Achieving physical sainthood begins with the Iron Shirt technique!

Three cyan wind blades, each about a foot long, tore through the heavy rain curtain, heading straight for Li Laosi's rough throat.

Li Laosi didn't step back an inch with his right foot. He reached down with his left hand, grabbed the half-slaughtered carcass of the long-horned venomous python that he had just crushed in the mud, and held it in front of him.

"Pfft! Pfft! Pfft!"

Sharp wind blades sliced ​​into the thick python flesh and its coarse, hard scales. Large clumps of foul-smelling, dark green demon blood mixed with fragments exploded in the air above the muddy pit.

The flying bits of flesh blocked the blue-robed monk's view from the tree trunk.

Li Laosi rushed out, stepping over the flying chunks of meat.

The lingering airflow from the wind blades scraped across his neck and arms. The sharp blades cut seven or eight outward-curving blood grooves into Li Laosi's exposed flesh, but the butcher ignored them completely, his right thigh muscles taut with rage.

The iron boots stomped heavily on a section of blackened, dead tree root, snapping the thick root in two on the spot.

His burly body soared into the air, and his right fist came straight up from below, striking the center of the blue-robed cultivator's chin.

"Snap!"

The ear-piercing sound of bones cracking echoed through the muddy pond.

The blue-robed monk's jawbone shattered into dozens of pieces, with blood gushing out along with seven or eight molars.

The immortal master let out a miserable howl, and most of his body fell headfirst from the ancient tree that was as thick as a person's embrace, crashing face up into the stinking ditch that was bubbling with green foam.

Seven or eight zhang behind the swamp, two other Qi Refining cultivators who were about to cast spells saw their leader punched into the mud, his liver and gallbladder completely ruptured.

Ignoring their companion who had fallen into the mud, and without recalling the defensive talisman pen that had fallen to the ground, the two turned and plunged into the depths of the miasma forest swirling with green mist, fleeing for their lives.

The rain was still pouring down.

Hundreds of mortal miners, their necks bound by broken black iron chains, sat blankly in the middle of a muddy pond.

No one shouted or cheered.

Beside the mud pit, an old miner with gray hair knelt in the sewage, pounding his thighs with his hands and weeping loudly.

"You've made a huge mistake!"

The old miner's sore finger jabbed straight at Li Laosi's nose:

"You've broken the Immortal Master's big hand! You've struck the high and mighty Immortal Cultivator! The Lord of the City Lord's Mansion is going to unleash ten thousand swords! We're all going to have our life-saving tendons pulled out, and we're all going to be locked up to be sacrificed to the Great Banner with our blood!"

Several miners, still wearing tattered clothes, knelt down in the filthy mud and banged their heads against the rotten bluestone in the direction the two cultivators had fled.

"Great Immortal, have mercy! We don't know this rough barbarian!"

"You jinx from outlying areas, stay away from us!"

Li Laosi stood in the mud, holding a boning and butchering knife stained with the blood of the blue-robed monk's chin.

He looked down at his compatriots in the mud, their backs broken by the whips and rules of the Immortal Sect. Decades of illegal mining and taxes had weighed on them; their chains had been cut in two, yet they still dared not straighten even half their backs.

The massive heart inside his chest, forcibly forced open by the extreme blood, violently slammed against his ribs, the loud thud of blood shaking his ears.

Li Laosi burst into wild laughter.

A harsh, desolate laugh, tinged with hostility, cut through the heavy rain.

He used all his strength in his right arm to slam the bladed butcher knife down heavily.

"Snapped!"

The butcher's knife plunged straight into the black mud pit between the knees of a young miner in his early twenties.

Li Laosi grabbed his patched linen coat with his left hand and ripped it open from the collar down to his navel.

His body, covered in dark purple welts from the old mine's iron chains and whip marks, was exposed under the cold rain, his skin rough and calloused from the wilderness.

He opened his mouth wide and roared at the hundreds of people kneeling in the mud:

"You left the knife on the ground here! Pull it out and cut my head off right now!"

Li Laosi jabbed his Adam's apple so hard it made a loud thud:

"Take my head and go to the top of that grand staircase in the inner city to claim your reward! Go kowtow three times to those gentlemen and ask the high and mighty immortals if they'll really spare your lives or drive you all into that snake pit as bait!"

The young miner kneeling beside the knife handle stopped trembling.

He glanced at the half-piece of a boning knife stuck between his legs.

Then he turned to look at the filthy ditch less than three steps away from his feet.

The blue-robed cultivator's face was mostly submerged in mud, his jawbone completely gone, and bright red, pasty blood foam kept gushing from his mouth as he rolled around and groaned in the stinking mud—the once high and mighty immortal cultivator had now been beaten into a lump of raw meat ready to be slaughtered.

The cold earth in the young miner's chest, which had been covered in ashes for over a decade, was torn open with a gaping wound.

His hands trembled uncontrollably. Instead of picking up the butcher knife on the ground, he plunged his palms into the bloody, rotten pit and grabbed an iron spear that had fallen from the waist of a guard from the Immortal City.

His ten fingers were stuck in the cold iron spear shaft.

……

The core area of ​​Duanxian Mountain is characterized by deep valleys and caves.

Within the fifteen-zhang-long sacred land, forged from the 30,000-jin town road stele.

Lu Chen stood before the dark cave entrance, clutching the storage jade pouch he had just torn from the belt of Song Que, the outer sect steward of the Qingxiao Sword Sect.

Without the induction of true essence and spiritual sense, it is impossible to decipher the patterns on this magical artifact using the methods of the cultivation world.

Lu Chen cupped the bag of spirit jade covered in dark patterns in his large hand.

The five fingers apply brute force directly inward.

"Click!"

The spirit jade shattered into several large pieces, and the storage space cracked directly.

A large amount of chaotic spatial energy surged outward from the tiny opening, threatening to cut and grind all the spiritual herbs and stones inside into nothingness.

Lu Chen pressed forward with pure Yang energy from his palm without reservation. The scalding pure crimson blood energy of the twelve layers of "Iron Shirt" covered the outside of the cracked space, forcefully suppressing the spreading undercurrents.

The large pile of stored goods slid directly onto the rough rock surface.

Lu Chen reached into the pile of steaming objects and pulled out a handful of three century-old blood ginsengs with thick roots and red whiskers.

He stuffed three whole ginseng roots into his mouth at the same time and chewed them forcefully with his teeth.

Bitter fluid flowed down his throat.

The physical furnace beneath his chest was running at full speed, grinding the root medicinal fibers to shreds and burning away the fervent impurities and poisons in the elixir. The remaining pure blood-activating properties flowed into his meridians, quickly replenishing the brute strength lost in the previous battles.

In the corner of the rock face.

Wrapped in a thick wolfskin sack, A-Nan sat leaning against the rough stone slab.

The little girl has completely absorbed all the medicinal power of that century-old blood marrow vine into the joints of her limbs.

Beneath the tender, newly formed skin, the bones, warm and smooth as jade, continuously emitted crisp, rapid, resonant vibrations—the subtle, crisp sounds emanating from the young body and echoing into the cavern space.

The white, cloudy film covering her eyelids hadn't faded, and she couldn't see anything at all.

Deep within my mind, however, I could clearly picture the outlines of several massive, chaotic air currents in the distant sky.

A-Nan raised her little hand and tightly grasped the bottom half of Lu Chenma's short shirt.

The voice was extremely urgent:

"Lu Chen, the air in the sky is completely chaotic; a huge fire is about to crash down."