Chapter 9: Relentless Forge
Back in the cellar, Tyler grabbed a large bucket of water and dumped it over his head. The water cascaded down his body, turning milky white as it hit the ground, polluted by purged impurities.
After awakening his Sacral Core, Tyler's flesh had become free from any taint. Now, the white filth running from his body was the impurity being forced from his bones.
Cleansed of these old poisons, Tyler felt reinvigorated.
Prison warden Briggs now no longer dared to harass Tyler, not wanting another beating—a fact that made Tyler feel even better.
As night fell, Tyler resolved to train right there in his underground cell. He didn't want to waste a single moment, yet was unsure how to proceed. Then he remembered: in one corner of the cellar stood a thick, nearly two-meter-wide pillar of solid stone—almost impossible to damage. Tyler wrapped his bedding tightly around it.
This way, he could strike with full force and have most of the impact absorbed by solid rock, and the fabric would muffle the sound of his blows. So, in this underground prison, Tyler could train in secrecy—without anyone becoming the wiser.
The "Oxen's Thousand Fists" he practiced was a potent combat technique passed down for centuries in Silverdale. It was a secret art, never taught to outsiders.
Now that his Sacral Core had awakened, Tyler was finally able to pursue true mastery over Oxen's Thousand Fists—a state he'd never been able to reach before.
"Oxen's Thousand Fists, Fifth Stage!"
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Seven consecutive muffled smacks sounded against the pillar.
The Fifth Stage of Oxen's Thousand Fists was its pinnacle—attacks at maximum potency. Seven subdued booms meant seven strikes: when Tyler unleashed this secret, each punch landed on a foe as if seven mighty fists landed at once. But Tyler was still dissatisfied with the result.
His father had once told him that, upon reaching the Sacral Core, he'd be able to manifest all eight impacts in a single strike—yet Tyler had managed only seven. He still lacked full understanding of the fifth stage.
'Seems I still need more relentless practice!'
He continued to pound the mattress-wrapped pillar, each blow resonating with a dull thud.
Since awakening his Sacral Core, Tyler's strength had increased dramatically.
David Windrider had already reached the peak of Sacral Core himself, making the force of his punches easily surpass 600 kilograms. Tyler, having just entered the Sacral Core, managed a punch in the 400 to 500 kilogram range.
Not enough.
Most importantly, Tyler had to enter Seven Rivers Abbey.
Since learning that his little sister Jessica had been thrown into Blackrock Mountain, a heavy burden had hung on his heart.
'Jessica's always been such an obedient girl… I can't believe she would ever cause trouble there. She must have been framed.'
He had no choice—the only path to saving her lay through Seven Rivers Abbey. But for that, he needed to grow stronger and fast.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Against this pressure, Tyler's blows became even more formidable.
Seven Rivers Abbey was the grandest academy in the Onyx Empire. Every year, the empire's youth dreamed of earning admission.
All aspiring cultivators set their sights on Seven Rivers Abbey—for it housed the most advanced resources, the wisest teachers, and unrivaled power.
But the entry requirements were notoriously strict.
One needed either astonishing talent (like Jessica, whom the Abbey had accepted as an inner disciple), or formidable skill. Simply awakening the Sacral Core was not enough—admission required much more.
'My body gets stronger every day, but my improvement must become lightning-fast now. I need more intense training!'
With that thought, he hammered his fist against the stone pillar once more.
Whenever he learned something new, Tyler dedicated himself with total focus and relentless effort. He advanced, step by careful step, never cutting corners. Even his father had admired his determination.
But after his father's death—and after being made a slave—his spirit had been shattered, and cultivation had come to a standstill. Now, confidence restored, Tyler was ready to throw himself entirely toward his goal.
He didn't sleep that night.
He unleashed countless blows upon the mattress-wrapped pillar, until the bedding clung tight to the stone and required careful work to peel off and restore the pillar's normal form.
Tyler wanted to become stronger as fast as possible—he didn't care if he had to endure unending pain.
But asking Silverdale's disciples to beat him held its own risk. If he took so many blows day after day and emerged unscathed, it would raise suspicion—his strategy might be discovered.
Still, Tyler refused to let worry hold him back. His only option was to keep making his body tougher, to invite as many blows as he could—because that was his only way to rapid power.
A few disciples in Silverdale were honestly baffled. Why did Tyler keep getting himself beaten nearly to death? Did he actually enjoy pain?
But then they considered: after all these years used as a training dummy, Tyler was still alive. Had three years as an assistant and daily beatings not destroyed him, perhaps his vitality was simply superhuman.
Some even wondered about the secret behind Tyler's robust body—but whether or not he hid some secret technique, none dared ask.
Tyler was steadily nearing full purification of his bones. This time, when he rinsed off his body, the water that struck the floor turned almost milky, thick and white—like pouring concentrated milk, not water.
The quantity of impurities Tyler expelled in a single day was what a normal cultivator would purge in months. A day of beatings for Tyler equaled months of hard training for others—his progress was nothing short of miraculous.
By day, he let the disciples thrash him; by night, he practiced his combat arts. Not once did he rest—his focus was absolute.
These past days, he'd barely slept at all—not even ten hours in total. Yet he showed no signs of fatigue; his eyes remained clear and sharp as ever.
What kept him energized was the mysterious "Nine-Serpent Crucible" within his mind. The night it had purified his soul, the pain was worse than death itself.
But having endured that torment made his soul orders of magnitude stronger!
In the human body, it's the soul that is hardest to train. Anyone can build up their strength, but no one can see or directly touch the spirit—making it the greatest challenge in cultivation.
It was said that Seven Rivers Abbey held secret advanced arts able to strengthen the soul. Among these, "Soul Cleansing Method" was legendary.
But Tyler had no path to such mysterious places, nor time to worry over it. Instead, he resolved to forget about sleep and dedicate whatever hours he could spare to cultivation.
What happens next? Will Tyler's efforts pay off? Can he truly grow strong enough to escape Silverdale without fear? Find out in the next chapters…