Lin Mu stood amidst the wreckage of the once-proud mountains, the dust settling like a fog of awe and devastation. The land bore witness to his strength, reshaped under the terrifying force of his Mountain Collapsing Fist—Third Form: Devastator.
What was once a barren mountain range was now just a cluster of craters. Perhaps in the future when the rains blessed the land, a new land full of lakes would be birthed and with it a plethora of plant life that would invite beasts and more creatures of the world.
But Lin Mu wasn't smiling.
His body remained whole, yes. Not a single bone cracked, nor a muscle torn. The Burdenless Dominator Physique lived up to its na—peerless in its resilience. But sothing else was wrong.
He sat cross-legged on a high stone ridge, golden skin dimming slightly as he cycled his breath.
His qi flow had beco sluggish, his ridians sore, tingling faintly with pain. His apertures, the very nodes through which his immortal essence surged, now pulsed erratically—so spasming slightly under the strain.
"So… that's my limit."
He looked down at his fist, still glowing faintly from the 58% output punch he had unleashed monts ago. The land below him bore a scar miles wide—a deep crevasse like a divine beast had clawed the earth.
But Lin Mu felt no thrill.
"My body is fine. I could have gone further… maybe even to sixty or sixty-five."
"But my ridians and apertures can't take it."
He slowly stood, letting gravity pull at his limbs. The familiar sensation of heaviness, now second nature to him thanks to his Gravity Dao Embryo, felt like a gentle reminder of how far he'd co.
"It's not the fist technique that's faulty," he mused aloud. "It's not even my body."
He turned his gaze inward.
The core problem was painfully clear.
"It's the foundations—the very techniques that support all this strength."
His Three Apertures Invoking Technique and the Tyrant Bull Marrow Secrets had both served him well. They had carried him to the Fifth Tribulation stage of Body Tempering and given him strength few in the world could match. But now… they trembled under the weight of his evolving power.
The Mountain Collapsing Fist, especially in its third form, demanded a level of internal reinforcent that pushed his channels to their brink. At 58%, his apertures had nearly collapsed from the violent surge of immortal essence, and his ridians were visibly bruised under his spiritual sense—like overused battle scars.
If he pushed even a little further…
"I'd rupture everything from the inside out."
Lin Mu clenched his jaw. Not from frustration—but from clarity.
"I've reached a bottleneck."
Not one of cultivation rank or power, but one of technique integrity.
He couldn't bla the skills themselves. After all, they were never ant to reach this level. The Three Apertures Invoking Technique was profound, yes—but it was still developed for Immortals to have a bountiful stores of immortal essence not for raw power.
And the Tyrant Bull Marrow Secrets, for all their savage might, weren't forged to handle the containnt of Dao-infused body cultivation supported by Gravity Daos and Immortal Essence flows of this caliber.
"The container has outgrown its fra."
If he were to continue on this path—to elevate his Mountain Collapsing Fist, to push his physical might even further—he would need to go beyond.
To improve not just himself, but the techniques that housed his strength.
"I'll need to progress them… and in the future craft entirely new ones if not find suitable replacents."
The idea struck hard.
Creating body cultivation techniques was no easy feat. Most sects guarded theirs like sacred scripture, and ancient body arts were often lost to ti. Even refining an existing thod to a higher level could take a genius millennia.
But Lin Mu had two things in his favor:
One—the Burdenless Dominator Physique. A body no longer constrained by mortal or even immortal limitations. With it, he could withstand experints that would kill others.
Two—his unique cultivation path. His comprehension of both tal and Earth, of Gravity, of Heaviness, of Endurance and Violence, was vast. His insights into the Dao had progressed far beyond what most immortals could grasp.
"The next step isn't strength," he murmured.
"It's refinent."
He returned to the monastery not with pride, but with determination. The monks, who had felt the distant quakes and seen the collapse of entire ridgelines, greeted him with silent awe. But Lin Mu only bowed and said:
"I've hit my ceiling. I need to temper what carries now."
The abbot, wise and ever-watchful, nodded with understanding.
"The body is a vessel, Lin Mu. But so too are your arts. Strength is not only a matter of force—but also of flow. If your ridians scream under your power, it ans the technique that moves your strength is incomplete."
Lin Mu agreed.
He secluded himself within the training chambers carved from stone—a vault built to contain pressure, sealed by formation arrays reinforced by gravitational talismans. Here, he began to dissect his body cultivation techniques.
He broke down every step of the Three Apertures Invoking Technique—analyzing how his apertures circulated essence, how they opened and closed, how much qi they could safely handle.
He mapped the Immortal Essence routes of the Tyrant Bull Marrow Secrets, using his Immortal sense to trace the flow of power through his bones, muscle fibers, and tendons.
He drew diagrams, inscribed runes, ditated on insights from his Gravity Dao, and even consulted the monks for fragnts of ancient body knowledge passed down orally.
It was the beginning of sothing new.
Sothing greater.
And Lin Mu knew one thing with certainty:
"Until I forge the vessel worthy of my power, I will not take another step forward."
Lin Mu still had a lot to progress in both of his body cultivation skills that hadn't even reached the peak. Both were at the fifth stage and could grow two more stages. They still had potential and more skills to reveal.
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