Previously, congealed blood had blocked his chest, making it feel as though ten thousand arrows had pierced through it. The pain was excruciating, and whenever it affected his Qi Meridian, he would cough from time to time.
Now, although he could not cultivate the Circulating Star God Breathing Technique, he had used the opportunity of breathing exercises to expel all the congealed blood from his body. The pain from the injury in his chest had greatly eased.
Relying on the human body's natural healing ability, with one or two medicinal herbs to assist him, he would most likely recover within three to five days.
Yet the reality was that Meng Zhao could not even find where his next meal would come from, much less obtain medicinal herbs.
After all, at this very moment, he was no longer the once omnipotent Dragon King Meng. Having lost the heaven-piercing, earth-penetrating martial arts he had taken such pride in, he was merely an ordinary man.
What cast an even darker shadow over Meng Zhao's heart was the confirmation that this place was a land where all laws were extinguished—and they were extinguished so thoroughly that not even the slightest crack remained.
Being utterly unable to cultivate the martial arts of the Divine Land meant that Meng Zhao's plan to quickly regain extraordinary power and then rise to the pinnacle of this world had no path forward.
No matter how many beautiful futures he envisioned, none could be realized. They could only remain wishful fantasies.
Still, Meng Zhao did not truly lose heart or have his spirit utterly crushed.
For one thing, he did not believe that losing martial arts meant he could no longer rise to greatness. Perhaps this place was simply an ultra-low martial world. The retired soldiers in the village could