Blood soaked the quarry stone, now scattered with unconscious or broken figures. But Zhen Wuji remained untouched, not even a scratch on his bare chest. His breathing was even, but his heart pounded like war drums — not out of fear or exhaustion.
It was the call of the next boundary.
Organ Tempering.
The sixth gate of the Heaven-Crushing Titan Body. The realm where a mortal's fragile organs were reforged into divine engines, each one a temple of power.
"Muscle is strength. Nerve is control. But organs… are endurance," he murmured as he sat once again, returning to the cave's inner sanctum where the stone still pulsed faintly from his earlier resonance.
Behind him, Elder Shan watched silently. The old man had been a sword cultivator once — he had seen talent, genius, even monsters.
But never this.
Wuji's path wasn't genius. It was defiance. Every step forward seemed to scream at the heavens, "I refuse your laws. I will write my own."
Wuji's consciousness sank deep within.
He no longer focused on muscle, bone, or nerves. Now, he turned inward — truly inward — to the engine chambers of the human body.
Heart.
Lungs.
Liver.
Kidneys.
Stomach.
Each one a critical node of life. Each one delicate, vulnerable.
But to Wuji… they were raw materials.
In his mind's eye, his heart appeared first.
A thumping sphere of blood and rhythm, steady and fierce. But it was… limited. Mortal. Beating only because it was told to.
"Not good enough."
He reached with his will.
BOOM.
A single pulse sent pain radiating through his chest. But he welcomed it. Blood surged like fire through his arteries.
"Again."
BOOM.
More pain. His chest felt like it might explode. The vessels screamed, his breath staggered, his vision blurred.
But he smiled.
Each beat of pain was a strike of the forge hammer.
Each pulse, a shattering of weakness.
Organ Tempering was not about protecting the organs.
It was about rebuilding them — from inside out. Destroying their mortal limits, then reforging them into something divine.
He called it the Heart of the Titan Drum — a rhythmic core that did not beat to survive, but to crush.
BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.
The sound was no longer imaginary. The cavern vibrated. The air pulsed in time with Wuji's heart. Each beat now produced a tiny shockwave.
"His heart is… shaking the stone?" Elder Shan whispered.
Wuji's body became crimson as blood raced like lightning through his body. His skin steamed. The cave floor cracked beneath him.
Lungs next.
He forced a deep breath in — then held it.
Then another. Then another. Until his chest looked like it might burst.
His lungs didn't collapse. They expanded.
"Lungs are breath. Breath is life. But I want more than life. I want storm."
He envisioned the Storm-Breath Furnace, his new lung form — where every inhalation was like devouring the wind, and every exhale could blow mountains apart.
The pain came swiftly.
Every breath now burned. But he didn't release it.
He compressed it.
Then roared.
The air around him exploded outward, carving a crater around his body.
His stomach churned — but he didn't stop.
Next came the liver — the center of vitality. He condensed his blood into radiant crimson liquid, filtering out fatigue, weakness, and even spiritual impurities. The Liver of Purity and Rage, he named it. It purified him, but when anger surged, it would boil his blood into explosive might.
The kidneys next — stability, anchoring. He tempered them into Titan Root Nodes, centers of bodily regulation and energy efficiency. They would never again fail him, even under spiritual or environmental suppression.
Hours passed.
The cavern walls, once rough, had been polished smooth by sheer pressure. A natural vacuum now existed around him, as if the air itself bowed to the intensity of his internal reshaping.
Then finally — the complete resonance.
All his organs began to synchronize.
Heart pulsing with storm breath.
Liver boiling pure blood.
Kidneys stabilizing his internal force.
They didn't just function.
They harmonized.
A low hum began to resonate through his body. Not from sound — but from vibration.
His entire body now worked like an ecosystem, a divine machine of war. It wasn't just strong.
It was efficient, durable, indestructible.
He opened his eyes.
The gold light within his pupils had intensified.
His presence no longer radiated violence alone.
Now it radiated immortality.
He stood slowly. Every movement gave off a pressure that weighed on the air itself.
"Organ Tempering… complete," he whispered.
But no sooner had he taken a breath than a presence flared at the edge of the mountain range.
It was coming fast.
Faster than before.
Elder Shan paled. "Someone… someone terrifying approaches! This is different from the others!"
Wuji looked outward calmly.
A golden beam of Qi had appeared in the sky — a flying sword technique used by true elders of a sect.
A Core Formation expert.
No more outer or inner disciples.
The sect was no longer probing.
Now… it was retaliating.
Wuji stepped toward the cave mouth, his body still humming with power.
His hands clenched once more.
"Good," he said simply. "I needed a whetstone."
As the sky split above Dustfall Ridge and a blinding figure descended in fury, Zhen Wuji's steps remained unhurried.
He had no weapon.
No law technique.
No armor.
But within him now roared the Heart that Shakes Mountains, lungs that fed storms, and a body that defied death itself.
And with each step, the world seemed… quieter.
Because even the heavens were beginning to listen.
To the sound of force.