Chapter 359: Death and Life, What to Rely On

Lightning flashed and thunder boomed as the torrential rain poured down.

The already dim sky seemed to have been pierced by the rain, raindrops striking blades and swords. The glint of steel flashed through the raging downpour. Killing intent, like a ferocious tiger that had lain dormant for a long time, suddenly revealed its fangs, lunging through the darkness to pierce the enemy's neck with sword-like tusks.

Ning Changjiu stood suspended, sword in hand, glaring intently at the Golden-Winged Great Peng. His sea of consciousness expanded rapidly like circular waves, encompassing the entire battleground.

The Golden-Winged Great Peng instantly flapped its wings.

Ning Changjiu didn't see how it moved; it vanished from sight in an instant, and then a cold light flashed before him.

Ning Changjiu, wielding Yulei, wreathed in Netherworld qi, struck towards the golden feather sword light.

Metal shrieked, and an explosive heatwave surged towards their faces, instantly evaporating the rain and making their eyes redden.

Outside the cliff, where the heavy rain poured, the first clash of iron swords sounded like war drums heralding a battle between two armies. The fight instantly ignited, followed by a torrent of arrows like rain. Clashing weapons and armored horses charged, and bursts of sword light erupted like fire. White rainbows and golden light intertwined, illuminating the surrounding raindrops before evaporating them into vast clouds of white mist, which enveloped the two figures.

There were few mountains in the vicinity, mostly vast plains. As they ascended to higher ground, the whistling wind grew exceptionally loud, like furious ocean waves crashing one after another, lifting their figures to even greater heights.

The Golden-Winged Great Peng's external body had been destroyed, reducing its power by almost half. Its bones were shattered, and the Grand Sun Buddhist Kingdom Diagram and Sun Phoenix Azure Feather Sword had been ruined in the previous battle. These should have been fatal injuries, but the demon race's unimaginable tough physique and its five hundred years of willpower sustained it.

With the final piece of the Myriad Demon Art puzzle before it, how could it possibly give up?

Although Ning Changjiu was also severely wounded, his external injuries had recovered well due to the power of time. However, the forceful interruption when breaking through the Five Paths had left grievous internal injuries that would be difficult to heal quickly.

Though their original cultivation levels differed greatly, the Golden-Winged Great Peng's fatal injuries, which diminished its power, equalized the playing field, giving them a chance for a desperate fight.

Inside the cave, Siming lay weakly against the stone wall. Listening to the thunder and the clashing of swords from outside, her mind remained unsettled.

She looked at the white robe draped over her. The garment offered little warmth against the cold, but the heavy rain had washed it clean. There was no metallic smell of blood; perhaps because she had passed through a vast, dense forest, the collar carried a faint, fresh scent of herbs and wood.

Her gaze fell weakly upon the tattered white robe. She tried to gather the spiritual energy within her, but her injuries were more severe than she had imagined.

In the final desperate strike against the Nine-Spirit Saint, many joints throughout her body had been shattered by his lion's roar, making recovery slow. Most critically, her sundial had been drained of its divine power, dim and lifeless like a stone statue, and her sea of qi had been almost completely pierced, like a bamboo basket unable to retain even a wisp of spiritual energy.

Now, whenever she tried to circulate her spiritual energy, her chest felt as if molten iron had been poured into it, the searing pain making her sweat profusely.

She gasped continuously, her self-doubt like countless knives slicing at her spirit. She felt like broken porcelain, trying to piece herself back together, but the shards only cut her skin, leaving her hands covered in blood.

She detested this feeling. She hadn't cared when she lost to the Sin Lord, but the Nine-Spirit Saint was merely a mortal being of flesh and blood. No matter how strong his demonic power, how could he presume to transcend true divinity?

The faint fragrance from the white robe lingered at her nostrils, calming her mind slightly. She adjusted the balance between her spirit and body, striving to heal her injuries and regain strength.

She propped herself up and slowly crawled closer to the cave entrance, looking up at the sky.

Cold raindrops pattered against her face.

Her clear eyes, untouched by ice or snow, gazed at the dark sky. Amidst the flickering lightning, sword-fire spread with each clash, reminding her involuntarily of the fireworks in Yishang Street – fireworks that no amount of heavy rain could extinguish.

Above the downpour, the battle raged fiercely.

