Merin smiles.

With the principles of the Law of Strength now clear in his mind, he knows exactly what he can do.

He does not need the law itself to wield power yet. He only needs its logic, its structure, its underlying rules.

From those principles, he can create techniques.

Techniques that do not rely on higher realms.

Techniques that refine the body itself.

He intends to cultivate the Outer Qi Refining Realm to an unprecedented level, far beyond what is considered reasonable, far beyond what the world expects. When he eventually advances into the Origin Seal Realm, he will not crawl forward step by step. He will surge straight to its peak and then break through into the Soul Awakening Realm in a single motion.

That kind of advance will not be gentle.

An unprecedented tribulation will descend.

And if his body is not strong enough, it will shatter.

Strength, therefore, is not optional.

He rises from the bed, the faint morning light still slanting through the doorway. This is not the time to create techniques or begin transformation. Not here. Not now.

Outside, his guards are already gathered, silent and prepared.

Mosa approaches and bows slightly.

“Lord Duan, please wait a while. The tribe is preparing morning food.”

Merin shakes his head.

“No need.”

He steps forward and, with Mosa escorting him, leaves the valley. At the cave entrance, Merin pauses briefly.

“Leader Mosa,” he says, “make a list of tribes you believe can be cooperated with.”

Mosa nods without hesitation.

Merin does not linger.

With his guards, he breaks into a run, their figures quickly vanishing into the mountain paths as they head toward Gatewatch Peak Town.

They arrive late at night.

The town walls loom ten meters high, dark and silent. Without slowing, Merin leaps, his body clearing the wall in a single smooth motion. His guards follow, landing soundlessly on the other side.

They move through the sleeping streets like shadows.

At the residence prepared by the family, Merin enters without ceremony. He informs the housekeeper briefly.

“I am entering a cultivation retreat. Do not disturb me.”

The doors close behind him.

Inside his room, Merin sits and begins to analyse the principles of the Law of Strength.

This is not the first time he has touched this law.

In the past, outside the Human World, in the Supreme World, and in other realms, he has comprehended different expressions of strength. Those principles are foreign here, shaped by other laws, other worlds, other origins.

Now, he carefully disassembles them.

One principle at a time.

He strips them down to their core and compares them to the native Law of Strength he sensed from the mammoth totem. Slowly, patiently, he fuses them together, discarding contradictions, reinforcing similarities, smoothing incompatibilities.

Foreign becomes native.

Native becomes complete.

When the fusion finishes, he does not stop.

His goal is not comprehension.

It is an application.

Merin turns inward.

He begins applying the principles of the Law of Strength to his own body.

The change does not happen all at once.

It starts at the smallest scale.

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Within his body, his cells begin to respond.

Not by growing larger.

Not by evolving into something higher.

But by reorganising.

Each cell adjusts its internal structure, refining how energy is stored, released, and transferred. The membranes thicken microscopically, not to harden, but to stabilise. The internal frameworks align, reducing waste, reducing friction, reducing loss.

It is like tuning an engine.

His muscles do not grow, but the fibres within them realign, allowing force to travel cleanly through every strand without dispersion. Where once strength bled away into inefficiency, now it flows in a single, uninterrupted direction.

His bones change next.

Not becoming denser, but becoming smarter.

Microstructures within the bone subtly reshape, distributing stress evenly instead of concentrating it. Impact that would once have caused fractures now spreads through the skeleton and dissipates harmlessly.

His tendons and ligaments follow, adjusting elasticity and tension, achieving a balance that allows explosive force without damage.

Blood circulation shifts.

Each heartbeat becomes more efficient, delivering oxygen and nutrients exactly where needed, precisely when needed, without delay or excess. His organs subtly reposition, optimising internal space, ensuring no movement is wasted.

From the outside, Merin looks the same.

No swelling.

No glow.

No visible sign of power.

But inside, his body is transforming into a perfect machine.

Every movement now has purpose.

Every contraction delivers maximum output.

Every action draws upon the full potential of his cultivation realm.

The Law of Strength does not elevate his life level.

It does not make him immortal.

It does not grant longevity or regeneration.

What it does is remove limitations.

At the Outer Qi Refining Realm, his body now releases strength at the absolute theoretical maximum possible for that realm. Nothing is held back. Nothing is lost.

