C17 Under the Waterfall Bitter Cultivation Tempered Bone Stage

"Jiang Zhong's Tomb!"

After Jiang Zhong's death, Ling Dao laid him to rest, moving a giant stone to the site and using the Carefree Sword to etch a tombstone. Engraved upon it were four bold characters.

Nestled among pristine mountains and crystal-clear waters, the setting was picturesque, an apt resting place. With limited means at his disposal, Ling Dao had managed to erect only this modest grave. Since then, he had endured the elements, steadfast in his vigil beside Jiang Zhong.

"Rumble!"

The roar of the waterfall thundered, echoing to the heavens as it cascaded down from thousands of meters high. It was a tumultuous symphony, earth-shaking, reverberating in all directions. Beneath this mighty cascade stood a slender, fragile silhouette.

"Great Luo Dynasty, Celestial Sect, Killing House..."

The fall of the Free and Unfettered Wangfu, Jiang Zhong's desperate flight, the humiliation suffered within the Celestial Sect—these memories were etched in his mind, as vivid as if they had occurred just yesterday. To seek vengeance for the Duke's guards and for Jiang Zhong, he knew he must grow stronger.

For a month, he had withstood the pounding waterfall daily. From initially enduring mere moments to now withstanding the full day, the ordeal had been grueling. Only his indomitable will had carried him through.

"Phew..."

As dusk fell and the sun dipped below the horizon, Ling Dao exhaled deeply, stepping away from the waterfall's base. His skin was flushed a deep crimson, as though stained with blood, giving him a somewhat eerie appearance.

"Desolate Immortal Slaying Force!"

Despite the pain and fatigue, he forewent rest, channeling the Desolate Immortal Slaying Force. It was the prime moment to fortify his body, an opportunity he wouldn't let slip by. With an abundance of sword qi within him, he could temper his body anytime, anywhere.

Should anyone witness the state of his interior, they would be astounded. Each bone was as translucent as jade, yet unimaginably sturdy. His skeleton had become densely compact, adorned with ancient runes that spoke of an age-old power.

After surpassing the Body Tempering Realm, Ling Dao entered the Bone Tempering Realm. Within a mere month, he had transcended the Body Tempering Realm and commenced the tempering of his entire skeletal structure. The Desolate Immortal Slaying Force, a cultivation technique of unparalleled caliber, revealed its daunting power only through earnest practice, as Ling Dao was now discovering.

In his past life, as a scion of the Ling Family, he practiced their ancestral techniques. Though the Ling Family paled in comparison to the Purple Vine Holy Land, it was still far superior to forces like the Celestial Sect and the Great Luo Dynasty. Yet, even the Ling Family's methods fell short when measured against the Desolate Immortal Slaying Force.

It made perfect sense why the Purple Vine Holy Land relentlessly pursued him upon learning he possessed the Desolate Immortal Slaying Force. Such a supreme technique was likely beyond even their reach, and even if they could find it, they lacked the means to cultivate it.

One had to start cultivating the Desolate Immortal Slaying Force from scratch; previous cultivation of other techniques rendered it impossible to take up. This explained why Ling Dao couldn't access the technique in his former life, yet fate had granted him the opportunity to cultivate it in this one.

Two hours later, bathed in moonlight that cascaded through the forest like liquid silver, Ling Dao completed his cultivation. With a bound, he soared dozens of meters, a testament to his formidable physical strength—a feat utterly unimaginable for his former self.

Soon after, Ling Dao captured a wild boar for his evening meal. His intense cultivation had significantly increased his appetite. He didn't just cleanse himself under waterfalls but also collided with boulders, forging his body as one would temper a sword through relentless hammering.

"Grandpa Jiang, I've reached the bone-honing stage of a Jing Wuzhe. It may not be long before I break through again. How wonderful it would be if you were still here... Sigh..."

Bathed in starlight, Ling Dao stood before Jiang Zhong's tombstone, speaking softly to himself. Now, he was capable of cultivating, possessing an unparalleled technique like the Desolate Immortal Slaying Force, which promised a future of remarkable achievements. Sadly, Jiang Zhong was no longer there to witness it, a truly regrettable loss.

"Rest assured, I won't seek vengeance without sufficient strength. The Great Luo Dynasty and the Celestial Sect amount to little. It won't be long before I make them rue their past actions!"

Perspectives change with different experiences. To Jiang Zhong, the Great Luo Dynasty was the epitome of power. Yet, Ling Dao, who had the audacity to storm into the formidable Purple Vine Holy Land, considered the Dynasty trivial in comparison.

"After tonight, I'll likely have to leave this place. I'm off to the Sky-splitting Sword Sect to deliver your letter to your brother. Becoming a disciple there would be ideal."

Standing by Jiang Zhong's grave, Ling Dao was the picture of solitude. His mother had departed early from his life, and his father, King Carefree, had ventured into the Celestial Dragon Forbidden Area, vanishing for over a year. Jiang Zhong had been his closest confidant, and now, he too was gone.

Now, he was utterly alone, without a single family member to turn to. From here on out, he would have to rely solely on himself. With King Carefree around, he had someone to shelter him, but now, there was no telling if the king was dead or alive.

That night, Ling Dao lay next to Jiang Zhong's grave, gazing up at the star-studded sky, occasionally speaking to Jiang Zhong. Regrettably, there would be no response; he was left to converse with the silence.

"Remember, don't let hatred blind you, nor allow it to rob you of your reason," King Carefree's image seemed to say, appearing before Ling Dao with a grave tone. Long ago, King Carefree had perceived the deep-seated hatred in Ling Dao's heart. Though the reason was unknown to him, he never probed too deeply. If not for his profound loathing of the Purple Vine Holy Land, Ling Dao wouldn't have recklessly charged into their domain.

"Promise me, before you're strong enough, never seek revenge! Promise me!"

Jiang Zhong's voice echoed in Ling Dao's ears, the memory of that moment crystal clear. Even at death's door, Jiang Zhong's thoughts were for Ling Dao, not himself. Recalling those words, Ling Dao's mind was flooded with memories of their time together. Jiang Zhong had watched over him like a grandfather, witnessing his growth every step of the way.

"Is it morning already?"

Ling Dao couldn't pinpoint the moment he'd drifted off. Had it not been for the sunlight warming his face, he might have continued to sleep deeply. With a heavy heart, he cast one last glance at Jiang Zhong's tombstone before turning to leave.

"Grandpa Jiang, I'm off!"

He couldn't predict when he'd return, but he was compelled to go. At present, he was merely a bone-honing fighter, far from matching the might of formidable forces like the Great Luo Dynasty or the Celestial Sect.

His destination: Anshan County, home of the Sky-splitting Sword Sect.