Achieving physical sainthood begins with the Iron Shirt technique!

In the dilapidated courtyard of the mud alley.

The guard commander grabbed Old Man Zhang's wrist, his black iron boots slamming down on the old man's wrist bone. With a crisp "crack," the old farmer's hand, which had been tightly gripping the broken monument, finally loosened its grip.

The commander bent down and snatched the black, blood-stained stone fragment from the ground, clutching it tightly in his palm.

The moment he gripped it, the fat on the commander's face twitched violently.

He keenly sensed that the protective aura attached to the surface of his palm was completely swallowed up by an unreasonable suction force the moment it touched the surface of the broken stone.

The commander recalled the terrifying scene from just now in this muddy alley, where this broken stone swallowed a high-level fireball talisman whole.

"Go, seal off the courtyard!" the commander roared at his subordinates.

He turned his back and tentatively channeled a wisp of true energy from his dantian into the broken stone through his palm.

There was no repulsion, no explosion. The moment the true essence entered, it vanished without a trace, as if a clay ox had disappeared into the sea.

"Good stuff... absolutely good stuff!" the commander roared in his heart, the greed in his eyes almost bursting forth in a tangible form.

He knew perfectly well that the high-ranking elders in the immortal sects dreamed of obtaining a magical artifact that could block divine sense from probing them. And this broken stone in his hand was not only capable of blocking the divine sense of a Foundation Establishment cultivator, but it was also an ancient treasure powerful enough to be "impervious to all magic and capable of devouring true essence"!

If it were crafted into a heart-protecting mirror, it would be like having an extra life in the world of cultivation!

"Commander, this old man's bones are all broken, what should we do?" A heavily armored guard, carrying the old man Zhang who was slumped in a muddy mess, came forward to ask.

The commander quickly stuffed the broken stones in his hand into his clothes, turned around, and put on a stern face.

"Didn't the inner city's defensive wall collapse during the day? We're just short of materials to fill the array's core." The commander waved his hand. "Secretly escort this old bastard back to the city and throw him directly into the array's core as a human stake."

"Then what about the matter in this courtyard..." the guard hesitated.

"Shut your mouths, all of you!" The commander lowered his voice, his tone filled with undisguised murderous intent. "Anyone who dares to leak even a whisper that a strange magical artifact has appeared here, I'll chop them up and feed them to the monsters in the back mountains!"

The guards around him trembled with fear and nodded repeatedly in agreement.

The commander turned his head, placed his palm on the inner armor close to his body, and touched the hot stone.

He was completely unaware that inside this broken stele, soaked in the blood of mortals, a faint, dark red, barren pattern was resonating with, through the thick night, in some indescribable way with, the 30,000-jin (15,000 kg) mother stele deep within Broken Immortal Mountain.

Not long after he placed the stone close to his body, a violent and domineering pure human vitality surged wildly, drilling into his very marrow from his chest.

The commander felt an unbearable heat throughout his body, and a strange flush of excitement appeared uncontrollably on his cheeks.

The immortal essence that was originally flowing freely in the meridians now felt as if it had been filled with molten iron, so heavy that it could not be moved at all.

"Damn it, that kick was too forceful and aggravated the old wounds from fighting on the border." The commander muttered, panting heavily.

He assumed it was just an old injury from years ago flaring up, completely disregarding the possibility of the Extreme Dao Assimilation Law, and led his men to drag Old Man Zhang away from the courtyard.

The mud alley returned to silence.

In the cellar passageway covered with wood ash and dry firewood.

Li Laosi was completely submerged in stinky water, his two hands, covered in mud, tightly covering his mouth.

Through the cracks in the wooden planks, he watched as Old Man Zhang was dragged away like a dead dog by the pack of henchmen of the immortal sect. He bit his lip hard, the taste of blood spreading in his mouth.

The seeds of hatred took root and sprouted completely in this muddy bottom of society.

……

The scene shifts back to the depths of Broken Immortal Mountain.

The night wind carried damp, cold miasma through the forest.

Song Que, stepping on that top-grade flying sword, followed the unusual ditch that the city defense army had recently discovered on the outskirts, advancing from the outside in.

The deeper you go, the more severely the moisture in the earth's veins is drained.