The scale of this battle was far less grand than Siming's initial fight with the Golden-Winged Great Peng, but its peril was even greater.

The ancient Yulei sword, infused with spiritual energy, glowed crimson. Wielding the slender sword, he swung it towards the flashing golden light, almost forgetting all other sword techniques. He focused solely on integrating the "Ink Rain Overturning Basin" style from the Heavenly Oracle Sword Scripture into his strikes.

He gripped the sword like a red-hot iron rod, wildly swinging and sweeping it towards the Golden-Winged Great Peng. His sword techniques harmonized with the tempestuous rain, erupting in lion-like roars, relentlessly pressing down on the Peng. It was as if the sword intent would never cease as long as the wind and rain continued to rage across the sky.

The Golden-Winged Great Peng's figure was completely enveloped by the sword light. Several times, it flapped its wings, attempting to disengage, but Ning Changjiu clung to it like a maggot to bone. Yulei's cold edge, though somewhat dull, cut through the rain like a newly sharpened blade in his hands. In their clashes, the Golden-Winged Great Peng's flesh was repeatedly sliced open when it couldn't dodge in time, spilling blood.

Suddenly, a clear cry rang out.

Ning Changjiu's ceaseless sword shadows, along with the surrounding heavy rain, were shattered by a single vibration.

Amidst the vast mist, a golden light suddenly appeared, blocking Yulei's sword as it lunged towards the chest.

The Ruyi Black Iron Divine Staff!

This divine staff had not reverted to its original form. It had previously been hidden in the void by the Golden-Winged Great Peng, poised to strike. But Ning Changjiu's offensive was too fierce, forcing the Peng to retrieve it prematurely and fight to the death.

Finally forcing the staff out, Ning Changjiu let out a sigh of relief. He had been highly tense, wary of the staff suddenly appearing and catching him off guard.

Now he could wield his sword with even greater abandon.

The two figures once again tangled and clashed.

A Saint Artifact truly lived up to its name.

Once it appeared, the Golden-Winged Great Peng, previously at a disadvantage in the exchange, instantly turned the tide. The Ruyi Black Iron Divine Staff possessed a natural suppression over Yulei; Yulei's skin-piercing, bone-biting Netherworld qi was effortlessly swept away by the staff. The Golden-Winged Great Peng swept its staff horizontally, each swing forcing Ning Changjiu to retreat step by step.

The Golden-Winged Great Peng's face, partially covered by a red raven mask, was washed by the rain, appearing wild and ferocious.

After forcing Ning Changjiu back a hundred zhang, the Golden-Winged Great Peng seized a momentary gap in his movements and brought its staff down in a mountain-splitting blow. Lightning in the sky flashed at that opportune moment, further amplifying its power.

Overwhelmed, Ning Changjiu was sent flying by the staff, crashing into the mountain wall. The wall instantly cracked, and his body was driven deep inside.

The Golden-Winged Great Peng violently flapped its wings and, holding the staff, appeared outside the cave.

It looked into the dark cave, where a golden light also began to emerge.

It was the Asura's divine body. Asuras were beings forged through countless hardships and multiple reincarnations; the density of their divine souls and strength of their wills were far beyond ordinary people. Ning Changjiu, fighting with renewed vigor, flew out from the cave, his divine body blazing, hurtling like a meteor towards the Golden-Winged Great Peng. At the same time, Yulei, hidden in his embrace, stabbed forward.

It was a sword strike that surged forward relentlessly but was full of openings, aimed directly at the Golden-Winged Great Peng's chest. The Peng hesitated slightly between trading blows and defending, ultimately choosing to block with its staff.

As sword and staff collided, the Asura's golden body manifested three heads and six arms, relentlessly striking at the Golden-Winged Great Peng's form.

The Golden-Winged Great Peng could no longer conjure the Heaven and Earth Manifestation; it could only rely on its formidable physique to endure. Its body continuously recoiled, and its flapping wings struggled to resist Ning Changjiu's encroaching power.

After pushing the sword force to its limit, the Golden-Winged Great Peng thrust its staff, pushing Ning Changjiu's sword away, then swung the staff down towards his head.

This should have been an exchange of offense and defense.

But Ning Changjiu did not block. Instead, he gripped his sword with both hands, aimed at its heart, and turned back to strike again.

