So this is the supreme method for tempering the physical body.

Even without relying on the fist momentum of the Subtle Realm, as long as one can enter the state of extreme stillness and silence, and use the mind to inscribe the fist momentum above the soul sea, one can still absorb the vital energy and divine essence to manifest the barbarian soul...

Arthur Green and the Julian Ford cultivator Ryan Hill both practice martial and true cultivation. Aside from differences in their cultivation methods, there is actually no essential distinction between them—this is quite good!

Having figured all this out, Ethan Brooks couldn't help but feel a bit proud:

Even if the visualization secret technique is an untransmittable secret of the major sects in Julian Ford, so what?

Though he was pleased with himself, Ethan Brooks's mind remained focused on the manifestation of the barbarian soul.

At this moment, time stood still, space stood still, only the vital energy circulated faster through every bone, as if golden glimmers were devouring the medicinal power released by the Black Python Pill.

It seemed that with every moment, his vital energy grew stronger.

It seemed that with every moment, a continuous stream of subtle divine essence overflowed from his blood and energy, and the humanoid light and shadow condensed from true blood and divine essence became even more solid, with even the eyebrows and eyes on the face faintly taking shape...

At this moment, Ethan Brooks's heart was filled with boundless longing for the Sky Barbarians.

He didn't know how much time had passed before he finally emerged from this state of extraordinary clarity of consciousness, yet as if trapped in a dream.

In that instant, the barbarian soul that had appeared above his soul sea shattered into countless fragments of light, dispersing into his limbs and bones.

Every muscle, bone, and piece of flesh in his body seemed to be singing with joy, frantically absorbing nourishment from those countless tiny fragments of light...

The Black Python Pill in his mouth had long since dissolved, his arms were filled with surging strength, his heartbeat became steadier and more powerful, his vital energy was brimming with vigorous life force, and though the light in the hut was dim, Ethan Brooks felt as if his vision was clear as day.

Comparing this to his previous method of pushing his body to its limits, Ethan Brooks secretly felt that this night's cultivation had achieved the results of several months. Judging by the fullness of strength in his arms alone, he seemed not much weaker than a newly advanced mid-level barbarian warrior.

This little hut was really too cramped to stretch his limbs; otherwise, Ethan Brooks truly wanted to try unleashing all the power of the barbarian soul's divine essence to see just how formidable it was.

It was fortunate that Elder Edward Clark hadn't seen this. If Edward Clark knew that Ethan Brooks had, in just half a day, condensed the barbarian soul to the point where even the eyebrows and beard were faintly visible, and had completely absorbed and digested the medicinal power of a Black Python Pill, his jaw would probably drop in shock again.

Grandpa Clark said that since he had already awakened the barbarian soul, even if he advanced to a mid-level barbarian warrior, Ethan Brooks thought that the key to cultivation from now on was to gradually use the true blood and divine essence to temper all the muscles, bones, and flesh of his body...

Chapter 009: I Am Not a Little Kid

At this time, the village was filled with laughter and joy. Judging by the light coming through the cracks in the wall, it was already dusk—time had passed so quickly. The soul sacrifice beast feast was about to begin, and outside, the clansmen of the Black Python Tribe had already started singing and dancing.

Ethan Brooks did not rush out of the hut. The wondrous feeling brought by cultivation had come unexpectedly, and he wanted to savor it. After a while, he finally stepped out of the hut and walked toward the stone hall.

In the distance, the mountain peaks were shrouded in rosy twilight, with faint sounds of beastly roars and bird calls drifting over.

Bonfires were lit all over the square, their light flickering on the stone walls, casting moving shadows.

The stone hall was held in the highest esteem in the village; it was the place where the Black Python Tribe held meetings and worshipped the ancestral barbarian spirits.

Ethan Brooks was not a member of the Black Python Tribe. Though he had lived in the village for three years, he had never had the chance to set foot inside the stone hall.

At the center of the square in front of the stone hall stood a massive altar built from giant stones, nearly ten meters high and over a hundred meters in circumference, towering in the middle of the square—more grand and imposing than even the stone hall itself.

In front of the altar, the people of the Black Python Tribe had stacked countless round pine logs layer upon layer to form a pyre, almost as tall as the altar.

On either side of the pyre stood two enormous wooden stakes, with a thick rope stretched between them, suspending a huge bronze cauldron, as tall as a person, above the pyre.

The Black Python Tribe lacked iron and bronze implements; even most of the able-bodied men wielded stone knives and wooden spears when they went out hunting with the barbarian warriors. Ethan Brooks had never expected that such a large bronze cauldron was hidden in the village.

The cauldron hung by its two handles from the thick rope, and its four sides were carved with images of birds, beasts, and various barbarian script never seen before in Mangya Ridge, giving it an air of great antiquity and mystery. No one knew how many years ago this ancient artifact had been passed down; it was probably usually kept deep within the ancestral shrine of the stone hall, only brought out for the grand sacrificial ceremonies.

Grandpa Clark said that the Black Python Tribe once had a glorious history. Just looking at this giant cauldron, Ethan Brooks believed that Grandpa Clark was definitely not making things up.

At this moment, Samuel Clark was directing people, passing clay jars filled with mountain spring water hand to hand, pouring them into the bronze cauldron; at the same time, others were bringing out countless rare herbs collected in the village and tossing them into the cauldron.

Could it be that the soul sacrifice beast feast was simply about cooking the flesh and blood of the Black-Scaled Jiao and sharing it with everyone?

Beast feast, beast feast—a banquet of beast meat.

But if it was just about cooking the jiao beast meat and sharing it, was there really a need to make it so grand?

As Ethan Brooks pondered this, Henry Clark suddenly popped out from some corner, grabbed him, and asked:

"Ethan, where have you been hiding all day? You haven't shown your face, and Grandpa wouldn't let me come find you either?"

Henry Clark was too straightforward by nature, and as a youngster, he couldn't keep secrets. That was why Grandpa Clark had specifically instructed that the matter of the silk scrolls and such must never be told to him; not to mention, there were eight or nine followers behind Henry Clark, and they were even less capable of keeping secrets.