As Armad expected, the pills took effect with lightning speed, and he felt excruciating, debilitating pain, as if his muscles were being torn into shreds, ripped apart like fragile fabric. The agony was swift and intense, a sudden and merciless onslaught that left him breathless, prompting him to clench his teeth in a futile attempt to alleviate the suffering. The pain was all-encompassing, a relentless and unforgiving torrent that engulfed his entire body, penetrating deep into his muscles, leaving no part untouched, a sensation that defied comprehension.
As the pain intensified, Armad became overwhelmed, his eyes wide with horror, his face contorted in a twisted grimace as if the pain had awakened a deep-seated terror within him. But just as suddenly, the pain vanished, leaving him stunned, bewildered, and gasping for breath, as a man who had been submerged in a sea of suffering and then abruptly pulled back into the safety of the surface.
He took a deep, ragged breath and sighed heavily, the sound echoing through the silence like a mournful sigh, a testament to the anguish he had endured. Realizing the pill’s effects had ended, he understood that the single pill he took was only a test, a trial by fire, and its power had ceased, leaving him spent, exhausted, but strangely more determined than ever.
The pain’s abrupt cessation left him contemplative, lost in thought as if trying to make sense of the unbearable suffering he had just endured. But he soon decided that it wouldn’t deter him from his goals, his resolve hardened like steel in the face of adversity. With a newfound determination burning in his eyes, he took five more pills, bracing himself for the impending agony.
This time, the pain multiplied fivefold, a maelstrom of suffering that threatened to engulf him whole. Armad felt his muscles, including those surrounding his bones, being ripped apart, torn asunder like fragile threads. Even his heart and internal organs felt like they were being torn into pieces, a sensation that defied explanation, a horror beyond comprehension.
He couldn’t discern whether the pain was solely relegated to his muscles or also radiated through his skin, as the two were inextricably linked, like intimate partners in a torturous dance. However, he was certain that the current pain was more profound, a deeper and more menacing anguish than the pain he experienced when taking the skin-toughening pills, which had only scratched the surface of his endurance. The previous pain had only affected his external body, a superficial discomfort, but this pain enveloped both his internal and external being, a suffocating shroud that threatened to consume him whole.
He felt as if his heart, kidneys, and other internal organs were on the verge of bursting, torn apart like fragile glass, shattered by the unrelenting onslaught of agony. His eyes felt like they were being pierced by a thousand razor-sharp needles, his vision blurring at the edges, as if the pain was seeping into his very soul.
Despite the unbearable, excruciating agony, he knew that victory often follows hardship, like a beacon of hope in the darkness, and so he summoned the courage to take another handful of pills, exceeding ten, and threw them into his mouth with a fierce determination. Soon, he felt himself becoming unconscious, his eyes struggling to stay open due to the overwhelming pain, his body feeling like it was being pulled down into an abyss of suffering. Time seemed to slow down, stretching out the agony, and he lost all sense of time, adrift in a sea of torment.
When he finally opened his eyes, the pain had vanished, banished like a malevolent spirit, and he was surprised to find that he didn’t feel weakened, drained, or lose sensation in his body, as he had anticipated. Instead, he felt a newfound power coursing through his veins, a potent energy that thrummed like a wild animal, waiting to be unleashed, a fierce and unyielding strength that seemed to emanate from the very marrow of his bones. His body seemed transformed, different from the one he knew before as if the pills had unlocked a hidden reserve of resilience.
Even before taking the pills, he was brimming with power, his energy reserves overflowing like a swollen river, due to his cultivation being stuck at 9,999, unable to progress further, like a barrier blocking his ascent. However, the power he now felt was almost twice the magnitude of what he had experienced before, a surge of strength that was both exhilarating and intimidating. As this thought crossed his mind, he wondered if he had finally reached the pre-deva level, a milestone he had been striving for with unwavering dedication.
He quickly assessed his cultivation and was astonished to discover that, for the first time, his cultivation had broken through the barrier that had held it back at the peak of the core formation level, advancing to the pre-deva level with a momentum that was both thrilling and unprecedented. This breakthrough was like a dam bursting, releasing a torrent of energy that had been pent up for so long.
