“Are they in the guest house now?” the judge asked the guard with a calm but firm tone.

The guard nodded respectfully. “Yes, Your Honor. They are there. I ensured that beautiful rooms were prepared for them and that they were provided with ample food.”

“You did the right thing,” the judge affirmed with a nod. “Now, return to your post. Whenever you encounter guests of this caliber, this is the protocol you should follow. Ensure that the Core Formation cultivators continue guarding them and instruct them to report any actions the guests take or if they attempt to leave the premises.”

The guard nodded once more, bowing deeply before the judge. He then turned to Armad, greeted him with a respectful salute, and exited the chamber.

As the guard left, one of Armad’s battalion captains, a formidable warrior at the deva level, entered the room. He bowed deeply before addressing Armad. “My lord, among the guests, there are two individuals who have reached the Deva level. The leader of the group, who arrived in the main carriage, is also a Deva, specifically at the third stage of Deva. If Commander Silaini were present, he might be able to precisely estimate this person’s cultivation level. However, I must apologize, my lord, for I am unable to do so.”

Armad shook his head slightly, a gesture that conveyed both contemplation and resolves. After the arduous battle in which he had vanquished a Deva at the third stage, Armad found that his fear of such individuals had diminished significantly. He realized that the only person who might still instill fear in him would be someone who had reached the peak of Deva. Yet, even then, Armad believed he would not shy away from a confrontation.

Reflecting on his past achievements, Armad remembered how he had defeated the third-stage Deva without the aid of a powerful weapon, and despite his skin’s toughness not being fully developed. Now, with his skin’s toughness approaching perfection and his overall power having multiplied, he felt a newfound confidence. He was certain that if he were to face his former self, he could defeat him effortlessly.

As these thoughts about his skin crossed his mind, Armad couldn’t help but recall the rough texture he still felt beneath his attire. The idea of revealing his skin to those in the room filled him with concern; he feared they might react with horror. He knew he needed to gather all the skin-whitening pills he could find to remedy this issue before anyone saw his current state.

Turning his attention back to the captain, Armad dismissed him with a wave of his hand. The captain bowed again and exited the chamber. Armad then looked towards the judge.

“Where is the work that I ordered you to do?” the judge inquired, pausing momentarily before recalling the task Armad had assigned him. He reached into his magical bag and began pulling out medicinal plants he had harvested from the farm. To Armad’s surprise, the plants still bore traces of soil, indicating they had been freshly collected. In no time, the plants covered the entire surface of the dining table, forcing the judge to place the overflow on the ground.

After emptying his bag, the judge looked up at Armad, awaiting further instructions. Armad dismissed him and instructed the guard to prevent anyone from entering. He then issued another command to the judge: “Inform the guests that they will not be able to see me for the next 24 hours. I am preoccupied with urgent matters.”

Just as the judge was about to leave, he hesitated and turned back to face Armad. “My Lord, don’t you think 24 hours is too long? Given our current situation, we shouldn’t do anything that might anger the guests. If you consider my advice, I suggest you meet with them now to understand their concerns.”

Armad’s eyes flashed with irritation. “Go and tell them they will not see me until after 24 hours. They are free to explore the town, but make sure they are accompanied by a deva to guide them. If they cannot wait, show them the way out.”

The judge, sensing Armad’s rising anger, quickly exited the room. He understood that Armad had been agitated ever since receiving the letter from his father. Meeting the guests now, in his current state, might result in a heated exchange that could jeopardize their discussions. With this in mind, the judge bowed respectfully to Armad before departing to relay the message to the guests.

After the chamber emptied and everything returned to normal, Armad realized he could hear the system’s voice directly in his ears. The voice informed him that the system required the plants that had been brought to him. As Armad processed this information, he also began to understand the source of his irritation—he hadn’t eaten for several days. Since emerging from his meditation, he had neglected to eat, and considering his current circumstances, he hadn’t been consuming food regularly ever since he merged with the system.

Before turning his attention to the plants, Armad first devoured all the food that had been provided to him. The quantity was immense, enough to satisfy ten adult men. Yet, when he looked at his stomach, it remained flat, showing no signs of fullness. This was precisely what Armad wanted; if his stomach appeared full, he wouldn’t be able to consume the large quantities of food he desired. Unlike now, when his stomach showed no indication that it was filled, let alone nearing capacity.

