After months of wandering, Mộc Phàm had grown accustomed to the harsh reality of survival. He was no longer the naive youth from Mộc Loan village. His gaze was sharp, his movements steady, and his vigilance honed to the maximum. Every coin he earned was soaked in sweat and sometimes, blood.
His "Qi Sea" grew increasingly condensed, emitting a warm, abundant energy. He could feel his physical strength incrementally increasing, yet he still lacked a true method to fully harness and unleash the potential of his "blood qi." The low-level cultivation manual he'd found offered only a shallow understanding of energy circulation, providing no guidance for his unique path.
Mộc Phàm continuously ventured deeper into more desolate and treacherous territories, places cultivators rarely frequented due to danger, but which held hidden opportunities. He couldn't absorb spiritual energy, so areas rich in it held little meaning for him. Instead, he sought out locations with chaotic earth vein energies, spatial cracks, or ancient ruins – places that might conceal secrets about other forms of energy.
One intensely rainy afternoon, Mộc Phàm found himself lost in a jagged mountain range, where strange, oddly shaped rocks had been weathered by time and wind. Thunder ripped across the sky, and rain poured down like a waterfall, forcing him to seek shelter in a cave.
The cave wasn't large, damp and cold, but Mộc Phàm sensed a peculiar ancient aura emanating from deep within. It wasn't spiritual energy, nor was it the familiar "blood qi," but something incredibly ancient, heavy, carrying the sorrowful weight of ages.
Driven by curiosity and instinct, Mộc Phàm ventured deeper. The further he went, the denser the aura became, causing a slight discomfort in his chest. Finally, he reached a flat rock face, covered with countless ancient runes he had never seen before. They weren't like the runes he'd seen on cultivators' magic artifacts. They possessed a crude, powerful appearance, as if crafted by a forgotten civilization.
When Mộc Phàm touched the rock face, the nameless stone in his pouch suddenly vibrated violently, emitting a faint gray glow. The ancient aura from the rock face seemed to be activated, surging more intensely, then was abruptly absorbed by the stone!
A massive surge of information abruptly flooded Mộc Phàm's mind, leaving him dizzy. He staggered back, clutching his head. It wasn't a cultivation technique, but a series of fragmented images, fleeting memories, and above all, a type of "meditation diagram" outlining how to temper the physical body to its absolute limits!
Flashes of images appeared in his mind: ancient warriors, using no magic, relying solely on their formidable physiques to confront giant demons. They forged "blood qi," tempered their sinews and bones, and could even "transform" their bodies into sharp weapons. This was exactly the path he was pursuing!
It wasn't a complete cultivation technique, but rather fragments, fundamental principles of a forgotten cultivation system, known as the "Mortal Body Hundred Forgings Art." The meditation diagrams showed how to guide "blood qi" through special meridians in the body, how to "forge" each muscle fiber, each bone, and how to "nourish" the "Qi Sea" to make it more stable.
The most astonishing thing was that the "Mortal Body Hundred Forgings Art" required no spiritual energy. It relied entirely on absorbing the essence of material things, of the surrounding environment, and most importantly, on tempering through battles, through pain, and through unyielding willpower. Each time "blood qi" was circulated according to the meditation diagrams, Mộc Phàm felt a new surge of power, and his "Qi Sea" became clearer, like a rough gem slowly being polished.
The rain outside continued to pour, but inside the cave, Mộc Phàm had found an invaluable treasure. The nameless stone had led him here, activating these ancient legacies. It wasn't just a lucky charm; it was a key.
Mộc Phàm immediately began to experiment. He sat in meditation according to the posture described in the diagrams, controlling the "blood qi" circulation within his body. At first, it was incredibly difficult; he felt as if thousands of needles were pricking his flesh, but he gritted his teeth and endured. Gradually, the "blood qi" flow became smoother, and he felt his body subtly transforming.
Each time he completed a cycle of "blood qi" circulation according to the meditation diagrams, his "Qi Sea" would emit a faint hum, and ancient images would flash through his mind, giving him another piece of the "Mortal Body Hundred Forgings Art."
Mộc Phàm didn't know where this "Mortal Body Hundred Forgings Art" came from, nor did he know what connection the stone had to it. But he knew this was the path he needed. A path where he could grow stronger on his own, without spirit roots, without depending on any sect or immortal.
When the rain stopped, and the faint moonlight illuminated the cave, Mộc Phàm already felt a significant breakthrough in his cultivation path. His "Qi Sea" had expanded by another circle, and the latent power within his body seemed to have been unlocked a step further.
He left the cave, his gaze more resolute than ever. He had found a guiding light in the darkness of adversity. And he would never stop.