"All right..." Xu Taiping nodded weakly, then swallowed hard and began making the Rusty Sword fly toward the cliff ahead, little by little, with the ship-ballast iron hanging from it.
This time, he really had overestimated himself and underestimated the harm that pressure on his divine soul would do to him.
He did not know that ordinary Sword Cultivators often needed decades to increase the weight bit by bit.
But such was his nature: once he decided to do something, he would never give up halfway. At least, while he remained conscious, he did not want to give up.
A little higher.
Still manageable. A little higher.
Keep going...
At that moment, he seemed to have returned to the days when he first soaked in Bone-Washing Marrow-Cleansing Soup to practice the Remnant Sunset Scripture. Whenever the pain nearly made him give up, he would tell himself to hold on just a little longer.
Strangely, though, whenever he felt he was about to faint, a wisp of indescribably clear, ethereal energy would well up from the apertures in his body that had undergone the Aperture-Pressing Method, briefly drawing his consciousness back from the brink.
Could the Flame Emperor Furnace Art also... also suppress Soul Weeping?
Xu Taiping thought with some delighted surprise.
But before he could consider it further, a buzzing sounded in his mind again, while dizziness and suffocation surged over him once more like a tide.
Yet precisely because of that wisp of clear, ethereal energy flowing from his apertures, he could not lose consciousness, making his perception of the Pain of Soul Weeping all the sharper.
For a time, the Flame Emperor Furnace Art had become a double-edged sword for Xu Taiping.
"Senior Brother, should we call Taiping down?"
Watching Xu Taiping's body tremble ever more violently