At this moment, Young Li Mo was advancing through the tunnel leading deep into the fire vein, his expression grave.
Why am I having such thoughts?
What exactly has stolen my innocence?
As a righteous gentleman, how could I entertain such terrifying ideas—ones that even the Patriarch of the Joyous Union Sect would exclaim in awe?
Li Mo took out a Cold Spring Pill and swallowed it. While the pill could quell the physical heat, it did nothing to ease the torment of his conscience!
The Frost Fairy was pure and flawless, like unblemished jade. If she were to learn of the thoughts swirling in his mind, her gaze would no longer be merely scrutinizing—it might turn to... fear?
She might even shrink back, hugging her long legs tightly, curling into herself, begging him not to come closer...
"!"
"The influence of the Roaring Serpent bloodline on me has lasted far too long!"
"No wonder even the Buddha Sect's Master Zangai couldn't resist its allure—such a formidable bloodline..."
"But then again..."
As his thoughts churned, Li Mo recalled a joke from his past life.
God descended and said to a man, "I can grant you three wishes."
The man was overjoyed. "My first wish is immortality. My second wish is endless wealth."
God replied, "Done. I have fulfilled all your wishes."
The man was puzzled. "But that was only two?"
God said, "Look down."
And so, the moral of the story was clear—even God found his desires perfectly reasonable.
"Right, that's how it is."
Li Mo let out a relieved sigh and decided to shelve his bold idea for now. After all, while his Pure Yang robe was made of special material that could adapt to bodily changes without tearing...
The same couldn't be said for his pants.
Ahead lay the depths of the fire vein.
Li Mo took the opportunity to practice his use of the Heaven-Earth Manifestation technique, finding it somewhat similar to the Indestructible Vajra Body. His current physique couldn't sustain it indefinitely.
He could only use it intermittently, and after each activation, the cooldown period grew longer.
A short while later, footsteps echoed from the tunnel.
"Xiao Mo, have you broken through again?"
Elder Hanhe arrived, carrying an assortment of damaged weapons.
Some were broken blades from the Divine Edge Cave, while others were flawed castings from the smithing hall. Li Mo lacked a deep understanding of the essence of different weapons.
Thus, his daily task was to reforge these weapons.
"Seven Apertures of Insight... Tsk tsk, rarely does a craftsman possess such astonishing talent."
Elder Zeng, both amazed and pleased, wore a hopeful smile.
This was precisely why master smiths were so rare. Those with exceptional cultivation aptitudes usually focused solely on reaching higher realms—who would waste their time on forging weapons?
But a master smith required more than just unparalleled forging skills; their own cultivation was equally crucial.
A divine weapon often harnessed the power of heaven and earth.
"Begin. Now that your cultivation has improved, let's see if you can forge a top-grade weapon from these materials today."
"These aren't as precious as refined iron or gold—you'll need to maximize their potential."
Li Mo nodded. Under the watchful eyes of the two elders, he approached the pile of broken weapons and began sorting those with similar materials.
Would reforging these weapons over the next five days allow his Extreme Arms Forging Body to advance further?
Though he still couldn't wield the hammer treasure for extended periods, he now had the Heaven-Earth Manifestation technique.
Quieting his restless thoughts, he began melting down the damaged weapons.
Heat the furnace, pour in oil, stir-fry and forge.
Thirteen flawed weapons were reforged at once, their impurities purged.
Clang—
Li Mo gripped the hammer, his eyes narrowing slightly. Amidst the crisp ringing of metal, sparks flew as he struck the glowing iron on the ancestral anvil.
He activated the Divine Treasure Hundred Refinements technique—ten strikes in a single breath—before exhaling a long, scorching sigh.
The chaotic energy of the Heaven-Earth Manifestation silently coiled around his arm, a slow and deliberate process as Li Mo cautiously experimented with applying this divine ability to forging.
Lift, strike!
Another near-overlapping flurry of hammer blows!
But this time, only six strikes rang out.
"Didn't Xiao Mo's forging technique allow ten strikes per breath before?"
Elder Hanhe narrowed his eyes. "Why has he regressed after breaking through..."
"Something's off..."
Elder Zeng observed for a moment before murmuring, "Haven't you noticed? Each strike carries more force now."
"True. Could it be... he's trying to master this newfound strength?"
No sooner had Elder Hanhe spoken than—
Crack!
The metal on the anvil let out a grating shriek.
The once-dense weapon blank fractured with fine cracks—a sign of failure.
"Still lacking in control."
Li Mo shook his head but showed no discouragement. He began reforging the weapon anew, adjusting his approach, waiting for the Heaven-Earth Manifestation to cool, then starting over.
Remelt the materials, forge the blank—beginning with six strikes per breath.
Seven...
Eight...
Nine...
Ten!
Clang—
The rhythmic hammering sent sparks flying.
"It seems he's finally adapted to his increased strength."
"Impressive. It only took him two attempts to regain control of his body. Xiao Mo's physical and forging talents are truly once-in-a-lifetime."
Before the two elders could finish their praise—
Boom—
An even heavier metallic clang reverberated endlessly through the cavern.
"Huh?"
Elder Hanhe and Elder Zeng exchanged stunned glances.
How had his strength increased again?
The boy hadn't broken through another realm!
"Slowly increasing the infusion of chaotic energy..."
