Yang Jing did not stop cultivating. He pushed forward with the cultivation process of the Heavenly Imperial Scripture once more.
All the grueling transformations and painful tempering today were meant to establish the finest, firmest scriptural roots of the Martial Path.
The deeper, purer, and steadier those roots grew, the more luxuriant, towering, and undying the branches and leaves of his Great Dao would become.
This process of reshaping his origin and rooting himself in the supreme Great Dao was destined to be strewn with thorns, yet Yang Jing felt not the slightest urge to retreat.
Without his master's legacy, he could hardly have touched a supreme scripture that stood above all other arts, much less climbed to the pinnacle of the Great Dao.
Since fortune had granted him one of the world's finest supreme scriptures and the chance to reshape his martial foundation, how could he lightly abandon it over passing pain or danger?
The more profound and difficult this scripture proved, the more it demonstrated its worth-and the more it deserved every ounce of his focus, perseverance, and sweat as he honed it and cultivated its depths.
Moreover, ever since entering Pingtian Academy, a sacred martial land teeming with prodigies and powerful experts, an invisible pressure had lingered in his heart, constantly whipping him onward, allowing him neither slackness nor rest.
Even the Outer Academy harbored countless gifted talents, each with their own legacies and hidden trump cards.
The prodigies of the Inner Courtyard and Upper Academy possessed even deeper reserves, higher cultivation realms, and heaven-defying combat strength.
The law of the weak becoming prey to the strong, with strength reigning supreme, was displayed to its fullest in the Sacred Academy.
During this time, he had frequently met with Xiao Nu, Jiang Yun, and Si Jiawen, and learned