Over-training

The crowd watched with rapt attention, not daring to even blink.

They knew Master Hong was about to impart his ultimate technique.

The next moment, Hong Yuan moved.

He shook his arms violently, and the eighteen iron rings instantly tightened, emitting a teeth-grinding sound of clashing metal!

He sank his hips and stomped his feet, making the very ground of the martial hall tremble!

"Overlord Breaks the River!"

A roar erupted like a thunderclap.

Hong Yuan's arms danced in a wild, crisscrossing blur, his fists striking out like iron urns.

Every time those sandbag-sized fists hammered forward.

They were accompanied by violent gusts of wind that surged upward.

The eighteen iron rings transformed into streaks of ferocious, pitch-black lightning as his arms moved!

The air was brutally torn and compressed, producing the "crackling" sound of sonic booms!

The overflowing force blew the disciples' robes until they snapped, making it difficult for them to even stand steady!

The onlookers felt as if an ancient overlord had appeared before them, wielding twin axes to cleave a great river in two!

The terrifying momentum, unstoppable and capable of shattering metal and stone, turned many of the disciples pale.

Against such an onslaught, let alone a direct confrontation, even a slight graze from the fist wind would peel away layers of flesh.

Lin Qing watched, mesmerized, his breath held involuntarily.

He clearly sensed that this move, Overlord Breaks the River, had pushed the fierce and violent nature of the Iron Thread Fist to its absolute limit!

When practiced to a high level, these arms wrapped in iron rings were comparable to divine weapons, indestructible and peerless.

Its power was in no way inferior to those experts who specialized in external hard-body cultivation!

Hong Yuan finished the demonstration and stood still, his breathing steady.

It was as if the earth-shattering display from a moment ago had been a mere hallucination.

Yet, the heart-palpitating pressure lingering in the air refused to dissipate.

The disciples remained immersed in shock, silent as the grave.

Just then.

A figure stepped out from the crowd.

It was Zhang Shun!

Unlike his usual self, Zhang Shun's eyes were sharp, his blood and qi surging; he had clearly adjusted his state to its peak.

He took a deep breath and shook his arms!

"Clang, clang, clang—!"

The iron rings on his arms slid down in sequence, emitting crisp, ringing sounds.

Though he lacked the effortless grace of Hong Yuan, his momentum was still extraordinary.

Recalling the force and the indomitable, tyrannical intent Hong Yuan had just displayed.

He took a sudden step forward, the muscles in his arms bulging, and struck out fiercely!

"Ha!"

Following suit, Zhang Shun unleashed Overlord Breaks the River, his fist wind whistling.

Though far less terrifying than Hong Yuan's, the iron rings whistled as his arms moved, even faintly carrying the sound of wind and thunder.

With his power concentrated, he had remarkably captured a few drops of the essence of Overlord Breaks the River!

Hong Yuan nodded slightly as he watched.

The moment Zhang Shun finished the move and his momentum reached its peak, the blood and qi throughout his body roared and boiled.

His bones emitted a faint crackling sound, his blood and qi flowed like liquid mercury beneath his skin, and an aura far more robust and solid than that of the Tendon Opening Realm suddenly erupted!

Bone Forging Realm, the third barrier!

Zhang Shun had, in the process of observing the killing move and practicing the fist technique.

Broken through the bottleneck that had plagued him for so long in one fell swoop.

He had stepped into the third stage of martial arts.

A look of satisfaction flashed in Hong Yuan's eyes; he nodded slightly and announced in a clear voice, "Zhang Shun possesses remarkable talent and bone structure, and has been diligent. He has been in the martial hall for three years, and today, he has broken through to the Bone Forging Realm."

"Effective immediately, he is accepted as the fourth inner disciple of my Iron Thread Fist Martial Hall!"

As soon as these words were spoken, the entire hall erupted in an uproar!

An inner disciple was a true core member of the martial hall, one who could receive personal instruction from the master and enjoy greater resources and higher status.