Ahead, an extremely dense aura of a second-tier demonic beast rushed towards him, forcefully blocking his path.

"Playing tricks." Song Que sneered.

He raised his hand and roughly pushed aside the half-person-high withered yellow weeds in front of him with the scabbard of his sword.

The sight before him caused the usually aloof and arrogant deacon of the Azure Sky Sword Sect to catch his breath.

Beneath their feet lay an exaggeratedly wide, semi-circular ravine, spanning two zhang (approximately 6.6 meters).

This was not simply a matter of soil being turned over; rather, the hard rock layers beneath were all crushed into fine powder by some unimaginable weight.

Song Que leaped off the flying sword and landed steadily on the edge of the ravine.

He crouched down, extended two fingers, picked up a bit of soil powder from the bottom of the ditch, and brought it close to his eyes to carefully examine the terrain.

By the faint moonlight, he could clearly see with his naked eye that the powder had been compacted to be harder than the pig iron used to forge weapons in the Immortal City.

"These are definitely not traces left by magical bombardment." Song Que rubbed the powder off his fingertips, his facial muscles taut.

His expression became more serious than ever before.

There wasn't a trace of scorching from true essence, nor any remnant of spiritual energy. This passage was entirely carved out of the mountains and forests by sheer physical strength and relentless grinding!

He changed the terrain purely with his physical body!

This pure, extreme force caused Song Que's heart to pound wildly in his chest.

He developed an extreme fervor for this unheard-of body-refining method. If he could obtain this technique, his status within the sect would undoubtedly rise rapidly. However, at the same time, a deep-seated apprehension also began to creep into his very bones.

"To be able to drag such a heavy thing through the forest, the physical exertion must be astronomical." Song Que stood up and patted the dust off his hands.

"He can't go far!"

Song Que immediately adjusted his search direction, pointing his sword tip directly at the end of the ravine—the deepest valley halfway up the mountain where the miasma was most concentrated.

"Pass down the order: everyone move towards the mountainside and surround the area!"

After giving instructions to the inner disciples behind him, Song Que took out a communication talisman covered with crimson patterns from his storage bag.

True essence suddenly poured in.

Crimson runes shot into the sky with a piercing shriek.

The rune soared upwards, and the moment it touched the pale blue dome of the Sky-Locking Array, it exploded with a deafening roar.

The extremely dazzling red light, like viscous blood, instantly stained half of the array dome red.

The battle royale in the dead of night officially began at this moment.

As the blinding red light tore through the darkness, Song Que, standing at the foot of the mountain, subconsciously looked up at the high place.

With a fleeting glimpse of the crimson lightning, he vaguely caught a glimpse of the scene deep within the miasma halfway up the mountain.

A burly, dark figure, resembling an ancient demon god, carried a massive black stone tablet and vanished in a flash under the red light.

dark place.

Lu Chen steadily carried the 30,000-jin town road stele, his eyes deep and composed.

He stretched out his large left hand and gently covered the eyes of the girl in front of him, which were covered by white film, to shield her from the blinding red light above her head.

Without pausing for a moment, Lu Chen suddenly turned around, exuding an extremely terrifying sense of oppression, and decisively disappeared into the depths of the miasma.

The immortal deacon and the mortal being of the highest level completed their first long-distance eye contact across the thick fog, amidst the flickering light and shadows of different heights.

"You pretentious mortal stray dog, watch how I crush your bones inch by inch." Song Que sneered as he watched the disappearing silhouette.

He was about to continue his sarcastic remarks when the words caught in his throat.

Song Que suddenly realized that his right hand, which had been casually behind his back, was now gripping the hilt of the sword at his waist tightly.

He was holding on too tightly.

The veins on the back of his hands bulged out, and his palms were covered in a layer of slippery cold sweat.

That was the body of a high-ranking cultivator, and when facing a top predator, it generated an instinctive fear that was completely beyond the control of the brain.

Song Que's eye twitched violently a few times.

Shame and anger surged to his head in an instant. He forcefully pried open his stiff fingers and loosened his hand from the hilt of the sword.

"This damned miasma of Broken Immortal Mountain even carries hallucinogenic toxins." Song Que gritted his teeth, trying to save face.

He drew his flying sword and, amidst a chilling red light, defiantly charged into the thick fog.