Chapter 026: Nine Yang Little Thunderclap

Wang Bo glanced around, activated his透视眼, and after determining the route, said, "Alright, I'll lead the way from here."

Gandalf was startled and said, "You know the way?"

Wang Bo said, "I can see."

"See what?" Gandalf seemed not to understand Wang Bo's words for a moment.

Wang Bo said, "See all the rooms, forks, chasms, treasures, goblins, trolls, and mithril."

When he mentioned mithril, Wang Bo was also quite excited, because this was another fine treasure. The dwarves had originally lived in Khazad-dûm, now Moria, not for gold or gems.

But for mithril.

Mithril had many names in this world. Men called it true-silver, while mithril was the Elves' name for this metal.

The Dwarves' name for it was not shared with outsiders.

An equal amount of mithril was worth ten times its weight in gold, but now it was priceless, because only a very small amount of mithril remained on the surface, and even the Orcs dared not mine it here.

When the Dwarves originally mined mithril, they dug deeper and deeper, but they dug too deep and too hastily, awakening the Balrog that dwelt there.

In the end, under the threat of the Balrog, the Dwarves were forced to leave this place. And the mithril they had painstakingly mined was all given to Sauron by the Orcs.

However, a fair amount of mithril still remained in this place.

Wang Bo very much wanted to get his hands on it. As long as he had one piece of mithril, he could use the Replication Mirror to produce an endless supply, as much as he wanted.

Mithril was one of the most precious items in Middle-earth. To put it bluntly, if mithril appeared on the market, everyone would fight tooth and nail for it.

The reason this material was so expensive was due to its properties.

It had the ductility of bronze and could be polished like glass. The Dwarves could forge it into metal harder than steel yet lighter than a feather.

Its beauty was like that of ordinary silver, but mithril's luster never faded with time.

This material was also a treasure in other worlds. In the Marvel universe, it would be no less than other special metals. If mithril and vibranium were mixed together, the resulting artifact would surely be extraordinary.

Gandalf sensed Wang Bo's fervor for mithril and said slowly, "Once we investigate the matter of the Balrog's mutation, you may take all the mithril here."

Wang Bo did not stand on ceremony. He took the lead and advanced with Gandalf.

Any monster that dared to block their path, whether troll or otherwise, was slain by Wang Bo. Nine Yang sword qi burst forth, sharp and unmatched; no troll could withstand such keen剑气.

Nine Yang sword qi could cut through metal and jade, unless these trolls were all wearing armor forged from mithril.

Otherwise, there was only one outcome... death!

Gandalf did not mind Wang Bo's thunderous methods. Though he was a Maia, he too had no love for trolls. He gripped his sword Glamdring tightly, and if any troll escaped with its life, he would finish it off with a thrust.

The two soon arrived at a cavernous hall, more spacious and elongated than the halls they had passed through earlier.

In the center of the cavern stood two rows of massive stone pillars, carved like ancient trees, their tops branching into stone limbs that supported the intricately carved ceiling.

The pillars were black, their surfaces smooth yet reflecting a reddish glow.

Ahead, between two huge pillars, there was a deep fissure. Flames continuously leaped from the fissure, licking at the nearby pillars, and trails of black smoke swirled in the hot air.

Wang Bo stopped. Their arrival had already disturbed the master of this place.

A dark shape, human-like, appeared. An unimaginable aura of evil and terror was contained within it, constantly radiating outward.

It stepped before the flames, and the light dimmed as if obscured by a dark cloud.

Then it leaped over the fissure on the ground. Flames from the deep earth surged forth to greet it, igniting the mane on its back and trailing a long stream of fire.

Black smoke danced in the air, evoking a sense of impending doom. The monster held in its right hand a blade of flickering flame, and in its other hand a nine-tailed whip of fire.

Gandalf solemnly spoke the creature's name, "Balrog."

Wang Bo stepped forward, seeing the Balrog now close at hand. He could even feel its aura of evil and terror, but that seemed only natural.

Wang Bo did not sense within the Balrog the kind of evil energy that made Gandalf uneasy.

Though the Balrog was indeed powerful, to Wang Bo it felt no stronger than Gandalf.

Wang Bo looked back at Gandalf in confusion.

At that moment, the Balrog seized the opportunity to attack Wang Bo.

Seeing this, Gandalf could not help but roar, "Watch out!"

Wang Bo nodded in acknowledgment to Gandalf, and at the same time threw a punch. An irresistible force, like a mountain torrent, poured forth, shattering the Balrog's attack, and the surging fist force swept onward into the Balrog's body.

Nine Yang Five Ultimate · Thunderclap Divine Palm · Nine Yang Little Thunderclap!

Though Wang Bo used his fist, its essence was the Thunderclap Divine Palm of the Nine Yang Five Ultimate.

According to the manual, this technique, once executed, was like a thousand hydrogen bombs exploding, its power earth-shattering.

Wang Bo knew that was an exaggeration. He had already cultivated the Nine Yang Divine Art to the Nine Yang level, just short of the Ten Yang realm.

Yet even so, the Nine Yang Little Thunderclap he unleashed was far from the power of a thousand hydrogen bombs—not even the power of a single hydrogen bomb.

But undeniably, this move was indeed very powerful, more than enough to deal with the Balrog.

The Balrog's body stiffened. It felt a force enter its body, exploding layer by layer like a bomb. Its body suffered severe damage: the surface skin split, internal bones shattered, and the fist force continued to invade deeper, spreading further within.

For a moment, the Balrog could not help but let out a terrified roar. It felt that if it allowed this force to continue exploding inside its body, it would surely die.

But the problem was that this fist force was both substantial and insubstantial. The Balrog had never seen anything like it. Its battles with the Dwarves had always been straightforward, blow for blow, with skill only in combat techniques.

The Balrog had fought all its life, but it had never encountered such a troublesome and bizarre attack. It had no idea how to expel this invading fist force from its body.