This was a killing intent so absolute it bordered on self-destruction. A discordant crimson flared in Ning Changjiu's golden pupils. He had never before perceived his body and the sword in his hand with such clarity. Throughout his limbs and bones, his body's acupuncture points roared like vortices. He felt his spirit and the sword had become one, unable to distinguish if the sword was leading him or if he was leading the sword.

Similarly, the Heavenly Oracle Sword Scripture, almost etched into his being, was crystal clear. It was the most decisive sword of killing intent, requiring no defense, only a single strike to pierce the opponent's heart.

The sword plunged towards the Golden-Winged Great Peng's heart, clean, sharp, and flowing like water.

The Golden-Winged Great Peng was also startled by this sudden surge of killing intent, but it too was roused to ferocity, choosing not to defend. It continued to wield its staff, bringing it down on Ning Changjiu's head.

The Asura's golden body failed to withstand the staff. Ning Changjiu instinctively twisted his head, avoiding the tip of the staff, but the divine staff still landed squarely on his shoulder.

His left shoulder blade shattered. Ning Changjiu clenched his chattering teeth and simultaneously thrust his sword into the Golden-Winged Great Peng's chest.

The blade sliced through tough skin, plunged into extremely dense muscle, piercing through until it directly impaled the heart.

The Golden-Winged Great Peng let out a piercing shriek. Its eagle talons had already retracted to defend, gripping the blade tightly. Yulei sword erupted with red light, and its talons felt as if they were clutching a handful of fire, the scorching sensation like daggers cutting through its palm, the pain biting deep. But it did not release its grip; instead, it held on even tighter.

With one hand, it wielded the staff, crushing Ning Changjiu's shattered bones, and with the other talon, it gripped the blade, preventing the sword from penetrating deeper.

Ning Changjiu's left hand could barely hold the sword. His body trembled, and he gasped continuously. Between them, killing intent occasionally collided and burst forth, creating teeth-grating sounds.

"You are an ancient god reincarnated, the spirit of the Golden Crow, aren't you...?" The Golden-Winged Great Peng looked at him, letting out a sharp laugh. "You remnants are truly impossible to eradicate."

Ning Changjiu said nothing, concentrating fully on pushing the sword deeper into the opponent's body.

He hunched his back as the torrential rain ceaselessly pounded upon it. The blood within him was constantly being washed away, and his body felt as though it was shriveling.

The Golden-Winged Great Peng's sharp talons were covered in blood. Yulei sword's edge had reached its bones, yet it showed no sign of pain; its face was twisted with pure madness. It raised its staff again, bringing it down on Ning Changjiu's head. This time, the opponent had nowhere to run!

Ning Changjiu suddenly looked up.

The Golden Crow illuminated the rainy night.

The Golden-Winged Great Peng sensed a deadly danger. It wanted to withdraw its staff and flee, but its body was locked by the sword, unable to pull away.

The Golden Crow swept over both of them, transforming into a line that drew them both in, disappearing into the rainy night.

When the Golden-Winged Great Peng regained its senses, it found itself in a realm filled with fragmented starlight, where countless broken, lava-like particles floated in the sky.

The Golden-Winged Great Peng knew this was a place akin to a shattered divine kingdom, and it seemed a sun had once exploded in its midst.

This was Ning Changjiu's divine kingdom. Although he hadn't fully gained control over its power, he possessed the kingdom's favor, giving him overwhelming strength against his opponent.

"Your secrets are indeed more numerous than I imagined," the Golden-Winged Great Peng sneered, opening its blood-stained beak.

Ning Changjiu pushed the sword deeper, his eyes sharp as blades. "This will be your graveyard."

He endured the intense pain precisely to pin down his opponent and draw it precisely into this place. This was one of his ultimate trump cards, meant for a decisive one-hit victory.

Ning Changjiu's left shoulder was still unusable. His sword-wielding hand transformed into a palm, striking the hilt to drive the sword deeper into the Golden-Winged Great Peng's heart.

Although the Golden-Winged Great Peng was now at an absolute disadvantage, it showed no panic.

It raised the Ruyi Black Iron Divine Staff.

Ning Changjiu's expression changed slightly; he had guessed its intent. He immediately poured all his strength into the sword. With a cracking sound, a section of the Golden-Winged Great Peng's finger was severed, but its staff simultaneously smashed down towards this world.

