Chapter Seven: Boxing Practice at the Bottom of the Pond

"Bang!" Leng Tian was driven back several steps by the force of the rebound. After being struck, the energy barrier rippled and began to spin, forming a vortex that grew larger and larger. Without further hesitation, Leng Tian leapt like a shooting sword, plunging himself into the heart of the whirlpool.

In the blink of an eye, he passed through and entered the depths of the pool. The energy barrier instantly restored itself, and the suffocating pressure pressed down on him like a mountain. His bones creaked under the strain. "Such terrifying pressure—just what I need to stretch my limbs!"

He extended his body in the icy water, the power of the Ninefold Heaven-Shaking Force surging through him. Golden blood roared like a tide, enveloping him in a golden glow—a body of glazed gold!

He slowly swung his fists, skillfully diverting one undercurrent after another at the bottom of the pool. In just a short moment, Leng Tian had adapted to the flow of the deep water.

His punches grew faster and faster, and with every change of stance and footwork, the dark, frigid water began to churn with raging currents. Each punch sent a stream shooting into the depths.

The speed of his strikes increased relentlessly, and his golden body flashed with a fierce brilliance. The unmatched sharpness of his power radiated outward, forming a golden shield of true energy just an inch from his skin.

Such a shield could only be conjured by masters who had transformed their internal energy into true essence; it was the mark of the highest level of martial cultivation. That Leng Tian could form such a golden shield by sheer force alone spoke volumes of the Ninefold Heaven-Shaking Force—unparalleled in forging the body.

The presence of this shield greatly diminished the pressure. Each punch now flowed effortlessly, as if there were no resistance at all.

The "Heaven and Earth Overlord Fist" was a supreme technique of unrivaled force that Leng Tian had stumbled upon while in the Tianyuan Continent. When combined with his Ninefold Heaven-Shaking Force, its power increased severalfold.

His gaze fixed on the surface above, a gleam of madness flashed in his eyes. Clenching his fists, golden light exploded from his knuckles. With a mighty blow, a gigantic, illusory fist of energy, accompanied by a surging column of water, shot straight for the surface.

His feet pounded the bottom of the pool, and his body darted upward like a feathered arrow. With every punch, golden light flashed beneath his feet. He pressed down on the frigid water with tremendous force, propelling himself ever higher.

In a single breath, he unleashed eight punches. Eight phantom fists propelled eight torrents of water that burst through the surface with a thunderous roar, nearly drowning out the sound of the waterfall. Eight towering columns, each several dozen feet high, crashed down, and a golden figure shot from the pool, using the falling water as stepping stones to leap swiftly to the shore.

Leng Tian reached out for his clothes left on the bank, and in a few agile jumps, landed atop a towering tree. "Boom!" The ground trembled as if from crashing waves; massive surges of water swept over the shore, rolling boulders and sending grass and trees flying.

Donning his clothes, Leng Tian surveyed his surroundings. He felt a deep exhaustion in his body, longing for a good sleep. Though his cultivation had advanced greatly, a mental weariness left him listless—the eight punches just delivered had drained him of both spirit and strength.

Not far away stood an ancient tree so large it would take several people to encircle it. With a few nimble jumps, he climbed into the crown of the tree, where the thick, outstretched branches made a perfect bed. Without concern for comfort, he quickly drifted into a deep sleep.

As he slept, he was unaware that the great blade within his dantian was slowly rotating. With every turn, it seemed to resonate with the entire forest, drawing invisible streams of energy from every tree. These currents wove together, forming a vast, unseen net.

All the energy eventually converged, becoming a gentle torrent that flowed into Leng Tian's body. This power was mild and seeped into every muscle and vein, fusing with his flesh. Gradually, his diamond-hard muscles began to take on a supple resilience and luster.

These mysterious forces were transforming his once unyielding, steel-like flesh, softening and refining it with flexibility. Time passed quietly, and the process continued its slow, steady work.

Leng Tian was startled awake by the sounds of battle and angry shouts. As he opened his eyes, every inch of his body felt an indescribable comfort, both inside and out.

The furious roars and cries grew louder, approaching his perch. Leng Tian's sword-like brows rose as he peered at the approaching figures, human or beast.

Three men and two women, each dressed differently, were running desperately toward him, faces pale with terror and weapons in hand. "Big Sister, what should we do?" cried a sweet-faced young girl, her face anxious as she looked to the cool, red-clad woman at her side.

The woman in red frowned slightly and spoke urgently. "Don't be afraid, Xiaoke. In a moment, you and Zhixuan take the spirit beast and go. Yanlong, Xiaohan, and I will hold them off. Now—go!"

By now, the group had reached the tree where Leng Tian lay hidden, stopping only a dozen paces away. "No! Big Sister, come with us!"

"Listen, Xiaoke," the red-clad woman said, anxiety flashing in her eyes. She turned to the young man beside her and barked, "Zhixuan, take Xiaoke and go—hurry, or it will be too late!"

The youth called Zhixuan, his face pale but resolute, grabbed Xiaoke's hand and, despite her tears and struggles, dragged her quickly away.

From his vantage point in the tree, Leng Tian watched the scene, puzzled by the sense of desperate parting among these strangers.

Just as he was trying to make sense of it, a heavy, thumping sound approached rapidly. Looking up, he saw three massive golden-furred apes charging toward the three remaining women.

The woman gripped her long sword tighter, sweat beading on her brow, a flash of ferocity in her star-bright eyes. With a sharp cry, she sprang forward, her blade gleaming as she slashed at one of the apes.

The other two men—one with a sword, the other wielding a heavy iron staff—joined the fray, each facing one of the giant apes.

The woman's sword swept in arcs toward the ape, but the beast's ferocious eyes showed no fear; it ignored the flashing blade and swung a massive paw at her slender waist. If it struck, it would surely mean a tragic end.

"Clang! Clang!"

The sword struck the ape's body with the sound of metal on metal, sending sparks flying. These golden apes were seventh-rank spirit beasts, their defenses monstrous and their strength immeasurable—without a divine weapon, their hide could not be pierced!

The woman twisted her waist and danced away on nimble feet, narrowly avoiding the ape's huge paw. In a flash, she was behind the beast, both hands gripping her sword as she thrust straight for its heart.

"Bang!" It was like striking a steel drum—the force traveled up the blade, through the hilt, and into her hand, splitting her snow-white palm with lines of blood.