Li Mo's right arm was now visibly thicker than a normal person's, pulsing with even greater power.
Indeed, he hadn't fully unleashed the Heaven-Earth Manifestation yet.
Instead, after improving his control, he raised its power another level.
Time passed.
The two elders watching from the side were utterly dumbfounded.
A large pile of ruined weapon blanks had accumulated.
Because every time Li Mo mastered ten strikes per breath, his strength would surge to yet another tier.
Physical growth was supposed to be a gradual process.
What they were witnessing was no different from watching a seed sprout, bloom, and bear fruit the moment it touched the ground.
And stranger still...
"Why is only one of his arms growing stronger?"
Finally.
In the timeless cavern, Li Mo's ears seemed to roar with the sound of surging blood and energy. He could feel the violent power coursing through that arm—
But unlike before, this strength now answered to his will.
"I've reached the limit."
"This state can't be maintained for long."
Li Mo opened his eyes, his gaze reflecting the blazing glow of fire and iron.
"Today, I only have one chance."
transmigrates into the world as the sect master of the Heavenly Yan Sect, which is on the verge of being wiped out. He binds a system that grants him cultivation power based on the number of disciples he has: for each disciple, he automatically gains a year's worth of cultivation every single day! Take one disciple: every day he gains 1 year of cultivation power. While others struggle through a year of bitter training, he gets the same just by sleeping through a single night. Take ten disciples: every day he gains 10 years of cultivation power. Foundation Establishment, Core Formation, Nascent Soul—he breezes through all bottlenecks without lifting a finger. Take one hundred disciples: every day he gains 100 years of cultivation power. Even a Soul Transformation Venerable before him can’t survive a single blow. Take ten thousand disciples: every day he gains 10,000 years of cultivation power! With a wave of his hand, he topples empires. With a single step, he crushes the sacred grounds of the universe. ... While others fight tooth and nail for secret techniques, Lin Yan casually hands out Nascent Soul-level cultivation manuals as beginner textbooks. While others strain to find talented recruits, Lin Yan opens his doors to anyone—so long as they’re human. In just three short years, the Heavenly Yan Sect went from a backwater sect made up of three crumbling huts to a sacred land that every cultivator under heaven would kill to enter. ... One day, otherworldly demon gods invade, with a million demon soldiers pressing down upon the realm. Lin Yan, yawning, rises from his lounge chair and glances at the system panel: [Current Disciples: 1.28 million] [Daily Cultivation Increase: 1.28 million years] He waves his hand casually, and the countless demon soldiers are reduced to ashes in an instant. “So noisy… interrupting my fishing.”
world slacker. But a genius female disciple just had to get clingy, insisting that he take her as a disciple. Not only that, she was always making advances on him, thoroughly disrupting his peaceful slacker life...
e bizarre and supernatural had descended. The previous emperor was a thoroughgoing tyrant; no longer satisfied with human women, he had set his sights on a stunningly beautiful supernatural entity. He met his end in his bedchamber, drained of all his vital essence. As the legitimate eldest son and crown prince, Wang Hao was thus hastily enthroned, becoming the young emperor of the Great Zhou Dynasty. No sooner had he awakened the "Imperial Sign-In Intelligence System" than he was assassinated by a Son of Destiny—a classic villain's opening. The Great Zhou, ravaged by the former emperor's excesses, was in national decline. The great families within its borders harbored their own treacherous schemes, martial sects began to defy the imperial court's decrees, and border armies, their pay and provisions in arrears, grumbled incessantly against the central government. Fortunately, the central capital was still held secure by the half-million Imperial Guards and fifty thousand Imperial Forest Army who obeyed the court's orders, along with the royal family's hidden reserves of power, barely managing to suppress the realm. As the Great Zhou's finances worsened and supernatural activities grew ever more frequent, the court sat atop a volcano. Ambitious plotters everywhere dreamed of overthrowing the dynasty, and even some reclusive ancient powers emerged, attempting to sway the tides of the world. At the first grand court assembly, the civil and military officials nearly came to blows, fighting tooth and nail over the allocation of fifty million taels of silver from the summer tax revenues. The spectacle opened Wang Hao's eyes—the Great Zhou's bureaucracy was not only corrupt but also martially proficient, a cabinet of all-rounders. Some officials even had the audacity to suggest the emperor release funds from the imperial privy purse to address the emergency. Wang Hao suddenly felt weary. Let it all burn.
pression Bureau] Transported to a fantasy world overrun by demons and monsters, Gu Qingfeng becomes a jailer in the Demon Suppression Prison of the Great Yan Dynasty's Demon Suppression Bureau. From this point on, bizarre cases frequently occur in the Demon Suppression Prison, once known as hell on earth and infamous for its gloomy, terrifying atmosphere! Why do the demons and monsters in the prison wail miserably every night? Why has the corpse demon, capable of transforming into various beauties, donned black stockings and switched careers to become a foot massage therapist? Why has the eye demon, expert in soul-snatching and illusions, turned into a VR headset? Why is the fox spirit performing otaku dances? Are all these occurrences a twisted expression of demonic nature, or a descent into moral depravity? After peeling away layer upon layer of mystery, all clues ultimately point to a jailer named Gu Qingfeng. Gu Qingfeng: "Hehehe... My dear demons and monsters, whose card shall we flip today?"