If struck by tribulation lightning in the future, his body will not crumble from inefficiency or weakness.

It will endure.

Merin remains seated, unmoving, as the transformation continues layer by layer, cell by cell, system by system.

Like a machine assembling itself into perfection.

When the transformation finishes, Merin slowly inspects his body.

The result surprises him, not because it is weak, but because it is restrained.

His base physical strength has not increased by much.

Less than ten per cent.

Yet the difference lies elsewhere.

Previously, even at full exertion, his body could only release a fraction of its true potential. Strength leaked away through inefficiency, misalignment, and internal resistance. Now, without relying on any technique, he can apply nearly thirty per cent of his physical strength naturally.

That alone is already terrifying.

And if he channels his powerful spirit, he can force his body to release one hundred per cent of its physical strength.

But that method has a cost.

Spirit power is consumed rapidly when used as a bridge to force the body beyond its natural limit. In prolonged combat or during tribulation, that inefficiency could become fatal.

So Merin does not leave his retreat.

He sits back down.

What he needs now is a technique.

A method that allows his body to release one hundred per cent of its physical strength as naturally as breathing, without consuming spirit power, without strain, without conscious effort.

The base has already been laid.

Now he builds the foundation.

As he constructs the technique, he does not separate theory from practice. Every step he designs, he immediately applies to his own body. Every adjustment is tested the moment it forms. If there is an error, he will feel it instantly, before it can compound.

The transformation resumes.

This time, the changes are subtler, far more delicate.

Within his cells, internal structures shift again, but now the focus is not output, but control. Microscopic pathways reorganise, forming natural channels that guide force instead of resisting it. Muscle fibres learn to engage fully without external command, responding automatically to intent rather than instruction.

The boundaries between thought and motion blur.

His nervous system refines itself, signal transmission accelerating, unnecessary delays stripped away. Commands that once travelled as impulses now feel like inevitabilities, action occurring the instant intention forms.

Even deeper, cellular membranes adjust their responsiveness. Instead of requiring spiritual energy to activate dormant capacity, they begin to self-regulate, unlocking strength in precise increments based on need.

No waste.

No overflow.

No loss.

His bones, already optimised for stress distribution, adapt further, learning to support full-force exertion repeatedly without fatigue accumulation. Tendons synchronise perfectly with muscle contraction, preventing backlash preventing injury.

The body becomes self-consistent.

Breathing changes.

Each inhale subtly primes his entire system. Each exhale releases micro-tension, resetting balance. Strength no longer spikes; it flows.

When the transformation completes, Merin opens his eyes.

He moves his fingers.

The sensation is different.

Not heavier.

Not stronger.

Clearer.

He feels unprecedented control over his body, control so fine that it reaches the cellular level even without spirit power. He does not need to “activate” strength anymore. It is simply there, ready, responding instinctively to will.

One hundred per cent strength.

As effortless as breathing.

Yet Merin does not end his retreat.

Because new ideas are already forming.

Strength alone is not enough.

The tribulation he anticipates will not only test force, but endurance, vitality, and existence itself. To face it safely, his life level must rise.

And for that, he understands two laws.

The Law of Dragon.

The Law of Transformation.

In countless worlds, he has seen the myth repeated in different forms, the nine transformations of the true dragon. An ordinary snake. A fish struggling against the current. A creature that sheds form again and again until it becomes something that commands heaven and earth.

He is human.

So the path will be different.

But the principle remains.

Transformation through stages.

Life level ascending step by step.

With these two laws, he can design a physical cultivation technique that does not merely strengthen the body, but elevates its very nature. Not immortality, but something close. Not divinity, but extraordinariness.

His goal is clear.

To reach the third stage of the extraordinary body.

Or at the very least, half-step into it.

The Soul Awakening Realm corresponds to the third stage of extraordinary existence. If his body reaches that level first, then the tribulation to advance into the Origin Seal Realm, a realm half a stage below, will no longer be a threat.

With that understanding, Merin begins to create the technique.

This time, however, he does not practice it.

He only designs.

He dissects the laws, aligns principles, constructs frameworks, and simulates outcomes entirely within his mind. This technique will reshape life itself. One mistake could destroy his foundation.

So he proceeds slowly.

Carefully.

Patiently.

The retreat deepens.

And Merin does not emerge.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep