained by the endless thunder, with any slight carelessness leading to harm to his Mana Form.

Yet Xu Ping is no ordinary Nascent Soul.

A glint flashes in his eyes; not only does he not retreat, but he instead plunges into it.

With mana surging around him, a layer of refined, glass-like blue light shield instantly unfolds.

Boom!

Crackle!

Countless terrifying bolts of lightning as thick as water barrels strike from all directions, like sharks smelling blood.

The violent energy smashes against the azure shield, creating intense ripples and deafening explosions.

Many bolts pierce directly through the shield, striking Xu Ping’s flesh harshly.

"Hmph!"

Xu Ping’s body trembles slightly, his blood and energy surging, as he forcibly withstands the strike that could cleave mountains.

The rampaging electrical currents sizzle across his skin, causing a nervy "zzzz" sound, yet they sink harmlessly like ineffective mud sliding into the ocean.

This is the terrifying advantage of a Fourth Rank Body Refining Cultivator in extreme conditions.

The ordinary Nascent Soul would constantly need to deploy Spirit Treasure, exhausting vast amounts of mana to resist.

But Xu Ping resists the bulk of the thunder’s power with just his flesh, reducing mana consumption severalfold.

In this war of attrition, his advantage is evident.

Xu Ping stands like a giant rock amidst raging tides, transforming his Divine Sense into an invisible giant net, carefully seeking within this chaotic thunder sea.

Time passes bit by bit; half an hour slips by swiftly.

He has searched the core region of the storm several times over, finding nothing but increasingly violent energy.

A sense of disappointment quietly crosses his mind.

Is it possible that this venture will return fruitless yet again?

Just as he was about to withdraw from the exhausting core of the storm to seek elsewhere—

Boom!

Crack—

A terrifying explosion, accompanied by the piercing sound of something hard shattering, suddenly echoes from a direction at the storm’s core.

The sound cuts through the deafening thunder, reaching Xu Ping’s ears clearly.

"Hmm?"

Xu Ping’s heart is stirred; this is no ordinary thunder sound.

Without hesitation, he conceals his aura to the utmost, merging with the thunder like a shadow, stealthily moving toward the source of the sound.

The robustness of a Fourth Rank Body Refining allows him to maintain near-perfect concealment even within chaotic energy flows.

Passing through a sand valley ploughed into deep pits by thunderbolts, the scene before him causes Xu Ping’s brows to furrow slightly.

A large Spirit Ship, adorned with dim purple runes, resembles a moth trapped in a web, being torn apart by countless raging thunderbolts.

The emblem of Purple Mountain Association on the ship’s body, a purple mountain ridge, appears fragile and helpless at this moment.

The ship’s protective canopy is already in tatters; multiple areas of the ship are charred and deformed, emitting thick smoke, clearly on the verge of collapse.

Upon the ship’s deck, a single figure remains, further sharpening Xu Ping’s gaze.

A female cultivator dressed in purple attire, her posture upright, her appearance lovely and features proud, possesses a vaguely recognizable semblance of an acquaintance from years past, though now filled with despair and unwillingness.

Her mana in the Golden Core Stage is surging to its peak, desperately maintaining the canopy of the Spirit Ship, resisting sporadic bolts penetrating through the ship’s gaps, blood already trickling from her lips.

It’s none other than Miao Sijia, the young master of Purple Mountain Association.

After years without contact, she has also formed her Golden Core.

Yet being trapped in the core of this world-ending storm, even Golden Core cultivation is but like futile resistance.

"It’s over..."

Miao Sijia gazes at the endless destructive thunder surging from all sides, the last glimmer of light in her eyes dims.

Despite all the reluctance and countless regrets, faced with such celestial might, there is only closing her eyes to await her end.

"It’s her!"

Xu Ping’s heart is equally surprised.

He has past connections with the Purple Mountain Association, having been favored in the association, and shared significant interactions with this young master.

With these ties akin to incense offerings, he cannot sit idly by and let her perish?

Quick as lightning, Xu Ping makes his decision.

He doesn’t reveal himself but instead points his fingers like a sword, and with a distant gesture targets the purple Spirit Ship struggling in the thunder!

Woosh—!

A surge of irresistible invisible force abruptly descends.

It is not an attack, but a wrapping. 𝒻𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝘯𝘰𝑣ℯ𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝘮

An enormous sky-supporting hand shadow, entirely condensed from pure mana, spans a hundred feet, disregarding the raging thunder, slamming onto the rear of the Spirit Ship.

Boom!!!

A sound deep as a colossal bell resonates.

The gigantic Spirit Ship, under the unimaginable force of this push, transforms into a gleaming purple divine light, like a cannonball frantically smashing through several thick chains of thunder ahead.