The sheer absurdity of the situation sat in Mu Ye's stomach like a sour pit.
He was the Sect Master of the Body Sect, a man who had seen the heights of power, yet he was watching something that shouldn't exist. Using a divine artifact as a training aid for a beginner? It was beyond outrageous. Even the sons of the gods in ancient legends didn't necessarily get this kind of treatment.
As a teacher, Mu Ye felt a twinge of envy that even Aruheng was benefiting from the "human auspicious beast" standing beside him. For generations, the sages of the Body Sect had bled, screamed, and rotted in this cave with nothing but their own willpower. Not one had ever felt the stabilizing, divine chill of an artifact like the Ice God Pearl.
But as he looked at Aruheng, Mu Ye suppressed his jealousy. With a full innate soul power and the aid of a god's relic, Aruheng wasn't just a successor—he was a miracle in the making. Mu Ye could almost see the boy leading the Body Sect back to the pinnacle of the world.
The Seal of Flesh
"Call..."
Mu Ye exhaled, his body enveloped in a howling gale. He moved with a blur, placing his palms on the backs of both boys. With a sharp surge of power, he sealed their soul power completely.
"Once you enter the Earthly Fiend Cave, you have no magic to hide behind," Mu Ye's voice was stern. "You rely on your bones, your blood, and your grit. Nothing else."
Because of the Ice God Pearl, the two practiced together. They descended a suspended staircase built into the rock wall, stopping exactly ten zhang (approx. 33 meters) underground. Throughout history, this was the "golden depth" for beginners. Any deeper, and the corrosive energy would dissolve a child's foundation; any shallower, and the tempering would be too weak to matter.
The moment the seal took hold, the cave reacted. The malevolent energy didn't care that Zhangting was a high-ranking scion or that Aruheng was the sect's hope. The disruption of the air triggered a vortex of energy.
Like thousands of invisible, flying knives, the fiend energy lashed out.
The Three Steps of Agony
Within minutes, Zhangting was a map of gore. Deep, jagged wounds opened across his body, some slicing deep enough to reveal the pale white of his ribs. The malevolent energy clung to the gashes like maggots, refusing to dissipate, burning with a persistent, corrosive heat.
Sweat poured from his brow, instantly mingling with the blood. Even with the Ice Heart Pill and the Ice God Pearl's radiation, the pain was a living thing. But this was the pressure required for the Innate Secret Technique.
"Now!" Mu Ye commanded.
Following the jade slip's instructions, Zhangting and Aruheng reached for the rare materials they had prepared. They tossed them into the air, where the violent vortex of the cave instantly shredded the herbs and essences into a fine mist.
Body Penetration: Driven by the intense atmospheric pressure and the boys' own surging blood pressure, the medicinal mist was forced into their open wounds.
Marrow Cleansing: The rare herbs acted like fuel. The blood and qi began to boil, stripping away impurities at the cellular level.
Reshaping: New granulation tissue—fresh, pink, and incredibly dense—began to sprout over the scarred surface of their skin.
The Limit of Will
The process wasn't a one-time event. It was a repetitive, grueling cycle of being unmade and remade. For an outsider, it might look boring. For the boys, it was an eternal second of torture.
Every moment was a battle to stay conscious. If they fainted, the "bucket" of their potential would stop expanding. The longer they could endure the flaying, the larger their capacity for power would become. This was especially vital for Zhangting; without a physical martial soul to act as a natural container, he had to manually forge a larger "vessel" through sheer endurance.
Two days passed in a blur of agony.
Mu Ye watched from the shadows, his heart hammering with pride. Both boys had already surpassed his own personal record from his youth. The student had indeed surpassed the teacher.
But everyone has a breaking point. Aruheng, sitting cross-legged in the center of the violet mist, began to sway. His face was ghostly pale, his eyes rolling back. The "Body Douluo of the future" was about to hit his wall.
Mu Ye prepared to move. In the Earthly Fiend Cave, a faint was more than an end to a session—it was a danger to the soul. He waited for the moment Aruheng would tip over, but his eyes drifted to Zhangting, who remained as still as a frozen statue, the Ice God Pearl pulsing in time with a heart that refused to slow down.