He was taken aback by this unexpected development, his mind reeling with the implications of this sudden leap, as his focus had been on increasing his muscle toughness, not his cultivation. Perhaps, he thought, he needed to enhance his muscle toughness before his cultivation could reach this level, like a key fitting perfectly into a lock, or maybe it was just a stroke of luck, a fortunate coincidence that had unlocked his true potential. Nevertheless, his cultivation was now rapidly advancing at the pre-deva level. Surged from 10,000 years, the threshold of the pre-deva stage, to 10,400 years, as if his cultivation had been longing to reach this milestone and was now unfettered, finally able to manifest its true potential. This rapid progress was the source of the newfound power coursing through his body, a transformation that Armad had anticipated.
Now, his heart swelled with unbridled joy and anticipation, like a blooming flower unfolding its petals to greet the sun. He approached his Miyura with bated breath, eager to discover the extent of the cultivation increase he would receive now that he had reached the pre-deva level. Previously, at the peak of the core formation level, his cultivation used to had increased by approximately 8,000 years.
Although the difference in cultivation he had in the two levels wasn’t vast, the two levels were distinct, like two separate realms with unique characteristics, and a single pre-deva cultivator could effortlessly defeat peak core formation cultivators, even if they numbered 15. He could confront 50 of them consecutively without breaking a sweat, his power and prowess now rivaling that of a legendary hero. This was merely a hypothetical comparison between a newly minted pre-deva cultivator and peak core formation cultivators.
However, the disparity between peak core formation cultivators and those at the pinnacle of the pre-deva level was like the difference between earth and sky – incomparable, a chasm so vast that it defied measurement.
Armad was about to activate his Miyura to witness the cultivation increase, his fingers hovering over the ancient artifact with anticipation, when he hesitated, sensing another transformation within his body, a subtle yet profound change related to his muscle toughness. He turned to the system, and as if the system felt his gaze, it began to speak.
“You’ve increased the toughness of your muscles by a mere 3% out of 100, a small yet significant step towards unlocking your true potential. Each muscle in your body has enhanced its resilience to three percent of its maximum potential. Keep striving! When your muscle toughness finally reaches the pinnacle of 100%, it will have attained the same unyielding resilience as your skin.
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Armad clenched his fist, and suddenly, he felt a surge of new power coursing through his hand like a raging river overflowing its banks. This power differed vastly from what he experienced when enhancing his skin’s toughness, a subtle yet crucial distinction. Previously, the power only protected his skin from harm, a shield of resilience that deflected external forces without amplifying his physical strength. However, the power he felt now indicated a significant increase in his smashing ability, a testament to the harmonious synergy between his muscles and bones. By enhancing one element, he was achieving a cumulative effect, leading to a substantial boost in his overall strength, a formidable fusion of power and resilience.
Initially, Armad faced a daunting challenge when increasing his skin’s toughness: he wanted to avoid injuries to his muscles and bones if his enemy struck him with force, even if his skin remained unharmed, a delicate balance between protection and potency. Now, he was achieving this goal, his muscles and bones working in concert to amplify his strength while safeguarding his body from harm. His body’s strength and smashing power would continue to increase as he enhanced his muscle toughness.
His heart swelled with unbridled joy and anticipation, knowing that if his muscles became as tough as his skin, he would acquire unparalleled power. He imagined the immense strength he would possess when he reached this level, his mind painting vivid pictures of his future prowess, and how his peers at the same cultivation level wouldn’t even dare dream of facing him in battle, their courage wilting like a flower in the face of a raging storm.
With excitement coursing through his veins like a river of gold, he channeled his cultivation into Miyura, and before long, it activated. His cultivation soared from 10,450 to 15,000 years, then continued to climb with unrelenting momentum, reaching 17,000, 18,000, and finally, 19,999 years. This was a breakthrough of unprecedented proportions, surpassing his previous limit of 18,000 years, which he had struggled to exceed without resorting to using his blood sacrifice. Now we needed only a single year of cultivation before advancing to the second stage of Deva, a significant milestone within the Deva stages.
Happiness once again filled his mind, a profound sense of joy and contentment that came with the realization that activating his Miyura would multiply his cultivation years. And now, as a deva cultivator, the world would begin to assist him. He could also utilize all of his cultivation to launch attacks without depleting his reserves, a significant advantage over core formation cultivators.
Armad rose from his meditation, aware that guests had been waiting for him. He estimated that he had spent two days in meditation. Summoning the deva guardian at his door, he inquired about the passage of time. As expected, a considerable amount of time had elapsed. He decided to meet with the visitors from Montaj town the following morning.
