Ten Layers of Mortal Iron Break the Limit!

Scalding Qilin True Blood poured down his throat and into his stomach.

That was not blood at all—it was utterly boiling magma. Everywhere it passed, the meridians inside Lu Chen's body shattered inch by inch. His internal organs nearly burst apart from the violent spiritual energy.

Mortals had no spiritual roots and could not withstand the energy of such a high-level exotic beast. This was an ironclad rule carved into the laws of the Nine Provinces Immortal Alliance.

But the Ultimate Dao Furnace did not follow rules.

The ancient primordial vitality slumbering in the deepest reaches of his flesh and blood completely awakened under the stimulation of that immense energy. With an utterly tyrannical force, it tore all that azure spiritual energy to pieces. There was no need for gentle guidance, no need for spiritual meridians to circulate it. The spiritual energy was brutally ground into the purest essence of flesh and blood, then forcibly packed into Lu Chen's shattered meridians.

His meridians shattered. Reformed. Shattered again. Reformed again.

An unimaginable, inhuman agony crashed down upon him. Lu Chen clenched his teeth until they creaked, a low growl like a beast driven into a corner rumbling from his throat.

In his mind, that vulgar external martial art manual he had traded half a moldy, stale steamed bun for was undergoing earth-shaking changes.

Iron Cloth Shirt, which had once been nothing more than a mundane technique for toughening the skin and flesh enough to withstand a few lashes, could at best make a mortal thick-skinned after a lifetime of practice.

Now, primordial vitality surged straight through it.

That crude circulation method was forcibly dismantled, twisted, and reconstructed by this domineering power. Ordinary standing stances and horse stances became a heaven-devouring furnace that seized the creation of heaven and earth. A mortal's flesh-and-blood body was treated as an anvil for tempering an ultimate Dao body.

Iron Cloth Shirt began to evolve on its own within Lu Chen, whirling madly.

"Gulp."

Lu Chen's ten fingers dug fiercely into the qilin's scales as he swallowed another huge mouthful of True Blood.

The skin over his body began to mutate at a visible rate. A faint iron-gray sheen rapidly spread from his neck across his entire body. The bone-deep wounds carved by sword energy twisted with fresh flesh as the iron-gray glow flowed over them, forcibly sealing shut within a few breaths.

The surrounding temperature suddenly soared.

Rain falling from the sky and mud splashing through the alley instantly evaporated into vast clouds of white mist the moment they touched his blazing skin. The mist enveloped him and the Azure-Water Qilin's enormous body.

A dense series of cracks burst from between his bones.

Crackle! Pop!

That was the sound of his marrow being forcibly elevated.

First layer!

His once-shriveled muscle fibers began to swell, his skin stretching taut to its limit.

Third layer!

The iron-gray sheen grew increasingly dense, and his skin even took on a metallic texture.

Seventh layer!

Lu Chen's body visibly grew taller and broader. Thick tendons bulged one after another across his back, interweaving into a terrifying net of flesh. The muddy ground beneath his feet could not bear the increase in weight at all. His feet sank deeply into the earth, crushing even the bluestone slabs below into powder.

In midair not far away.

Li Changfeng and Wang Xuan had just been watching as though enjoying a show. To them, a spirit beast eating a mortal was no more than a snack between meals.

Then the enormous cloud of white mist rose below, and the qilin's shrill cries abruptly stopped.

The mockery on Li Changfeng's face froze.

He suddenly leaned forward, his jade thumb ring clenched so tightly his fingers turned white, staring fixedly at the ruins where spiritual energy had fallen into utter chaos. That high-level juvenile beast so favored by the elder, that azure guardian spirit beast of the sect—its enormous body was actually convulsing violently.

And the mortal clinging to its throat had not only failed to burst apart from the violent True Blood, the vitality and blood in his body were instead soaring madly.

"That's impossible!" Wang Xuan cried out, fumbling as he drew half his flying sword. "A mortal who swallowed a spirit beast's True Blood should have turned into a puddle of blood by now!"

Li Changfeng roared in fury, "You brazen mortal cur! You dare injure my sect's spirit beast! I'll extract your soul and refine your spirit, then throw you into the sect furnace to burn for a hundred years!"

He did not dare wait any longer. His hands immediately formed rapid seals before his chest. Complex spell marks flowed between his ten fingers as he swiftly chanted an incantation.

Wang Xuan came to his senses as well and began forming seals and chanting.

When cultivators cast spells, they drew upon the spiritual energy of heaven and earth.

Two water arrows as thick as an adult man's thigh rapidly formed in midair. Icy spiritual light flowed over their surfaces, their sharp arrowheads aimed directly at Lu Chen in the ruins below.

"Die!" Li Changfeng snapped, bringing his joined fingers down viciously.

