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Early morning, before dawn.
Sha Lifei had already returned to his room, sleeping in his clothes with a wine jar in hand, sprawled out in all directions, snoring thunderously.
In the opposite room, Wang Daoxuan sat cross-legged with his eyes closed, storing God.
The small courtyard was dimly lit and silent.
Li Yan still stood in a horse stance beside the war drum.
He had practiced tirelessly through the night, finally mastering the rhythm, perfectly integrating the drum sounds with the echoes of the True Word from his mouth.
But this was only the foundation of the training.
Only by using the body as a drum and unleashing the Thunder Sound could he consider himself initiated.
However, he was unable to take that step forward.
An entire day of intense focus and selfless meditation had drained Li Yan mentally to the limit, leaving his mind groggy and exhausted to the point of death.