With the food consumed, Armad turned his attention to the plants. However, before he began eating, he hesitated, reflecting on the absurdity of his situation. He was not a wild animal or a goat, yet here he was, forced to eat plants. In that moment of contemplation, Armad bitterly thought that if the system were a tangible being, he would smash it out of sheer frustration. But he quickly dismissed these thoughts and began to consume the plants, tossing them into his mouth without a second thought. Surprisingly, he didn’t bother to remove the soil from the plants or attempt to season them for taste—he simply ate them as they were. He was confident that his stomach was extraordinarily resilient, capable of handling anything he ingested. He also trusted that even if something did manage to upset his stomach, the system would transform it into something beneficial.

In a remarkably short time, Armad was the only one left in the room; all the food and plants had been consumed. He took a deep breath, anticipating the release of a gas that would signify his satisfaction, but it didn’t happen. This was because such a release was a sign of fullness, and he was far from full.

As Armad spent his time-consuming food and plants, the system was hard at work, producing medicines. The process was intricate and time-consuming, taking a full three hours to complete the production of the necessary pills.

During the time that the system took producing the pills, Armad focused his attention on testing the toughness of his skin. Despite countless previous tests where he knew nothing could harm him, this time there was a significant change. The first thing he noticed was that his skin had transformed to resemble plastic, a peculiar kind that, when struck, exhibited a unique resilience, pushing back against the force applied.

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Raising his hand, Armad held a knife enveloped in lightning, channeling nearly all his power into it. He stabbed the knife into his hand, which was firmly placed on the table. To his astonishment, after the stab, his skin neither resembled plastic nor soil but something entirely different, something that effectively repelled the knife. Unlike previous occasions where an unseen toughness would stop the knife, this time, it felt as if his skin itself actively pushed the knife back.

Armad couldn’t fully comprehend or believe the newfound toughness of his skin. All he knew was that he didn’t sense any impact, let alone feel pain. He began to ponder the extent to which his skin had toughened. What level of resilience had he achieved?

To further test his limits, he invoked the power of his world, enhancing the strength of his attack by an additional 15%. If his cultivation year previously stood at 9,999, this enhancement added another 1,500, surpassing the pre-deva level and reaching the first stage of deva. Armad grasped the knife once more and drove it into the palm of his hand. This time, he keenly observed as his skin responded. It moved and pushed the knife back, mimicking the behavior of a highly resilient plastic rather than human skin. His skin remained unaltered, and he felt no pain—only an overwhelming sense of toughness that repelled any force applied against it.

Despite his determined efforts to stab the knife into his hand, the force emanating from his skin continuously pushed the knife back. Resilience was not just a passive defense but an active repulsion of any threat.

Armad’s realization deepened. He understood that if an attacker lacking significant power attempted to stab him with a sword or knife, his skin alone, without any conscious effort on his part, would be sufficient to repel the attacker’s weapon. This newfound toughness was not merely a defensive mechanism but a formidable barrier that could neutralize attacks effortlessly.

One significant observation he made about the newfound toughness of his skin was its reactive force. The intensity with which he applied pressure determined the force that would push back. When he used minimal power, he barely felt any resistance. However, as he increased the force, he could distinctly feel his skin pushing back against the pressure.

After some time experimenting with the knife, he decided to set it down. Today, his goal was to test whether anything could injure his skin. Without hesitation, he retrieved a special sword from his magical bag. This sword was unique, imbued with potent energies, and designed for high-level cultivators. He channeled his cultivation energy into the sword and activated his Miyura. He waited patiently for his cultivation energy to be fully restored. Within moments, his cultivation level surged from over 9,000 years to an astounding 17,000 years. A deep instinct suggested that he amplify his power by using a drop of his blood on his Miyura. This would unlock his power’s full potential. However, he decided against it because he was merely testing the toughness of his skin, not seeking to harm himself.

He knew all too well that using his blood on the Miyura would dramatically increase his cultivation, far beyond its current surge. Yet, this came at a steep price: his body would endure severe damage, leaving him bedridden for days. This was a risk he was unwilling to take for such a simple test.

With his cultivation now at over 17,000 years, and considering the additional enhancements provided by his world, his total cultivation equaled more than 20,000 years. This impressive milestone meant he had already reached the second stage of deva.