At this moment, it lacked the power to smash open a world. But the staff could.

This was its innate ability!

In ancient times, a Saint wielding it had traversed the heavens and earth, north and south, shattering countless worlds of ancient gods, let alone this broken kingdom.

As the divine staff descended, a great wall of water seemed to rise, churning up monstrous waves.

With a roar, the torrential rain poured down once more, instantly drenching both of them.

The Golden Crow, countered by the divine staff, transformed into a golden stream and flowed back into Ning Changjiu's body. But how could the Golden-Winged Great Peng allow that? It extended its severed-fingered hand, activating its authority to devour, attempting to pull the Golden Crow into its own body.

Ning Changjiu was greatly alarmed. His proud spiritual power had failed to overcome the Myriad Demon Art; in that instant, he had lost control of the Golden Crow.

If the Myriad Demon Art succeeded, the Golden-Winged Great Peng would instantly reach a new realm, and then everything would become irreversible.

Just then, a silver light, like a whip of light, flashed past the corner of his eye. When he looked again, that light arrow had already pierced the palm of the Golden-Winged Great Peng's hand, the one it was using to wield its authority.

The Golden Crow transformed into a stream of light and escaped back into Ning Changjiu's body.

Outside the cave, Siming raised her hand, fingers intertwined. Only after confirming that her single strike had hit the Golden-Winged Great Peng did her arm fall limply.

Amidst the Golden-Winged Great Peng's screams, Ning Changjiu, inspired, gripped his sword with his right hand and delivered a killing blow to the Peng's heart, using the Heavenly Oracle Sword Scripture's ultimate technique.

*Pch!*

Blood spurted wildly. The demonic blood, meeting water, ignited like fire, and smoke billowed.

At the brink of life and death, the Golden-Winged Great Peng, which had fought bravely all its life, chose to retreat. It was the correct decision, for otherwise, its heart would have been directly cleaved.

Wound upon wound, the Golden-Winged Great Peng's already collapsing strength threatened to overwhelm it at any moment.

Its mangled hand clutched its heart, as it gathered its last ounce of strength and lunged towards Ning Changjiu.

Ning Changjiu showed no fear. His remaining Asura body, embedded in his flesh, also charged towards the Golden-Winged Great Peng.

With a *bang*, the Golden-Winged Great Peng's figure was sent flying backward, plummeting rapidly towards the ground.

Ning Changjiu's thin clothes were soaked with blood, and beneath them, his muscle fibers were torn and his flesh mangled. He had little strength left to fight, but he knew this was the best chance to kill the Golden-Winged Great Peng. He let out a low growl, sustaining himself with something as intangible as willpower, and pursued the Golden-Winged Great Peng in its descent.

In the dense forest, the rain had lessened.

The area was filled with thick mist from the evaporating rainwater.

The Golden-Winged Great Peng was nowhere to be seen.

Ning Changjiu looked around. Among the slippery moss and in the muddy ground, a stream flowed away into the distance. There were traces of blood in the stream water and the surrounding mud.

The Golden-Winged Great Peng had escaped along this stream...

Ning Changjiu didn't hesitate, immediately taking up his sword and pursuing along the bloody trail he sensed. But at that moment, faint shouts of demon soldiers could be heard from behind.

It turned out that before the Golden-Winged Great Peng arrived, it had already anticipated this and set off a flare signal. Now, as the battle was about to end, the demon soldiers who had received the signal were almost upon them.

Damn it...

At this moment, the severely wounded Siming was still in the cave.

He took a deep breath, immediately turned, and ascended the cliff face like a cloud, returning to the cave. Without a word, he grabbed Siming's arm and pulled her body up.

"Why aren't you pursuing it?" Siming asked weakly.

"Someone's here," Ning Changjiu said.

Behind them, blazing torches spread through the rain.

Siming gritted her teeth. "Go on, pursue it. I can handle these miscellaneous soldiers... *cough, cough*."

"Less talk," Ning Changjiu said, bending down to let her lean against his back.

Siming pursed her lips and weakly leaned onto him, her bloodless arms limply draped around his neck. Her slender, jade-like hands, hanging down to his chest, were cold as ice. Their backs and chests fit almost perfectly together. She rested her head against Ning Changjiu's neck, silent.

Ning Changjiu took a deep breath. As the torches drew near, he suddenly moved, leaping between the cliff walls with the woman on his back. In a few flashes, he temporarily evaded the pursuers and vanished into the vast forest.

