Achieving physical sainthood begins with the Iron Shirt technique!

Lu Chen grabbed the top-grade storage ring that belonged to Chen Yuanshan.

His pure Yang energy surged, and his large hand, like a red-hot branding iron, gripped the exquisite magical artifact tightly.

The ring is imbued with the protective divine consciousness left behind by a Foundation Establishment stage cultivator.

The two collided with a deafening roar.

The rough skin on Lu Chen's palm, which had just scabbed over and healed, was instantly cut and torn open by this invisible divine sense, leaving countless fine, bloody gashes.

He didn't even flinch, nor did he take a single step back.

Lu Chen violently mobilized the raging blood and qi of the twelve layers of "Iron Shirt" within his body, forcibly pressing upwards despite his own stubbornness.

A sharp, intense pain shot through the depths of his soul; an ordinary person would have screamed and rolled on the ground in agony.

Despite the excruciating pain, Lu Chen forcefully used his scalding pure yang energy to extinguish the remaining Foundation Establishment consciousness on the spot.

A mournful, desolate cry echoed through the air.

His consciousness completely vanished.

With his divine sense scattered, Lu Chen had no idea what immortal techniques involved in using true qi to gently probe and extract items.

The ten thick fingers exerted force suddenly.

The extremely forceful finger pressure acted directly on the fragile mustard seed array of the storage ring.

"Snap!"

The formation collapsed and exploded on the spot.

The pills and herbs inside the ring exploded and fell into the surrounding muddy ground like a torrential rain.

Lu Chen squatted down and roughly searched through the mess on the ground.

He quickly identified several top-grade, century-old snow ginseng plants that were extremely large and far exceeded the outer sect level.

These top-grade elixirs contain extremely potent cold poison; any mortal who comes into contact with even a trace of it will be instantly frozen into an ice sculpture.

Lu Chen ignored all of that, grabbed the snow ginseng, stuffed it into his mouth, and swallowed it raw.

The terrifying cold poison instantly backfired within his body, causing him excruciating pain even in the cracks of his bones.

However, the extreme furnace within his body operated wildly, forcefully crushing and stripping away the violent medicinal properties of the snow ginseng in an extremely domineering manner, forcibly taming it into the gentlest and purest life essence.

He kept confirming that not even the slightest trace of violence remained in his body.

Lu Chen then condensed it into a drop of crystal-clear blood.

He bit his tongue, lowered his head and leaned close to A-Nan, carefully transferring this drop of his heart's blood into the little blind girl's mouth.

Nourished by the medicine, Anan's high fever subsided, and she fell into a very peaceful sleep.

Then, Lu Chen grabbed the scattered "Qi Gathering Pills" and "Rejuvenation Pills" from the ground and poured them into his mouth, along with the white jade porcelain bottle.

After chewing and swallowing, his mortal body became incredibly domineering, directly expelling all the so-called "spiritual energy of heaven and earth" contained in the pill from his body like expelling waste gas.

He only extracts the most fundamental "essence and vitality of herbs and plants" from the elixir.

A surge of vitality coursed through his body, forcefully mending the severed tendons in Lu Chen's limbs and bones, giving him enough raw strength to undertake a long migration.

Strength has been replenished.

Lu Chen turned around, hoisted the town-suppressing stele, weighing 30,000 jin, back onto his shoulder, and strode several miles through the depths of Broken Immortal Mountain in the dead of night.

With each step, the ground trembled violently.

Lu Chen knew very well that if he carried this big rock over there, the ground tremors he made would definitely scare away all the rats in the black market.

He stopped in front of a secluded miasma valley, several miles away from the underground black market—a lawless place where rogue cultivators and outlaws gathered.

Lu Chen's shoulders suddenly felt heavy.

He slammed down the 30,000-jin (approximately 15,000 kg) road stele, smashing it heavily into the mud beneath his feet. Most of it was buried underground, serving as a safe camp that could be used for both offense and defense.

A-Nan is his only Achilles' heel.

Lu Chen absolutely could not leave her here alone.

He found a snow-white Taoist robe from the Qingxiao Sword Sect among the spoils of war; it was the only piece of clothing that could be considered clean.

Lu Chen first used the Taoist robe to cushion his bare shoulders as a way to insulate himself from the bloodstains on his body.

Then, he used strips of cloth to tightly bind the sleeping girl to his chest.

The supreme Daoist energy flowed through the snow-white Daoist robe, transforming into an extremely gentle warm current that continuously nourished Anan.

Only when he truly felt that A-Nan was in his arms did Lu Chen dare to unleash his killing intent without restraint.

To conceal his presence, Lu Chen pulled out a large black cloak of protection and draped it over his shoulders.

