Cultivation: I Can Steal Lifespan from Spirit Beasts

Chapter 168: Minor Heavenly Thunder Tribulation

Yan Country. Northwest Region. The borderlands where the Golden Billow River met the Endless Forest.

Wang Ba scanned the horizon. For ten miles in every direction, the land was a void of human presence.

To the southeast lay a labyrinth of desolate, barren valleys. To the north surged the Golden Billow River, its currents so turbulent that no ferry dared cross. To the southwest lay the three great danger zones guarding the perimeter of the Sword Billow Garrison.

It was a blind spot in the world—remote, secretive, and virtually untouched by ordinary cultivators.

“This is the place.”

Wang Ba exhaled slowly, steadying his nerves, and immediately deployed an array disk. It was only a First Rank array, but it offered a sliver of security.

With the perimeter set, he summoned the six Mountain Moving Apes and the Wu Ape King from his spirit beast bag.

The ordinary apes, disoriented by the sudden change in environment, scratched their heads and chattered, eyes darting around the unfamiliar terrain. The Wu Ape King, however, needed only a single sweeping glance before moving obediently to Wang Ba’s side.

Wang Ba rested a hand on the King’s fur, then activated the Spirit Beast Ring to corral the six subordinates.

He selected Wu Yi as the first subject.

Without hesitation, Wang Ba poured Lifespan into the creature.

He immediately pulled the other apes and the King back to a safe distance, his gaze fixed on Wu Yi. His heart hammered against his ribs.

It was finally time to verify his theory.

He treated the Minor Heavenly Thunder Tribulation with the utmost gravity. Though it carried the word “Minor,” it was still a Tribulation—the nightmare of every cultivator.

Typically, a cultivator would only face lightning when ascending from Foundation Establishment to the Golden Core realm. That ordeal, known as the “One-Nine Heavenly Tribulation,” usually consisted of nine bolts. It was considered the weakest of the heavenly trials.

The Minor Heavenly Thunder Tribulation was even lesser. Usually, it was a single bolt.

One strike. Life or death.

Though it paled in comparison to a human cultivator’s tribulation, one had to remember the target: a spirit beast that hadn’t even reached the Second Rank.

It was no wonder Mountain Moving Apes were so rare. Their survival rate was abysmal. Most were struck dead the moment they reached maturity, long before they could leave descendants.

Yet, this crucible forged power. Survivors of the lightning possessed potential and combat prowess far exceeding other beasts of the same rank. A First Rank beast surviving heavenly lightning was an anomaly; Wang Ba had scoured the Myriad Beast Department’s archives and found only a handful of recorded cases.

He pushed the distracting thoughts away and focused on Wu Yi.

The ape looked bewildered, unaware of the sword hanging over its head. But as the artificial aging took hold, an instinctual dread crept in. Wu Yi growled low in its throat, pacing anxiously, the fur on its neck standing on end.

The other apes shifted uncomfortably, sensing a looming catastrophe.

The air grew heavy, viscous. A shapeless pressure descended, making it difficult to breathe.

The Wu Ape King was the first to react, snapping its head up to stare at the sky. Wang Ba followed its gaze.

Directly above Wu Yi, a small, concentrated storm cloud was coalescing. Within the ink-black swirl, arcs of lightning snaked and popped, brewing a violent destruction.

Hiss!

Sensing the heavenly might pressing down on its skull, Wu Yi did not cower. Instead, the pressure ignited the ancient ferocity dormant in the Mountain Moving Ape bloodline. It bared its yellowed fangs and roared at the heavens, a challenge to the sky itself.

BOOM!

As if insulted by the beast’s insolence, the clouds answered.

A bolt of lightning, thick as a python, lashed down from the zenith and slammed into Wu Yi.

The impact was instantaneous. Flesh split, fur vaporized, and the creature was charred black in a heartbeat. The sickeningly savory scent of roasted meat wafted through the air.

Yet, to Wang Ba’s relief, Wu Yi did not fall. Though grievously wounded, the pain seemed to act as a stimulant. The ape shrieked at the clouds, adrenaline overriding agony.

You call that a strike? Come down here and try again!

Wang Ba almost laughed at the creature’s audacity, but his smile froze as he looked back up.

“Wait… why hasn’t the cloud dispersed?”

The pressure wasn’t fading. It was intensifying.

“The Minor Tribulation is supposed to be a single bolt. Did my interference—forcing the breakthrough with Lifespan—alter the tribulation itself?”

Before he could process the thought, the heavens roared.

BOOM!

The second bolt fell, faster and heavier than the first.

SCREECH!

Wu Yi howled. Its charred skin exploded outward, muscles disintegrating to reveal the stark white of bone beneath.

Wang Ba flinched.

It was terrifying. This was the might of the heavens. Even as a Foundation Establishment cultivator, he knew he would be vaporized instantly if he stood in that blast zone. The mere shockwaves radiating from the strike made his chest tight.

Silence followed.

Wu Yi was a ruin of flesh and bone, but a vibrant, heavy life force began to pulse from within its shattered body. Wang Ba let out a breath.

It was over. Wu Yi had passed.

But then, the hair on Wang Ba’s arms stood up.

“Still not done?!”

The dark cloud churned, refusing to fade.

Amidst a cacophony of thunder, a third bolt—thicker, brighter, and more majestic than the previous two combined—crashed down.

The vitality that had just begun to bloom was instantly scattered. The Spirit Beast Ring around Wu Yi’s neck shattered into dust.

