### Chapter 16: Tempering "If we stop like this, won't they attack?" Yan Shizong wondered. "Are you an idiot?" Lin Yi looked at him like he was hopeless. "If they wanted to attack, they would've done it earlier. We stop, they'll stop—just watching from afar." Yan fumed at the insult, but Lin Yi's logic held. Reluctantly, he bit back his anger. Sure enough, Dong and his two men halted 200 yards away, fixing Lin Yi and Yan with stares. Lin Yi glanced at them,冷笑, then said to Yan, "I need to meditate. Watch my back." "I need to meditate too!" Yan protested. "What's the point of *your* meditation? You'd still only handle one or two. Mine? I could take them all. Got it?" Lin Yi snapped, glaring. "I…" "Enough. Do as I say. It'll work." Lin Yi cut him off, tone final. He'd absorbed too many spells—all converted to pure spiritual energy via the Flesh Transformation Technique, now stagnating in his muscles. If he didn't channel it into tempering soon, it would dissipate. Without delay, he sat cross-legged, guiding the energy to actively refine his muscles. During the fight, the technique had worked passively, yielding meager results. With active cultivation, he hoped to complete 30% of Flesh Transformation once the energy was spent—boosting his Iron Sand Palm's power drastically. Yan glowered, then grudgingly stood guard, eyeing Dong's trio and the three fourth-level raiders closing in. The humiliation of a core Mengxuan Sect disciple guarding a Dianxuan outer disciple gnawed at him. "Dammit! That brat's meditating right in front of us! Insulting—this is a slap in the face!" one raider raged, pointing at Lin Yi. "Shut up. Let him do as he likes. We just need to keep him in sight," Dong hissed, eyes icy. He itched to tear Lin Yi apart but knew he couldn't. The raider's outburst only worsened his foul mood. Lin Yi's technique surged, driving energy to refine his muscles with ruthless speed. The pain was excruciating—sweat poured down his face, and blood seeped from his chest, abdomen, and back, mixing with black grime. A stench so foul it made eyes water billowed from him. Yan, closest to Lin Yi, reeled back, clamping a hand over his nose. His eyes widened in shock. He'd only heard his master say such impurities were expelled during Foundation Establishment—when cultivators purified their bodies to build a immortal base. Lin Yi was merely second-level Qi Refinement. What technique was he practicing? Yan's mind swarmed with questions. "Dammit! He's not meditating—he's cultivating! Too arrogant! He doesn't fear us at all!" the earlier raider fumed. "So what? Hall Master Wei will finish him once he's done. He's dead either way," another sneered, blind faith in Wei's eighth-level power. "AH——" Lin Yi groaned. Pain. Unimaginable pain. Blood and grime soaked his cyan robes, turning them dark red. His body spasmed, trembling from agony. The energy crushed his muscles, making them feel alien—yet the pain was all too real. He wanted to carve the muscles from his body. This torment stemmed from his haste. Rushing to expend the stored energy instead of tempering slowly had amplified the pain a hundredfold. Time dragged. An hour crawled by—an eternity for all present. Finally, Lin Yi exhausted the absorbed energy. His chest, abdomen, and most of his back were fully tempered. Flesh Transformation was now 40% complete. The pain vanished the moment he stopped, but the stench lingered. Yan, yards away, had slipped into a breath-holding trance. The air reeked so badly, there was no clean oxygen left to breathe. "Perfect!" Lin Yi stretched, grinning. "Little Shizong, want to meditate, or fight now?" He smiled warmly—unrecognizable from the arrogant brute Yan knew. "Can you really take them if we fight?" Yan asked. "Sure. I'll hold the three fifth-level. You kill the three fourth-level first, then help with the rest," Lin Yi chuckled. "Hmph! All that talk about meditating, and you still need me. I should've meditated first," Yan muttered, annoyed. "You know nothing," Lin Yi scoffed. "Hurry up if you need to meditate. If you're ready, let's go." "I need to meditate," Yan said quickly. Peak condition would make the fight easier. "Make it fast. If that eighth-level cultivator finishes his targets and comes here, we're dead," Lin Yi drawled, as if discussing the weather. "What? That eighth-level will chase us?" Yan's eyes widened. "Just a guess. Believe it or not—your call." "Hmph! Even a sliver of risk matters. No meditation." Yan straightened. "You hold the fifth-level. I'll handle the fourth-level." "About time. I was getting bored waiting." Lin Yi smirked. As if he'd waited at all. Truly, a shameless, flamboyant little cultivator.
