"Ouch! Aw! FUCK! Shit—DAMN IT! OUCH—FFUUUUCK!!!"
The pain wasn't just agony—it was annihilation. Lordi Payne's mind shattered under its weight, thoughts erased as the tornt unmade him from within. It clawed awake in his bones first—a searing, splintering grind, as if his skeleton were being pulverized by a thousand unseen hamrs. Then it surged outward, a ravenous flood of molten anguish that devoured his flesh, seeping into his organs like liquid lava forged in so abyssal crucible. Every nerve ignited; every inch of skin wailed as the pain burrowed deeper, wider, vaster.
Oen Shinae had warned him—the Dao Fla fusion was a crucible of excruciating pain. He'd shrugged it off, her words drifting past like a faint breeze in the mire's skeletal hush.
Why heed her? He'd forged his ttle in the Bone Tempering Art, clawing to the second layer of Qi Refinent with no pills, no boosters—just sheer, ironclad will.
Picture it: shattering every bone in your body, a self-inflicted storm of fractures, all while juggling the spiritual Qi in the dantian under Bone Tempering Art to stitch yourself back together. That was pain—grueling, relentless, a trial he'd endured with gritted teeth and a defiant snarl. So how could this Dao Fla, fierce as it was, rival that? He'd survived the Bone Tempering Art's hell—nothing could break him.
Or so he'd thought.
Now, as the Ice Pith Fire ravaged him, Lordi Payne realized his arrogance had been a fool's shield. Compared to this—a tornt that flayed soul and sinew alike—the Bone Tempering Art was a gentle whisper, a fleeting caress, a perverse kind of bliss.
The Bone Tempering Art had been a brutal forge—flesh torn, bones cracked—a raw, grinding pain that seared through his body at first. But it was mortal, confined to at and marrow, and in ti, he'd grown numb, his nerves dulled to its sting.
This Dao Fla Fusion? This was no re flesh-wound agony. The Ice Pith Fire clawed from the depths of his soul, a primal, marrow-born tornt that gnashed at his very essence, as if the abyss itself had sunk teeth into his being.
It struck like a lightning bolt—a chain of horrors unfurling in his gut. His stomach lurched, a scalding wave of bile surging up his throat, bitter and molten, choking him as it rose and fell. Sweat burst from his pores, drenching his face and spine—not from strain, but from the sheer, animal shock of his body unraveling. The fire beneath his skin devoured it instantly, baking the sweat to vapor in a hiss.
The world spun, tilting on a jagged edge. His vision sared into a haze, dizziness clawing at his skull as his nerves scread, overwheld by the trauma's relentless tide.
For a few terrible seconds, the pain ebbed, but this was no relief—it's a trap. The mind, still reeling, knew another wave's coming. The fear was paralyzing, worse than the pain itself, because the body rembered what just happened and braced for it to return.
Then it hits again, this ti deeper, like countless venomous spikes slowly drilling the skulls from every angle, like rusty vices fiercely hamred removing each tooth and nail. The pain didn't relent—it pulsed in cruel waves, each crest a new blade. Just as one ebbed, teasing relief, another crashed in—a deep, throbbing anguish that squeezed his lungs, each breath a labored rasp. His abdon seized, cramping as if phantom talons twisted his guts, poured boiling lava into his gut, a searing flood that left him hollow and raw.
Dizzied by agony, mories flashed before Lordi Payne's eyes—
He even recalled his lecture tour to the Artifact Forge Peak, the ticulous teachings on Spirit Soul Enchantnt Through Soul Torture.
Now, he understood.
At last, he grasped why the souls of demon beasts—those bound into Dao Artifacts as weapon spirits or enslaved as artifact guardians—always broke.
If they endured even a fraction of the tornt wracking his body now, surrender wasn't just likely—it was inevitable. Resistance? Unthinkable.
Pain like this rewrote instinct. It hollowed out defiance, leaving only raw, animal submission in its wake.
And in this mont, Lordi Payne finally comprehended the true aning of soul torture.
"Ouch! Calm down—FUCK! Distract—I need to distract!" Lordi Payne roared in his skull. This pain—burrowing into his bones, gnawing at his soul—defied words, a howling abyss that language couldn't cage.
The AllFullOS System held his body in an iron grip, stitching the Ice Pith Fire into him with cold, unyielding control. Death might be off the table, but sanity? That was slipping, fraying with every pulse of tornt. If this kept up, he'd snap—reduced to a gibbering wreck clawing at the mire's shadows.
"AWWW! Shit—think! Sothing, quick! What the hell do I—" His mind scrambled, clawing for an anchor. "Fairy Lith—yes! OUCH! Fairy Lith!"
