The Great Dao: A Sixty-Year-Old Daoist’s Rise to Enlightenment
Chapter 270

Mountains and Rivers, Society and Millet Diagram

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Rumble!

Lightning danced like silver serpents, thunder shaking a thousand mountains.

The terrifying Tribulation Lightning drew the Daoists of the Truth-Seeking Abbey to watch.

Some Fourth-Generation True Persons, led by Chang'anzi, gazed skyward with wonder flashing in their eyes. They followed the path of Guardians.

The other Fourth-Generation True Persons, led by Changchunzi, seized the opportunity to teach their disciples, letting them experience Heaven's might.

They were responsible for the sect's affairs.

Civil and martial duties were clearly divided, and the two sides worked seamlessly together.

Thinking of his Dao Body, just one step from advancing, and of his Great Emperor of Antarctic Longevity Dharma Body, Xuanming told Xuanxu and the others to wait there while he headed straight for the Tribulation Lightning.

"Senior brother actually intends to undergo the tribulation alongside the Dharma Treasure!"

Xuan Yang cried out in astonishment.

Although Xuanxu and the others knew that Senior Brother Xuanming acted with care and never fought an unprepared battle, the Tribulation Lightning surged and Heaven's might rolled boundlessly. Interfering in a Dharma Treasure's tribulation would multiply its power, and they could not help looking worried.

Yet none of them stopped him.

They believed Senior Brother Xuanming could handle it.

Rumble!

The dark clouds spread, and sure enough, the Tribulation Lightning expanded.

Heaven's might grew heavier, as though enraged by the challenger.

A blue thunderbolt as thick as a bucket crashed down. The scroll above his head slowly unfurled and swallowed it whole.

Crackling rang out. Wreathed in electric arcs, the scroll shone with Mysterious Yellow radiance as though it had consumed a nourishing tonic.

Rumble!

Thunderbolts descended one after another.

The scroll feasted merrily, its precious radiance growing ever more brilliant.

It seemed a bottomless pit, refusing nothing. Even the mass of falling thunderbolts vanished like clay oxen sinking

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