Armad then prepared for the next phase of his test. He commanded his world to refrain from decreasing the power of the attack he was about to launch at himself. Typically, his world would automatically reduce any incoming attack by 10%, allowing only 90% of the force to reach him. However, he could disable this protection using his Nagirinki, his command over the world’s laws. For this test, he chose to remove the reduction entirely, ensuring that the full force of the attack would be felt.

With determination, he gathered all his strength and prepared to strike his hand with the sword. As the blade approached his skin, a sudden wave of fear swept over him. The thought of accidentally cutting his hand, especially his right hand, was terrifying. This hand was crucial for his cultivation practices and daily tasks. The idea of injuring it, even in a controlled test, was daunting. Subconsciously, he slowed the speed of the sword. He couldn’t help but think about the consequences of such an injury. The ridicule and laughter he would face from others if he injured himself in such a manner were unbearable. This fear caused him to instinctively reduce the sword’s speed.

However, what happened after his stroke of the sword hit his hand took him by surprise. As the sword made contact, a peculiar, plastic-like cycle emerged from his skin and repelled the sword. Despite anticipating what would occur if his skin pushed back the sword, he couldn’t maintain his grip. The sword fell to the ground, and astonishingly, the table on which he had placed his hand was also thrust aside. This confirmed his hypothesis: the power exerted during the attack determined the force with which his skin would react and push it back. If the attack lacked significant power, the person might not experience any serious repercussions. However, if a substantial amount of power was used in the attack, it posed a considerable danger.

Now, Armad attempted to raise his hand but found himself unable to; his hand was already lifeless. He frowned, recalling that he had anticipated this possibility. Nevertheless, his determination to understand the limit of the attack his skin could repel had made him disregard that thought. He was acutely aware that even if his skin could stop the attack, the power of the strike could still permeate his muscles, bones, and blood, causing internal harm.

At that moment, he was uncertain about the extent of the damage inflicted by his attack. Yet, he had lost all sensation in his hand and couldn’t even lift it. He shook his head in disbelief. Visibly, his skin remained intact and unharmed, but the loss of sensation indicated a serious internal injury. This realization struck him hard: if he were in combat and used his hand to block an adversary’s attack, he would be unable to use that hand again until the battle concluded. The implications of such a vulnerability were grave.

In a mix of anger and frustration, he retrieved a handful of energy-boosting pills, swallowed them, and hoped they would accelerate the healing process for his hand.

As he waited for the pills to take effect, he began contemplating how to effectively utilize the incredible toughness of his skin, which had reached an unprecedented level of one hundred percent effectiveness. The challenge lay in balancing the defensive advantage with the potential risk of internal damage.

Ten minutes later, sensation began to return to his hand. He looked into his magical bag and was surprised by what he saw. The system had not only produced a substantial number of pills but had also meticulously arranged them into different categories, making it easier for him to find exactly what he needed.

The first thing that captured his attention amidst the sterile surroundings was that the pills bore an uncanny resemblance to human flesh, a sight that sent a shiver down his spine. In contrast to the previous iterations that mimicked human skin, these new pills, with their crimson hue, seemed to evoke a sense of macabre fascination.

Armad couldn’t help but feel a sense of unease at the sight before him. The idea of ingesting something that so closely resembled human tissue unsettled him, even though he knew deep down that they were merely medicinal capsules, not actual flesh. The clash between his logical understanding and visceral reaction created tension within him as he stood there, contemplating the implications of these strange pills.

Turning away from the other pills, his gaze fixated on the meticulously arranged pills of red capsules, resembling a miniature mountain. Estimating the count to be around 2,000 pieces, he couldn’t help but wonder about the potential effects they might have on his muscle toughness.

As he stood there, pondering the possibilities that lay before him, a nagging question arose in his mind. Would the consumption of these pills bring about the same discomfort and pain he had experienced with the previous skin toughness pills, or would it be an entirely different ordeal? The uncertainty of the situation gnawed at him, a mix of curiosity and apprehension swirling within him.

With a deep breath, Armad steeled himself for what was to come. Reaching out, he selected a single pill from the mound, holding it in his hand as if weighing the consequences of his actions. With a resolute expression, he made a decision and tossed the pill into his mouth, the first step on a path that held both promise and uncertainty.