The gazes everyone cast toward Zhang Shun were instantly filled with immense envy and awe.

"Congratulations, Senior Brother Zhang!"

"Congratulations on your breakthrough, Senior Brother Zhang!"

Words of congratulation rose and fell in succession.

Lin Qing also stepped forward, genuinely happy for his senior brother, and cupped his fists: "Congratulations, Brother Shun—no, congratulations, Senior Brother Zhang!"

However, after his breakthrough, Zhang Shun's temperament seemed to have undergone a subtle change.

Although there was still a smile on his face, that smile lacked the easygoing nature of the past.

It held a bit more of the reserve that belonged to an inner-sect disciple.

Facing Lin Qing's congratulations, he merely nodded indifferently.

Soon, Zhang Shun was surrounded by several other inner-sect senior brothers who had heard the news, chatting and laughing, forming a new small circle.

They then took Zhang Shun into the inner courtyard.

Leaving the outer-sect disciples, including Lin Qing, behind.

Naturally and effectively isolating them.

Lin Qing stood where he was, watching Zhang Shun, who was surrounded by the crowd and looking quite high-spirited.

There was not much jealousy in his heart, only a sense of realization.

On the path of martial arts, every step forward leads to a different world.

Status, position, and social circles change quietly along with it.

The Brother Shun who used to drink and call him brother in the past.

Was now a Senior Brother Zhang who required one to look up to him.

Inside the martial arts hall.

Ever since Zhang Shun broke through to the Bone Forging Realm and was personally announced by Hong Yuan as an inner-sect disciple, the atmosphere within the hall had quietly changed.

Various emotions sprouted and fermented in the hearts of the young disciples, transforming into even more arduous training.

Among them, Wang Cheng, a man of fisherman origins known for his perseverance and ruthlessness, was the most prominent.

Lin Qing watched almost every day how Wang Cheng pushed himself to the limit.

Every day before dawn, when he arrived at the hall, Wang Cheng had already been standing at the Iron-Clad Wooden Post in the corner of the training ground for a long time, sweat soaking a circle into the ground beneath his feet.

During the day, when everyone practiced boxing together, he was meticulous, striving for perfection in every movement as if he did not know the meaning of fatigue.

By evening, as other disciples left one after another, the vast training ground was often left with only him, still repeatedly striking the Iron-Clad Wooden Post or practicing the Twelve Bridge Hands alone, until the departing senior brothers forcibly drove him away.

Only then would he drag his nearly shattered body away in silence.

Master Hong Yuan, seeing his astonishing perseverance, had once personally given him some pointers, but unfortunately, while Wang Cheng's natural aptitude was passable, his comprehension was average, and he still had to rely on slow, grinding effort to accumulate understanding.

His silence and tenacity created an invisible pressure among the disciples and also earned him some admiration.

Lin Qing sighed inwardly.

This man's diligence far exceeded that of ordinary people; he was a truly ruthless person.

He seemed to treat himself as a piece of stubborn iron, wanting to use endless sweat and pain to hammer himself into steel.

However, the path of martial arts.

Beyond perseverance.

Demands talent, foundation, and a balance between tension and relaxation.

Lin Qing had also tried this method of training.

He discovered that his body simply could not withstand it.

Even with the assistance of medicinal powders and oils, the human body always requires rest.

Therefore, he did not compete for a moment's pride.

One morning a few days later.

A shocking piece of news exploded within the martial arts hall.

Wang Cheng was dead.

He did not die from a vendetta, nor did he die from an accident.

He died from overtraining, his blood and energy completely depleted.

On his way home late last night, he died suddenly in a dark alley not far from his house.

It was not until the early morning that he was discovered by an early-rising night watchman.

His body had already stiffened.

The martial arts hall fell into a sudden, deathly silence.

Nothing remained but an indescribable sense of oppression.

The figure who was still sweating like rain and looking so stubborn just yesterday.

Had vanished just like that, without a sound.