Five Years Later, Level 60!

Five years of time flowed by like a cascading spring, nourished by the immortal herbs of the Ice and Fire Yin Yang Well and the unsparing resource allocation of the Body Sect.

The valley housing the Body Sect remained hidden behind the Heaven Dou Imperial Palace; while it appeared tranquil on the surface, a surging vitality and increasingly formidable aura pulsed within.

Over these five years, thanks to the vast quantity of immortal herbs brought back by Zichuan and the confidence bolstered by Du Busi successfully breaking through to the 99th-level Limit Douluo, the entire sect entered a period of rapid development and exceptionally low-profile "hibernation."

The strength of the disciples improved across the board, and two more Titled Douluo elders were added to their ranks, marking a significant leap in the sect's overall power.

The source of all these changes—the Young Sect Master, who was pampered, respected, and occasionally "feared" by everyone in the sect—was currently engaged in a "daily workout" in a manner that made the new disciples question their reality.

"Whoosh—!"

On the mountain path at dawn, a black shadow moved like an arrow flying low to the ground, rushing from the foot of the mountain to the peak at astonishing speed, the resulting gale flattening the weeds along the roadside.

Reaching the summit without a moment's pause, he made a sharp turn and dove back down like a tiger descending the mountain, his speed actually three parts faster than when he had ascended!

His footsteps struck the stone stairs with a dull, rhythmic "thud-thud," sounding like the beating of an indefatigable war drum.

A newly admitted disciple with only one ring of cultivation, who had just emerged from the dormitory rubbing his sleepy eyes to prepare for morning lessons, was left dumbfounded by the sight of this "human-shaped beast."

He watched the black shadow traverse the mountain path at an inhuman speed, not even panting for breath, his eyes nearly popping out of their sockets.

"S-Senior Brother..." He tugged at an older disciple nearby who was slowly practicing his punches, asking with a stutter, "That... that Senior Brother... running like this every day, will he really... not run himself to death? Which lap is this already?"

The disciple practicing punches glanced at the tireless figure on the path, curled his lip with a look of numb indifference, and a hint of imperceptible awe and pride, scoffing:

"Run himself to death? Kid, you're new, right? That's our Young Sect Master! Run himself to death? Believe me, you could run yourself to death ten times over, and he'd still be able to run ten more laps."

"Young Sect Master?" The new disciple was stunned, then recalled the figure he had been repeatedly warned about upon entry—a figure almost deified.

"Is, is that the one with the Dual Heart Martial Soul, who at twelve years old..."

"Yes, that's the one," the older disciple interrupted, his tone complex.

"Two hearts, ever heard of that? That stamina and recovery speed are simply incomparable to a normal person. See that? That's just the warm-up. Just wait, there's more exciting stuff coming later."

As if to verify his words, the figure sprinting on the path suddenly turned, and with a few leaps, arrived beneath a waterfall deep in the valley.

The waterfall was dozens of meters high, the water rushing violently and crashing into the deep pool below with a thunderous roar.

The figure appeared.

He was a black-haired youth nearly one meter eighty-five tall, wearing a simple black training suit, his muscles flowing like a cheetah's, yet not appearing overly bulky.

Without hesitation, he stripped off his top, revealing a sturdy, iron-cast upper body, and stepped into the waterfall, right into the violent torrent capable of shattering rock.

He settled into a stable horse stance, letting the ten-thousand-jin water pressure hammer his head, shoulders, and back, yet his form remained as immovable as an ancient pine rooted to a cliff!

Not only that, he actually began to slowly raise his arms and practice his punches within the waterfall!

Every punch thrown seemed as if it would pierce through the cascading water, the force of his strikes briefly pushing the flow away with dull, explosive sonic booms!

"This... this..." The new disciple felt his scalp tingle, his legs turning to jelly.

The impact of that waterfall was terrifying just to look at, yet the Young Sect Master was practicing punches inside it?

And without using soul power for protection? Was his body made of iron?

"You'll get used to it," the older disciple said, having stopped his practice and crossing his arms to watch the show, clicking his tongue.

"Our Young Sect Master is a human-shaped beast—no, a human-shaped tyrannosaurus among beasts. Competing with him? You're just asking for trouble. Watch, once he finishes, he's bound to find someone to 'spar' with."

Sure enough, about an hour later, the youth under the waterfall let out a long roar that shook the mountains and forests, momentarily drowning out the thunderous roar of the water.

He kicked off the ground and shot upward against the waterfall, sending spray flying everywhere, landing steadily on the bank.

He shook his wet, short black hair, sending droplets scattering, revealing a face with sword-like brows and star-bright eyes. The childishness had faded, replaced by a spirited, heroic look mixed with a hint of lazy amusement. It was twelve-year-old Zichuan.

Five years had passed, and he had developed rapidly; the vigorous blood and vitality brought by his two hearts made his physique far exceed that of his peers, making him look like a youth of seventeen or eighteen.

His muscles were well-proportioned and powerful, his skin a healthy wheat color, and his eyes held a hidden brilliance when they opened and closed, radiating authority. Just standing there, he possessed an aura as deep and steady as an abyss, yet strangely mixed with the vibrant, youthful energy unique to his age.

"Refreshing!" Zichuan stretched his neck, which cracked audibly, feeling his blood flowing smoothly and his energy so abundant he had nowhere to vent it.

His gaze swept across the training grounds and landed on a familiar figure.

That person was also dressed in tight training gear with a tall, upright build. He looked three or four years older than Zichuan, and most striking was his shock of white, spiked hair, with tiny silver-white electric snakes flickering at the tips.

He had a handsome face, his brows and eyes carrying an innate, wild arrogance. He was watching Zichuan with his arms crossed, his eyes burning with fighting spirit.

It was Long Aotian! Five years had passed, he was now fifteen, and his cultivation had reached a shocking level 58!

After multiple tempering sessions and the accumulation of resources, his martial soul skin had long since evolved into the "Jade Gold True Body," granting him terrifying defensive power and attacks imbued with lightning attributes; he was undoubtedly one of the leading figures of the Body Sect's younger generation.

"Come, fight!"

The two locked eyes, everything understood in their silent rapport.

Before the words had even faded, the two collided like a pair of maddened bulls!

"Boom!"

No soul skills were used, no martial souls were released—this was a pure collision of flesh and blood!

Their fists and feet struck each other with a dull, drum-like roar, and a shockwave exploded from the center of their clash, kicking up dust from the ground.

Long Aotian's punches were like thunder, carrying wisps of electricity; his speed was extreme, his power fierce. His skin took on a jade-like luster, with faint golden patterns flowing beneath, his defense astonishing.

As for Zichuan's response, it was even simpler, more direct, and more domineering! He did not dodge or evade, meeting fist with fist and leg with leg!

His punches, while appearing less swift or flashy than Long Aotian's, were as heavy as mountains, each strike containing explosive power.

What was even more terrifying was his defense; Long Aotian's punches, capable of splitting monuments and shattering stones, struck him with the sound of clashing metal, yet Zichuan's form only swayed slightly, not even leaving a white mark!