"What went down with her? I FFFUUUCK!! I forced her—details, damn it..." His thoughts lurched, desperate. "What happened between us? OUCH! Yeah—I forced her—FFFUUCK!!!—back then. Shit, what did I do? The exact steps..."
Gritting through the agony, Lordi Payne dragged his mind to that day—the violation, the raw, jagged mory of Fairy Lith beneath his will. He replayed it, fra by fra. The tornt ravaging his body dulled, just a hair—a faint reprieve as the dark recollection wrestled the pain's edge into a corner.
anwhile, the AllFullOS system churned on, fusing the Ice Pith Fire in his body with chanical precision.
——
As ti trickled by, in front of Oen Shinae, Fang Jit, and Sharky Ink's tense stares, Lordi Payne sat calmly, his face stayed serene—no muscle twitched, his deanor relaxed, almost casual, as he taming the Dao Fla with languid ease.
The whole process was steady and poised, and even revealed a mastery grace that only cos from extre proficiency.
This caused a new uproar shockwave in the hearts of the three inner sect disciples who had just marvelled at Lordi Payne's talent.
"Such peerless conviction! Such unbreakable willpower!" Oen Shinae's mind churned, her awe clawing past her usual frost-hardened shell. She'd shielded Lordi Payne on this trek, even punished Sharky Ink under her heel for him—but that was duty as her blind loyalty to the Bloodline Lord's command, not so soft favor for this outer sect whelp.
Yet now, gazing at Lordi Payne's serene visage, a tremor of reverence moved her mind, shook her core.
She'd never fused a Dao Fla herself, but she'd stood as Kinson Wexford's cultivation guardian when the Bloodline Lord claid his own. Back then, Kinson Wexford, the Bloodline Lord—already Foundation Stage, a titan obsessed with his regal facade, a ruler who maintain his imposing presence as number one priority—had buckled. Writhing in the dirt, tears and snot streaking Kinson Wexford's face, he'd been a ss of anguish, dignity shredded.
It is said by inner seniors that the Bloodline Lord's situation at that ti was already considered as relatively decent and graceful.
Stories whispered of cultivators undone by the agony pain—So even incontinence in public due to excessive pain during this process, shad by filth, and the chaos was once out of control."
"After been through all this fusion, this Lordi Payne remains utterly unshaken!"
"Under such great pain, even if he was secretly screaming inside, even if this composure was a facade for youth and pride's sake—to mask it so perfectly was a feat of iron will beyond ordinary cultivators."
"Excellent talent, rock-solid willpower, and still so young! No wonder the Bloodline Lord shows such prejudice favor to this Junior brother so much. As long as this junior brother Lordi Payne doesn't fall during the cultivation path to Great Dao, he will definitely rise and have a solid status in the Inner Sect without question."
A realization struck Oen Shinae.
"If I were Kinson Wexford, spotting such a talented genius, I too would pour every resource into such a gem.
Her gaze hardened, searing Lordi Payne's image into her mind.
This Outer Sect Junior Brother... is worth rembering.
——
Compared to Oen Shinae's delight and relief, Fang Jit and Sharky Ink were so regretful that they almost choked with blood.
Fang Jit tasted sothing far more acrid - the tallic tang of regret so potent it threatened to choke him. His nails bit into his palms as he watched, each droplet of blood welling up mirroring the searing envy in his chest.
"How the fuck is this possible?!" The scream tore through his mind like a shattered spiritual Dao Artifact. "How can there be such a person in the world?! Talent I could stomach—the abyss bless whom they will, just like Sect Successors of our holy sect, and there are many prides genius disciples of other franctions and sects. But this... this unshakable will? This impossible composure? I don't believe it! I can't fucking believe it! If this brat is the offspring of those high-status clans, it is natural that he has been cultivated since childhood. He is obviously just a gutter rat nobody from a lowlife clan in Deerspring. How the fuck does he have such talents?!"
"Hugo Payne, his Clan Brother, that worthless clan heir, grovels in the outer sect mud after years of cultivation! Yet this... this whoreson side-branch trash gets the Bloodline Lord's favor after re weeks?! Fuck? This Lordi Payne should rot beside that piece of rubbish. How could this Lordi Payne? How could he even fuse the Ice Pith Fire so easily like it's nothing!"
"Cheat. Fraud. He must be. Fuck this lier. This brat must have mastered the Pyro Fusion Art ages ago!"
"Yes, he must be. This filthy brat must have practiced the Pyro Fusion Art secretly like countless tis. Now he just wants to use our mouths to spread rumor about today and make him beco famous in the Outer Sect so that he can be valued by so holy sect's top leaders."
