After being tempered by the tribulation lightning, his Primordial Spirit had grown powerful once again. Every tribulation was both a calamity and a rare opportunity for advancement for a cultivator. If they failed, they would be doomed; if they succeeded, their strength would soar.
The reason Nascent Soul Cultivators were far stronger than Golden Core Cultivators was that ordinary Nascent Soul Cultivators and Nascent Soul body cultivators possessed not only greater magical power and physical strength, but also Primordial Spirits far stronger than those of Golden Core Cultivators.
Lu Xiaotian's Primordial Spirit had already been exceptionally powerful. Though the boost from enduring this lightning tribulation was smaller than when he had first formed his Nascent Soul, it had still taken him a step further, like climbing a hundred-foot pole. When Lu Xiaotian sent out his Primordial Spirit, the distance it could probe had increased by nearly a quarter. Compared with the gradual accumulation of ordinary cultivation, this was a meteoric leap.
Gurgle. His meridians and flesh trembled in waves.
The blood in his body continually turned to mist, then was absorbed by his muscles, meridians, and bones. After absorbing the blood mist, his body slowly became translucent, then expelled thread after thread of foul-smelling black liquid.
Lu Xiaotian sat like this for several days. Only after the repeated tempering process within his body had ended did he slowly open his eyes. He spread his hand and took out a sharp, pill-refined magical weapon: a long saber. Gripping it, he slashed directly across his body. Not even a white mark remained.
With a thought, Lu Xiaotian switched to his Misty Flying Sword and slashed his palm, leaving a white line that soon vanished.
Lu Xiaotian gradually increased the magical power he fed into it, until it matched what he would normally