Ning Changjiu hesitated by the stream for a moment, still feeling he couldn't abandon such a good opportunity. Carrying Siming on his back, as he put distance between himself and the demon soldiers, he continued to pursue the severely wounded Golden-Winged Great Peng.

Siming's head was buried in the hollow of his neck. Her jade-like body, pressed against him, felt soft and boneless. If it were just simple running, this slight weight would hardly be a burden.

Ning Changjiu felt her breath lingering on his neck. Her breath was cold, as if she were exhaling not air, but frost.

"What's wrong with you?" Ning Changjiu asked anxiously.

Siming's lips and teeth felt cold, and her breath was like frost. She softly reassured him, "It's nothing... As long as my sundial isn't broken, I won't die."

Despite her words, only she clearly knew that more and more cracks were appearing on her sundial.

She didn't know why this was happening, but she had a guess: she was a life form born in a divine kingdom. Her body was fundamentally out of place in this mortal world. For example, she remained spotless; apart from rainwater, no speck of dirt here could cling to her. While this was miraculous, it also meant that she wasn't essentially a native of this world.

Having been away from her divine kingdom for too long, and now in a new world, the rules of this new world had never truly accepted her.

In the past, she was powerful, and these weak rules couldn't affect her. But once her power was depleted, the very things she had once disregarded would instantly transform into deadly knives and swords, attempting to slowly dismantle her, turning her into nourishment for this world...

She had to return to her own divine kingdom to recover. But... that was an impossible task.

She buried these thoughts in her heart, not telling Ning Changjiu.

Ning Changjiu said, "Go inside the Golden Crow; it's warmer there."

"No!" Siming firmly refused.

This world didn't accept her, and in the Golden Crow's divine kingdom, her backlash would only be more severe.

She didn't state the true reason, instead softly saying, "My power is slowly recovering, just like before. If I weren't helping you, the Golden Crow would have been stolen... I'll stay out here to assist you... it's better."

After speaking that long sentence, Siming's chest heaved violently. She leaned on Ning Changjiu's shoulder, feeling the warmth of his body amidst the cold—the only warmth she could feel at that moment.

Ning Changjiu continued his pursuit along the winding stream.

Ahead, the scent of blood grew stronger.

His mind was highly tense, prepared for the Golden-Winged Great Peng to ambush him from the thick mist or dense bushes.

But he gradually became distracted... because he felt the body on his back getting colder little by little, and the faint breath on his neck growing weaker.

"Siming!" Ning Changjiu exclaimed in alarm, immediately calling out.

"Mmm," Siming responded with a hum.

Ning Changjiu asked, "What exactly is wrong with you? Tell me the truth!"

Siming whispered, "It's nothing, just a bit... cold."

Ning Changjiu's heart jolted. He immediately said, "I'm not chasing the Golden-Winged Great Peng anymore. I'll heal you first."

"Pursue it," Siming said, her brow slightly furrowed. After uttering a single syllable, she gasped, struggling. "You must... kill it."

Ning Changjiu spoke rapidly, "Don't worry, my sixth senior brother is very powerful. We'll find a place to hide, and he'll surely come find us after defeating the Nine-Spirit Saint. I... I'll heal you first... *cough, cough*..."

As he spoke, his internal injuries flared up, making matters worse, and he spat out a mouthful of blood.

Siming slightly opened her eyes, looking at the shoulder she was leaning on—his left shoulder. Only then did she realize that the bones in that shoulder were completely shattered. How much pain must he have endured, with her resting on it all this time...?

Ning Changjiu stepped into the wet, muddy ground, his feet sinking slightly.

He wanted to put Siming down, but she said, "I'm fine... You... hurry and pursue..."

No matter what she said, her body was irreversibly growing colder. She realized she was gradually losing control over her physical sensations, no longer feeling pain or exhaustion. She also knew that if this continued, she would surely die.

"Ning Changjiu!" Siming's voice was slightly hoarse.

"What?" Ning Changjiu asked.

Siming's icy lips trembled as she stammered, "Slave mark... stimulate the slave mark... quickly!"

Although Ning Changjiu was filled with doubt, he did as he was told, connecting with the slave mark through his thoughts.

