In the inner courtyard's basement, Chen Tie practiced the Fierce Tiger Fist alone, once, ten times, a hundred times, over and over.
Sweat kept pouring out, soaking his clothes before the scorching blood and Qi within his body dried them, leaving layer upon layer of salt on his skin.
A tearing ache spread through his muscles, his sinews and bones felt as though steel wires were pulling at them, and blood and Qi surged through his meridians. Exhaustion kept washing over him, but his fixation remained unchanged.
Chen Tie analyzed the situation.
Observing the giant tiger really does let me progress faster, but with my aptitude, comprehending Martial Dao True Intent is actually extremely difficult.
Without Proficiency at my disposal, I could never have reached Skin Refining in those first three months.
In that case, the direction is already clear. All I need to do is cultivate the Fierce Tiger Fist to perfection, and Martial Dao True Intent will follow naturally, like water flowing into a channel!
Chen Tie closed his eyes, replaying scenes from his past life-and-death battles: taut nerves during confrontations, the resolve to stake his life in combat, the ferocity of beasts on the hunt, the instant of defeat and death.
He kept pondering what made a fierce tiger. Its essence lay not in sharp claws or fangs, but in dominance, in slaughter, in choosing death over retreat, in crushing all living things and making every beast bow its head.
Chen Tie sank into a crouch, drawing all the blood and Qi throughout his body down into his waist and hips and locking his force within his spine, replicating a fierce tiger lying low and gathering strength.
He sprang into a pounce. Blood and Qi instantly coursed through all four limbs, and explosive force burst from his sinews and bones, replicating a fierce tiger pouncing to kill its prey.
He brought his force down in a cleaving strike, unifying the momentum of his entire body into one, his force heavy and ferocious, replicating a fierce tiger's bone-shattering killing blow.
After a day of grueling practice, Chen Tie's Fierce Tiger Fist underwent a transformation.
His blood and Qi flowed as he wished, and he could release or withdraw his force at will. Every move of the tiger fist was no longer a rigid technique, but carried its own savage, murderous edge.
At some point, the giant tiger in the cage had stopped roaring.
Its eyes stared fixedly at Chen Tie as he practiced. Its former violence had subsided, and its body inside the cage was slightly tense, bearing a trace of unease.
The human before it seemed even more frightening now.
The next day, Chen Tie gained an insight. He stopped deliberately honing his moves and instead repeatedly tempered the force throughout his body.
Again and again, he sank down to gather strength, then unleashed his force in a burst, repeatedly honing the coordination between his blood and Qi and his sinews and bones.
Chen Tie felt he was only one step away, just a little short in his progress.
Though his force was fluid, it still had gaps. His gathering of strength was not deep enough, his bursts were not pure enough, and slight disconnects remained between his blood and Qi and his sinews and bones.
After half a day of tempering, those minute flaws were smoothed away one by one.
[Fierce Tiger Fist Perfection (1/400)] [Fierce Tiger Stance Art Perfection (67/400)]
Humm-
His sinews and bones thundered into resonance, and scorching blood and Qi surged throughout his body. An intangible will that governed all his force sprouted naturally within his flesh!
"So this is Martial Dao True Intent!"
Chen Tie sank into a crouch, like a fierce tiger lying low in the grass, his sinews and bones taut, his force held inward, without the slightest hint of sharpness showing.
His rear leg drove hard against the ground. Power traveled upward from his legs, his spine trembled joint by joint, his waist and hips twisted, and his blood and Qi rushed along his skeletal frame into his right fist.
Martial Dao True Intent flowed through his entire body like an invisible rope, twisting the force scattered throughout him tightly into an unstoppable torrent, pure and condensed, without the slightest waste.
His fist lunged forward, violently compressing the air with a deep, rushing howl.
The naked eye could not perceive true intent, but as it surged forward with his fist, the faint roar of a tiger could actually be heard.
Surprise appeared on Chen Tie's face. He could clearly feel that besides making his force more concentrated, this true intent could also intimidate the mind.