The two Water Arrow spells shrieked as they tore through the air, shooting toward Lu Chen's completely unguarded back.

Lu Chen was still swallowing mouthful after mouthful of qilin blood. He did not turn around.

Bang! Bang!

Two piercing, crisp blasts exploded through the muddy alley.

There was no spray of flesh and blood. No dull sound of a spell piercing a body.

When the water arrows struck Lu Chen's iron-gray back, the sound was like metal crashing violently against stone.

The instant the arrowheads touched that layer of iron-like skin, their enormous force was directly deflected. They failed to leave even a white mark on his flesh.

The Water Arrow spells, condensed from pure spiritual energy and powerful enough to pierce city walls, burst apart into countless fine droplets that splashed down into the mud pit.

Li Changfeng sucked in a cold breath. Still holding his seal and pressing downward, he froze in midair.

Wang Xuan's mouth hung open, his hands still poised before his chest. Even the next line of his incantation stuck in his throat.

That was an offensive spell of mid-stage Qi Refinement! It had hit a mortal and failed to even break his skin?

In the filthy mud pit.

Steward Zhao had just struggled to his feet, ready to watch that trash who had defied him get riddled by spells.

Hearing the commotion, he rubbed his eyes, then rubbed them hard again.

That mortal had not only survived—he had not even lost a single strand of hair.

Steward Zhao's legs shook violently, urine running down his trousers into the muddy water.

"Damn it... I must be hallucinating. How could a mortal possibly withstand immortal arts head-on?"

Within the ruins.

The Azure-Water Qilin's struggles finally ceased.

Its azure scales had turned dim and lusterless. Its once-powerful limbs shriveled away, losing every trace of strength.

The arrogant savagery in its beast eyes was gone. In its place was utter terror. Until its death, it could not understand why a mortal with no cultivation possessed a terrifying black hole within his body that could drain away all its life force.

The last drop of its essence blood was drained dry.

Lu Chen released his bite.

He slowly rose to his feet. Scorching crimson steam rose from the surface of his iron-gray skin.

"Tenth layer, Mortal Iron Great Perfection!"

A roar utterly unlike any human sound exploded from his chest, the sound waves even blasting apart the surrounding white mist.

He raised his right foot. Without the slightest fluctuation of spiritual energy, relying solely on the weight of his fleshly body, he stomped heavily onto the Azure-Water Qilin's head.

The high-level exotic beast that had been so arrogant above the immortal city just moments ago, treating mortals as food.

Crack!

The force of ten thousand catties erupted.

The spirit beast's skull, as hard as a magical artifact, was crushed to pieces beneath his foot. Bone fragments and brain matter exploded into the muddy water.

A shriveled corpse lay sprawled in the middle of the muddy alley, its death miserable beyond measure.

A moment ago, it had been trampling mortals to death beneath its hooves. Now, it had become a mortal's stepping stone.

Li Changfeng's face turned completely livid.

A precious guardian spirit beast had been drained of blood and had its skull crushed by a mortal right before his eyes.

He would not be able to answer for this upon returning to the sect. He might not even keep his status as an outer disciple.

"I don't care what wicked heretical path you practiced! Mere mortal bones—die!"

Li Changfeng's eyes were bloodshot as he slapped the storage pouch at his waist.

A cyan lower-grade flying sword shot out with a howl. The sword body hummed, its sharp sword radiance slicing tiny cracks into the surrounding air. This was a true magical treasure, nothing like those Water Arrow spells from before.

"Go!"

Li Changfeng shouted, and the flying sword transformed into a streak of cyan cold light, trailing a long fiery tail as it shot straight for Lu Chen's head. It was so fast that mortals could not even see its trajectory.

Lu Chen stood where he was.

Muddy water ran down the contours of his knotted muscles.

He slowly turned his head. His eyes were crimson, and within his pupils was reflected the cold radiance of the flying sword rapidly swelling larger.

He did not retreat. He made no move to evade.

Facing the sword energy that could easily slice through steel, Lu Chen directly extended one rough, massive hand.

His five fingers spread wide as he grabbed at the flying sword streaking through the air.

Screech—!

The incomparably sharp blade slammed viciously into Lu Chen's palm.

No blood splashed.

The flying sword scraped violently against his palm, the piercing grind of metal against metal making teeth ache. Great showers of sparks erupted from between his fingers and scattered in every direction.

The ground beneath Lu Chen's feet collapsed and sank again from the immense impact, yet he stood as steady as Mount Tai, his arm not bending in the slightest.

His five iron-gray fingers suddenly clenched inward.

He squeezed hard.

Under the horrified gazes of the cultivators above.

That lower-grade flying sword, forged from cold iron and supposedly capable of cutting through anything, was squeezed so severely out of shape that it let out an ear-piercing wail.