Behind him, Siming's faint groan, delicate as a wisp of silk, was heard. She felt no shame; instead, she experienced a life-affirming joy. The slave mark was linked to her divine soul. As it was stimulated, her physical sensations gradually returned, and the cold was somewhat dispelled. It was as if she had found a bonfire in an icy wilderness, greedily drawing in its warmth.

But the sundial's disintegration had not stopped.

"Keep... *cough*... going!" Siming's voice was soft and urgent. "Don't, don't... stop."

"Okay," Ning Changjiu said. He also felt her spirits lift slightly and quickly diverted some attention to stimulate the slave mark, allowing her body to gradually warm. What was once a symbol of master-slave punishment had now become her final lifeline.

Siming felt the continuous surge of electric current within her body. She reveled in it, her body trembling incessantly. If her arms weren't so weak, she would have actively reached for the other mark that Lu Jiajia had left.

The night deepened, and visibility grew increasingly low.

The sounds of the demon soldiers' pursuit had long been left behind.

Ning Changjiu's cracked lips constantly moved as he spoke to her, fearing she might silently slip away. Siming replied simply, indicating she was fine.

The scent of blood in the stream grew thicker. Ning Changjiu, listening to the woman's faint, mosquito-like whispers and gradually warming breath beside his ear, bounced among the stream's rocks, pushing with all his might out of the thick mist.

Beyond the dense mist stood a towering, perilous peak.

Ning Changjiu had never been here or seen this place before. He looked up; the perilous peak soared into the clouds.

The trail of blood didn't cease. Ning Changjiu discovered fragments of internal organs mixed with the blood—the Golden-Winged Great Peng was at its last gasp.

Ning Changjiu followed the blood trail, finding a hidden stone staircase. He turned his head, looking at Siming with concern, and asked, "Are you alright?"

"Yes," Siming replied.

"Siming!" Ning Changjiu's voice suddenly became stern, his pupils gleaming with moisture. "Don't forget who you are! If I forbid you to die, you won't die! Tell me the truth, how are you really...?"

Siming suddenly smiled, a weak smile. She didn't answer directly, but her words came in gasps: "Neither of us has an umbrella anymore... I want to... *cough*, see it die."

Ning Changjiu stood silently for a moment. He gritted his teeth, enduring the pain in his left shoulder, and said, "No, I'll heal you first! Once you're better, we'll go kill it together."

"No!" Siming protested. "There's no time... Do you want me to die with regrets?"

Ning Changjiu stiffened, horrified. "What did you say?!"

Siming gave a bitter smile and finally spoke the truth: "My sundial is about to shatter... no one can save me, Ning... Ning Changjiu, that morning, the mirror... I... *cough, cough*..."

Her words were cut off by coughing. She coughed up a mouthful of blood, which was congealed from ice crystals.

Ning Changjiu trembled all over and said, "Don't say another word! Hold on... I will definitely save you!"

Siming closed her eyes, her eyelashes covered with a layer of frost. She continued, "Kill... the Golden-Winged Great Peng... This is my last wish."

Ning Changjiu's mind was completely in chaos.

He wanted to say something, but the words caught in his throat.

If what Siming said was true, he indeed couldn't think of any way to save her.

He looked around frantically, then suddenly tilted his head back, gazing at the immense, seemingly endless peak.

An inspiration struck him.

"Kun... Kunlun?" Ning Changjiu muttered to himself. "That's right! Kunlun!"

Master is on Kunlun! There's nothing in this world she can't do! Fate brought him here; it must mean he has to climb the mountain!

The fervent thought had just surged in his mind, and he was about to tell Siming. But then a bucket of cold water was poured over him: he saw the prominent red characters on the peak: "Tianzhu."

This was Tianzhu Peak, not Kunlun.

Ning Changjiu was stunned for a moment, with no time to think deeply. Whether it was to kill the Golden-Winged Great Peng or reach Kunlun, he had to climb this mountain... he could only climb this mountain!

A piercing pain suddenly shot through his left shoulder.

Earlier, Siming had known about his injured left shoulder and had deliberately kept her head slightly raised. Now, with no strength left, she could only lean gently against it.

"Hold on..."

Ning Changjiu's heart twisted in agony. He whispered, then stepped onto the stone stairs, leaping forward and sprinting madly up the mountain.

Lightning flashed and thunder boomed as the torrential rain poured down.