After a refreshing bath, he donned a new white garment and majestic attire. He stepped outside his chamber, taking a stroll through the palace gardens, where the sweet fragrance of blooming flowers filled the air. He observed the horses being tended to by his staff, their gentle neighs filling the air like a symphony of joy. Although night still shrouded the palace, casting a mystical spell over the surroundings, various activities continued unabated.
Using his spiritual sense, Armad detected the presence of youths training in the distance, their auras flickering like flames in the wind. He realized that these young individuals had recently awakened their cores, likely a result of the judge’s successful plan. Armad estimated that there were over 300 people at the training ground, a testament to the judge’s effective methodology, a number that exceeded expectations.
Under the cover of night, Armad continued to explore his palace, utilizing a skill to conceal his form and move about unnoticed, like a ghost gliding through the shadows. He traversed the labyrinthine corridors, his footsteps silent on the marble floors, as he delved deeper into the mysteries of his domain. He eventually returned to his dining room, where a sumptuous feast awaited him, courtesy of the deva’s earlier instructions, a spread that would satiate even the most discerning palate. Armad savored the aromas wafting from the dishes, his senses heightened as he indulged in the meal with relish, finishing the entire spread with remarkable speed.
His enhanced cultivation power left him confident that no one would dare question him about the disappearance of the food, a testament to his growing prowess. After his meal, Armad changed into a fresh attire, donning robes that shimmered like the stars in the night sky, and proceeded to the meeting room, where he seated himself, his presence commanding attention. He requested historical books from his library, tomes that held the secrets of ages past, and immersed himself in their wisdom, the words on the pages coming alive in his mind’s eye. Time passed swiftly, as the night gave way to dawn, and the sun’s golden rays illuminated the world anew. Armad had already dispatched a deva to inform the judge of his intention to meet with the guests from Montaj.
Just as he had requested, the guests arrived before the sun reached its peak, at Armad's abode, their steps echoing in the quiet morning air. A group of nine individuals comprised their squad, yet it was only their leader who strode purposefully into the room where Armad awaited, a silent request for a private audience evident in his demeanor. Meanwhile, the remaining members of the squad, along with Armad's trusted judge and the vigilant deva standing guard, stationed themselves outside the door, their presence a subtle reminder of the importance of the impending meeting.
With a graciousness that bespoke humility rather than pride, Armad extended a warm welcome to his guests. "Welcome to the town of Tiriba," he greeted them, his voice carrying a tone of respect and hospitality.
Upon hearing Armad's words, a sense of relief washed over the man who had been waiting for two days. Although his initial displeasure at the delay lingered, the reassurance from Armad's judge regarding the pressing matters that occupied the young ruler's attention helped assuage his frustration. While harboring suspicions about the validity of the explanations provided for the delay, the man understood the necessity of patience, knowing that returning home without a meeting with Armad would only serve to displease his master. Despite his initial irritation towards Armad and the town of Tiriba for the prolonged wait, a small fraction of his anger dissipated upon hearing Armad's welcoming words. At that moment, a flicker of realization crossed his mind as he speculated that the young ruler before him might prove to be more pliable and easily influenced than the former kings who had once reigned over the region.
In response to Armad's inquiry about the purpose of his visit, the man offered a polite smile that barely masked his underlying apprehension. A shallow bow followed, executed with a practiced ease that belied the insincerity of the gesture. In the man's mind, the perceived discrepancy in the size and prominence of their respective domains justified his reluctance to offer full deference to Armad, despite the latter's royal status.
"My Lord, I am known as Liam, a council member of the esteemed King of Montaj," he began, his voice measured and respectful. "Our domain governs a cluster of twenty towns that lie near your own. I have undertaken this journey at the behest of my liege, who extends his heartfelt congratulations to you for your recent triumph over the former rulers of this region," Liam conveyed with a sense of formality and diplomacy.
Armad's countenance remained inscrutable as he listened to Liam's words, his expression betraying little of his thoughts or emotions. Silently, he inclined his head, a subtle gesture prompting Liam to continue with the purpose of his visit.
"My Lord, the secondary reason for my presence here carries both significance and routine," Liam continued, his words flowing with a sense of formality and deference. "It pertains to the tax levies that were once remitted to us by the former monarchs of this region. Previously, they allocated 70% of their monthly tax revenues to our coffers. However, recent directives from the ruling elites have necessitated a revision of this arrangement. As such, we now seek to claim 98% of the resources and taxes garnered within each monthly cycle, leaving a mere 2% for your indulgence,” Liam elucidated, his words flowing with a sense of formality and deference.