Wang Ba stared, stunned. Struck by three consecutive bolts, practically stripped of flesh, Wu Yi still stood. The skeletal, charred figure raised its head and roared, its defiance unbroken.

Untamable. Unyielding.

That was the soul of the Mountain Moving Ape.

Finally, the dark cloud dissolved, and the clear sky returned. Wang Ba hurried over.

He could feel it—a pure, refined vitality waking up inside the ape. The ruined flesh began to knit together at a visible speed, regenerating with explosive force.

Destruction and creation were two sides of the same coin. The lightning that sought to obliterate the ape had also purified its essence.

Having survived the calamity, the reward was at hand.

And the first reward was… freedom.

Wu Yi’s eyes snapped open. The pupils were red, filled with tyranny and cunning.

With a sudden, explosive motion, it lunged at Wang Ba, claws extended to tear its former master apart.

Wang Ba didn’t flinch. He didn’t even move.

From the side, a blur of motion intercepted the rebellious ape.

Small, unassuming, but moving with terrifying velocity. The figure slammed into Wu Yi—who had just survived lightning and ascended to the middle of the Second Rank—and punched it into the dirt.

The Wu Ape King.

The King’s face bore a rare expression of cold authority. He bared his teeth, a silent warning.

Wu Yi roared and scrambled up. The new power coursing through its veins gave it a delusional confidence. It ignored the hierarchy and charged.

The Wu Ape King didn’t bother to block. He side-stepped with liquid grace, then stomped the ground.

Thud.

The earth shuddered.

Wu Yi lost its footing, stumbling in the vibration. The King seized the opening, grabbed the larger ape, and executed a perfect shoulder throw.

BANG!

Dust billowed into the air as Wu Yi hit the ground.

Before it could recover, the King descended. His fists became a blur, raining down like a torrential storm on Wu Yi’s unhealed chest.

Blood sprayed. Bones cracked.

It was not a fight. It was a unilateral dismantling.

Wu Yi’s delusions of grandeur evaporated under the barrage. It realized with crystal clarity: If this continues, I will die.

It curled up, burying its head in the dirt, signaling total submission.

Wang Ba watched the beatdown with satisfaction.

“True, Wu Yi is injured and not at peak condition,” he mused. “But the gap in combat instinct and technique is a chasm.”

Even fully healed, Wu Yi would never touch the King. The Wu Ape King was simply a different caliber of beast.

Wang Ba stepped forward and clamped a new Spirit Beast Ring around Wu Yi’s neck. The moment the restriction settled, the ape went limp, its rebellion extinguished.

Wang Ba wasn’t angry. Spirit beasts were beasts first. Without a long-term bond or the constraint of a ring, betrayal was just instinct. A creature suddenly gifted with immense power would naturally try to kill the thing standing above it.

He stored the battered ape back into the spirit beast bag and turned his attention to the others.

He had more Lifespan to spend.

Above, the clouds began to gather again.

Outside Canglan City.

Zhao Feng flicked his wrist.

A beam of sword light returned to his hand, silent and obedient.

In the distance, a cultivator shrouded in a sinister aura froze in mid-air. His eyes were wide, fixed on Zhao Feng in a stare of absolute horror. The realization of the gap between them had come too late.

He never got the chance to speak.

A heartbeat later, a thin red line appeared on his body. He split apart, the two halves drifting to the ground like cut silk.

On the city walls, Liu Yaodong watched with his mouth slightly open. His eyes were filled with a mix of worship and fear.

He had seen Zhao Feng fight multiple times in recent days. Or rather, he had seen the results. The battles ended before his eyes could even track the movements.

It was breathtaking. The cultivation gap was a mountain; the combat ability, an abyss.

To date, no Foundation Establishment cultivator had survived a single encounter with Senior Zhao.

And he always used only one strike.

Suppressing his trembling, Liu Yaodong hurried forward as Zhao Feng floated back to the wall.

“Senior, that was magnificent. The demonic cultivators have been terrified; rumor has it the survivors have already fled south.”

Zhao Feng ignored the flattery. His expression was cool, detached. “What of the Exquisite Ghost Market?”

“Ah, yes! This junior has secured a Market Entry Token,” Liu Yaodong said hastily. “Once we are inside, I will guide Senior personally to the second level.”

Zhao Feng nodded, satisfied. He turned to head back to his temporary cultivation chamber in the city.

Suddenly, he stopped.

His head snapped toward the horizon, his gaze piercing the distance. A frown touched his brow.

Liu Yaodong followed his gaze but saw only empty sky. “Senior…?”

“Someone is undergoing a tribulation,” Zhao Feng murmured. “But… it is strange.”

He focused his senses.

After parting ways with Wang Ba, Zhao Feng had chosen not to take the path of Body Seizing. Instead, he was reconstructing his true body using a Soul Nurturing Pearl. It was a harder road to the Golden Core, requiring immense resources, but it came with a unique benefit: his soul was exquisitely sensitive to the fluctuations of Heaven and Earth.

He could feel the faint ripples of a Heavenly Thunder Tribulation nearby.

But it was weak. Too weak to be a cultivator ascending to Golden Core.

Curiosity piqued. He was at the ceiling of Foundation Establishment himself. Soon, he would have to face his own lightning. Watching another endure it—even a strange, minor version—could yield valuable insight.

He didn’t hesitate.

“I will return shortly.”

Leaving Liu Yaodong blinking in confusion, Zhao Feng dissolved into a streak of sword light and shot toward the horizon.

Sorry, everyone. I said I’d update late last night, but I couldn’t get away.

(End of Chapter)