Days bled into one another beneath the sweltering subterranean ceiling.
Inside the carved-out basalt cavern, Shen Yu remained locked in relentless cultivation, twisting his body into the grotesque, agonizing postures of the Asura Blood-Forging Sutra.
Every contortion strained his sinews to the absolute limit, forcing his boiling blood essence to crash through unrefined blood pathways like molten iron.
By the fourteenth day, his skin was caked in a thick layer of foul, black grime, impurities forcibly squeezed out from the deepest layers of his marrow.
Suddenly, a faint spatial ripple brushed against his spirit sense.
Someone was entering the volcanic caldera.
Shen Yu smoothly transitioned out of the final stance.
Circulating a burst of pure Qi beneath his skin, he vaporized the crusted impurities from his body in an instant, leaving his skin pristine, fair, and radiating a subtle, metallic luster.