The large cloak completely concealed his bulging, iron-gray muscles and the hideous scabs.

Beneath the wide cloak, only a section of his thick right arm, wrapped in black iron chains, was visible.

The blood of cultivators that was originally stained on the iron chains had long been evaporated by the extreme high temperature remaining on Lu Chen's body, turning into a layer of dark red rust.

These rust marks are firmly imprinted on the surface of the refined iron, ensuring that they will not emit even the slightest fishy smell that would disturb Ah-Nan.

Those high and mighty cultivators need to use hand seals, chant incantations, and go to great lengths to borrow the spiritual energy of heaven and earth to kill people.

And all Lu Chen needs to do is clench this fist!

The scene changes.

The inner city of Xuanni City, the city lord's mansion.

In the spacious hall, the city lord lay sprawled on the ground, his face deathly pale.

In the center of the hall, several heavy cavalrymen who had managed to escape were kneeling on the ground, crying and shouting as they reported the battle situation.

"Master Chen is dead! He was brutally beaten to a pulp by a monster emitting bloody smoke!"

The city lord clutched his hair with both hands, muttering frantically.

"Without any magical fluctuations... yet able to tear apart a sword formation with bare hands..."

"Such ferocious monsters can only be created by the legendary savage monsters of the Western Wilderness, or by the Blood Demon Sect's lost 'Blood River Overlord Body' technique, which has been lost for a thousand years!"

"A Core Formation Demon Lord! There's definitely an old demon at the Core Formation stage lurking in Broken Immortal Mountain!"

The city lord had devised a complete self-strategy in his mind, thoroughly pinning the blame on the demonic path.

Terrified, he rolled on the ground, yelling, "Seal off the city! Activate the great formation and defend to the death!"

The city lord, who was terrified, had no idea.

At the very moment Chen Yuanshan died and vanished.

Tens of thousands of miles away, in the Soul Lamp Pavilion of the inner sect of the lofty Qingxiao Sword Sect.

The purple soul jade, representing the status of a Foundation Establishment stage cultivator, shattered without warning.

The shattering noise completely alarmed the inner sect elders who were in seclusion.

Our gaze returned to the present.

Outside Xuanni City, in that mud alleyway filled with a sour, stench.

The night was dark.

Old Zhang sat alone in the dilapidated house, staring intently at the broken stone tablet fragment on the broken wooden table, using the faint moonlight filtering in from the window.

The fragment that fell from the town's main stele had a faint, extremely faint blood-red light flowing across its surface.

Old Zhang stretched out his withered hands, grabbed the cold stone, and pressed it firmly against his chest.

The murky tears streamed uncontrollably down his deeply lined cheeks.

But this poor, down-on-his-luck farmer, who had lived a life of humiliation, straightened his back for the first time in his life that night.

The little grandson on the broken bed next to me wasn't asleep.

The little boy timidly asked, "Grandpa, do immortals never die?"

Old Zhang turned his head and reached out his rough hand to pat his grandson's head.

He solemnly placed the fragment of the Daoist stele in his grandson's palm, his tone more resolute than ever before: "As long as the bones aren't soft, even an immortal's neck is fragile."

Deep within Broken Immortal Mountain.

A huge blood moon peeked out from behind the thick clouds.

The cool, yet somewhat alluring moonlight poured down.

The moonlight shone on the tightly clenched fists of the old man and the young man in the muddy alley.

It also sprinkled on the black giant stele that stood tall in the dark, miasma-filled valley deep within Broken Immortal Mountain.

Having unloaded the heavy burden of 30,000 jin, Lu Chen felt so light that it was as if he had no weight at all.

He wore a large black cloak and pressed his left arm, which was protecting A-Nan, tightly against his chest.

He was like a ferocious beast that had completely suppressed its rage, silently stepping into the black mist of the deep mountains.

Tonight, he will use this single arm and the iron fist of a mortal to forcefully knock open that black door that devours people without spitting out bones!

The moment Lu Chen's foot stepped into the black market mist.

Several miles away, the 30,000-jin (15,000 kg) stone tablet, mostly buried deep in the ground, seemed to sense its owner's pure violent expedition from afar.

The heavy monument emitted an extremely deep hum.

The ground surrounding the entire black market trembled almost imperceptibly.

at the same time.

Before the gate of the underground black market, which was entirely made of piled-up white bones.

Two evil cultivators who were dozing against the bone wall suddenly felt their hair stand on end, and their scalp went numb all the way to their heels.

They looked in horror at the dark forest directly in front of them.

There wasn't even the slightest fluctuation of true essence there.

But a thick, violent, bloody aura, like that of an ancient ferocious beast, was crushing the darkness step by step, stepping over the withered leaves, and closing in!