Fang Jit told himself again and again in his heart that Lordi Payne's current performance must be problematic.
But even if Lordi Payne had obtained the Pyro Fusion Art beforehand, the calmness he showed during this Dao Fla fusing mont was enough to make Fang Jit feel suffocated. No amount of preparation could forge such effortless mastery. The realization hit him like a Dao blade to the dantian.
"If I had not offended this junior brother, but protected and cradled this Lordi Payne like Oen Shinae did, what kind of reward would I get once this Junior Brother Payne rose strong in the future?"
"Fuck! I've made a terrible mistake..." But now Too late. Fang Jit's forehead was sweating, and he even began to vent his anger on Sharky Ink. The once-friendly sect comrade face now morphing into a convenient scapegoat in his mind.
"If I had not listen to Sharky Ink's repeatedly complaint in private about how the Bloodline Lord was fooled or silly this ti, why did Lordi Payne have such a great rit to make the entire Deathveil Bloodline pay such a high price for this mission. How and why would I dislike Lordi Payne and even sneer at him from the first sight?"
"There's ti—I still have a chance." Fang Jit wiped the cold sweat off his forehead, sched, "I will accuse and report Senior Brother Sharky later and confess to Senior Sister Oen and Lordi Payne that I was simply deceived by his venom words."
"Lordi Payne is only at the Qi Refinent Stage now, and it'll take amount of ti before him could ascend to the Inner Sect. Let coddle him more in the future, and yes we will be able to turn hostility into friendship."
"Besides, I can ask the Bloodline Lord and Senior Sister Oen to help intercede, plead my case."
"I'll fix this. I have to."
Fang Jit thought so, stabbed a glance at Sharky Ink outside the array formation with a sinister, venomous look. He wiped his damp palms on his cloak, already rehearsing his contrite speech in his mind.
——
Outside the array formation, Sharky Ink seethed, his mind a cauldron of boiling resentnt. Every beat of his heart pumped fresh venom through his veins. "A genius like this, and you kept it a secret to us? If you'd just said—if I'd known this wasn't so desperate gamble, but a calculated move for a true prodigy—! I'm a god damn old vetaran of the Deathveil Bloodline, how could I not support your decision?"
"Boll down to the root cause, bla Bloodline Lord! Kinson Wexford didn't trust enough. I've bled for the Deathveil Bloodline for decades. And this is how you repay my loyalty?"
"In that case, why bla for defection. No wonder the Wraithbone Bloodline's knives gleam sharper than your empty promises."?"
"Where are Wraithbone's n? Did Bloodline Lord Miu abandon too? Or is this cursed abyss swallowing even my last hope?"
"Damn it, look at him. Just look! Is this brat destined to rise? Seeing how smoothly this Lordi Payne absorbs the Dao Fla into his body, I'm afraid he will be able to subdue the Ice Pith Fire in a while. Now that I am chained and prisioned by Bone Bloom Curse, I dare not leave behind any chase signal to guide the Wraithbone Bloodline. By the ti they sniff their way here, Oen Shinae had already taken this brat away. The Wraithbone Bloodline couldn't find any trace in this vast Gworm Abyss. Wouldn't it let him escape free and even soar to the High Road of Great Dao from then on?!"
"The fuck can I do?"
Sharky Ink was at a loss, mix regretful emotion with shocked, angry, and jealous while he's chained and prisioned and he could only curse repeatedly and venomously. The fury twisted into sothing uglier. "Backlash! Damn you! Dao Fla is about to backlash! Damn it, the Ice Pith Fire is supposed to be the top precious Dao Fla among all the eighth-tier, why are you so feeble useless? Burn him! Tear him apart! Even a whelp in the Qi Refinent stage can easily absorb you?! Fucking shaful! Fucking pathetic!."
"What, were you fucking bred to be so bastard's leash-licker?"
"Pathetic motherfucker—both of you deserve each other's goddamn stench!"
——
Lordi Payne had no idea about the trio thinking. He was now fully focused, his entire being was fixated on one thing alone—the intoxicating mory of Fairy Lith's embrace and moan. He thought about the process details of dual cultivation with Fairy Lith, and replayed the mory over and over again. Only by drowning in these carnal visions could he endure the Ice Pith Fire's tornt.
Yet even fantasy had its limits.
His thoughts blurred at the edges, consciousness flickering like a guttering candle. The world tilted, his mind teetering on the brink of collapse—
—well, the AllFullOS system yanked him back, its chanical grip ensuring he hovered just above faint or blackout.
Then, just as a new wave of great pain threatened to consu him whole—
A shiver of ease coolness blood from deep in his bone marrow.
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