With his Body Core established, Mộc Phàm felt an unprecedented surge of confidence. He no longer felt timid before Qi Condensation cultivators, even feeling strong enough to contend with Foundation Establishment experts. However, caution was deeply ingrained in his very being. He knew this strength was still a tiny fraction compared to what the vast cultivation world could offer. His goal remained to stay hidden, cultivate, and seek further opportunities to grow stronger, before truly embarking on his path of vengeance.
Mộc Phàm began to venture into more complex territories, areas where cultivation powers clashed, where there were numerous mortal tasks, and where hidden dangers lurked. He chose a small cultivator city called Falling Wind City, situated in a contested zone between two major sects, the Heavenly Sword Sect and the Profound Yin Valley. Here, the chaos and demand for raw strength made it easier for him to blend in without drawing excessive attention.
He started taking missions from various general stores and small trade guilds, primarily escorting goods through dangerous areas, hunting Tier 2 demonic beasts, or searching for resources in perilous locations. With the might of his Body Core, Mộc Phàm completed these tasks with astonishing ease. Where other Qi Condensation cultivators typically needed to form teams or expend significant time and magic artifacts, Mộc Phàm could do it alone, quickly and efficiently.
The reputation of "Mortal Iron Fist"—a moniker he unintentionally gained after shattering the armor of a Tier 2 Golem with his steel fist—began to spread among the rogue cultivators and mortals in Falling Wind City. At first, no one believed it. A mortal capable of such feats? But as Mộc Phàm continuously completed missions deemed "tough" for Qi Condensation cultivators, skepticism gradually turned into astonishment.
"Are you sure you're a mortal?" An elder of a trade guild, a Mid-Foundation Establishment cultivator, asked Mộc Phàm when he came to turn in a mission. The elder's eyes were filled with curiosity, his spiritual sense sweeping over Mộc Phàm but detecting no spiritual energy whatsoever.
Mộc Phàm simply nodded. "This humble one is just a bit stronger than average."
"A bit stronger than average?" The elder scoffed. "Do you mean your strength can shatter a Tier 2 Golem? Or contend with a Perfected Qi Condensation cultivator?"
Mộc Phàm offered no reply, merely bowing his head to collect his reward. He knew he was attracting attention, but this was unavoidable if he wanted to earn enough resources to continue his path. He had to accept the risk.
Mộc Phàm's prominence attracted both those who sought to exploit him and those who sought trouble.
One day, a group of rogue cultivator thugs, relying on their numbers and a bit of late Qi Condensation cultivation, ambushed Mộc Phàm in a secluded alley. "Hey, you mortal, heard you're real strong? Hand over all your money, or don't blame us for being impolite!"
Mộc Phàm's eyes turned cold. He didn't want trouble, but he wasn't weak enough to be bullied. His Body Core circulated, a surging wave of power spreading throughout his body. He wasted no words, simply throwing a straight punch at the leader.
Thump!
The leader, a late Qi Condensation cultivator, had no time to react before he was sent flying into the wall, his ribs cracking, knocking him unconscious. The others recoiled in fear. A mortal could knock out a late Qi Condensation cultivator with just one punch? They had never seen such a thing.
Mộc Phàm didn't kill them, delivering just enough force to warn them. He stepped over their prone forms, leaving without a word.
This incident quickly spread throughout Falling Wind City, solidifying the reputation of "Mortal Iron Fist." Cultivators began to look at Mộc Phàm differently. No longer with disdain, but with curiosity, tinged with apprehension. Some smaller sects even began to secretly send people to observe him.
There were even rumors that both the Heavenly Sword Sect and Profound Yin Valley, the two major powers contesting Falling Wind City, had taken notice of him. A mortal without spirit roots possessing strength beyond mortal limits was exceedingly unusual, potentially an anomaly, or hiding an astonishing secret.
Mộc Phàm knew he had stepped onto a larger, more dangerous stage. But he had no regrets. Every battle, every challenge, was another instance of tempering his "Body Core," another step towards becoming stronger. His path of vengeance and seeking the truth was slowly becoming clearer, even if those obstructing him were growing increasingly powerful and terrifying.
He had to prepare.