If an opponent received this strike, anyone without a firm will would surely have their mind shaken and their blood and Qi involuntarily thrown into disorder.
Inside the iron cage, the giant striped tiger, which had been curled up on the ground, violently shuddered the instant Chen Tie unleashed his punch.
It watched the fist come howling forth, the immense force twisted into a single strand bearing down upon it with a soul-shaking presence. The caged tiger's pupils narrowed into thin slits, and a stifled whimper escaped its throat.
Its massive body instinctively shrank backward, its four limbs clutching the ground tightly, its paws scraping out piercing sounds.
Chen Tie slowly withdrew his fist and glanced at the iron cage. The tiger was now huddled in a corner.
At noon, Chen Tie planned to go out and relax for a while. As he passed the platform, he faintly heard roaring from the right.
"What exactly is that thing?"
Unable to contain his curiosity, Chen Tie picked up a torch and headed to the right.
Zhang Long had previously said this place held the martial hall's secret, the source of its secret medicine.
The deeper he went, the clearer the roaring became.
It was no longer a distant, muffled noise, but layers of fragmented roars pressed close against the darkness.
After he walked several dozen zhang, the path ended. Looking toward the source of the roaring, he saw a pitch-black hole in the ground.
The opening was black as ink. The distorted roars within were now a chaotic clamor, yet carried an orderly rhythm.
They were neither the roars of a fierce tiger nor the growls of ordinary wild beasts. The sounds were dull and dry.
Chen Tie held up his torch and peered down. The light spilled downward, illuminating the entire bottom of the pit.
At the bottom was a great mass of twisted, piled flesh, slowly moving.
The mass of flesh was enormous, its dark red tissues tangled and knotted together. Its surface glistened with moisture and was covered in blood-colored sinews and vessels of varying thickness, which pulsed slowly along with the flesh.
The lump of meat kept writhing, bulging, and collapsing, slowly shifting across the stone bottom bit by bit. Flesh squeezed and rubbed against flesh. The intermittent roars he had heard earlier were the sounds of tissue stretching and squeezing as the mass moved, expanded, and contracted.
It had no head and no limbs, and crawled slowly through the darkness. Every contraction of its flesh squeezed out a muffled, distorted roar, one after another, in an endless cycle.
Chen Tie was utterly shocked.
"What exactly is this thing?"
Chen Tie was staring intently at the slowly writhing mass of flesh at the bottom, its distorted, hoarse roars still echoing through the pit.
Suddenly, footsteps sounded behind him.
The torchlight flickered, and a familiar figure approached. It was Mo Hong.
"What are you doing here?"
Mo Hong's voice held a measure of surprise.
Chen Tie raised a hand and pointed at the slowly moving mass of flesh below, asking in a low voice.
"Master, what is this thing? I followed the roaring here. It was coming from this."
His master stepped forward to the edge of the pit, his gaze settling heavily on the writhing lump of meat.
"This thing is called a flesh field."
"It is itself an exotic beast."
Chen Tie looked bewildered. This was clearly beyond his knowledge.
"What is an exotic beast?"
"Exotic beasts are a kind of ferocious beast. They're extremely rare."
"Their most precious part is their flesh and blood. For martial artists, it can nourish the body and strengthen blood and Qi, providing tremendous benefits. The core ingredient of the secret medicine our martial hall's disciples use for cultivation comes from the flesh and blood of exotic beasts."
Mo Hong explained.
Holding the torch, Chen Tie froze slightly.
"If it's an exotic beast, why is it called a flesh field?"
Mo Hong glanced into the pit. "Can you see some markings on that lump of flesh?"
Chen Tie scrutinized the mass. He could indeed faintly make out markings, and they felt somewhat familiar.
"This exotic beast is called a giant striped tiger. It's equivalent to a human martial artist at major attainment in Bone Forging. It took your master quite some effort to capture it."
"But exotic beasts are rare. One certainly isn't enough."
"So we use an aberrant seed to turn the exotic beast into a lump of flesh, allowing us to cut off meat whenever we like to make secret medicine. That is called a flesh field."