Under immense pressure, one that a person might not even experience even when subjected under the weight of an entire mountain, a mortal body, even with the strength that already transcended the mundane, is bound to collapse with every resistance ending in nothing but futility.
This is exactly the reason why every single cultivator, no matter how high and how grand of a realm they reached, hold themselves back from crossing threshold, even minor ones, all of a sudden, all for the sake of preparing themselves the best they can in order to cross stages, and eventually, realms, safely, as breaking the barrier towards a new realm through the virtue of one's own strength is almost, if not always tantamount to a brain dead, no, brainless suicidal act.
Albeit not even breaking through to the next stage, even less a realm, it is exactly the kind of unwritten taboo that Argus, in all of his motivation to climb a far greater height that he once reached, had unknowingly committed, resulting in his experience right now, his entire body feeling an excruciating amount of pain far greater than what he had experienced during his breakthrough to the Body Refining Realm.
'Stay calm, it's already going surprisingly well compared to my original expectations…'
Bones creaking underneath the threat of the body, the flesh's constant expansion threatening to crush the foundation that give the body its shape, said flesh, due to constant expansion, ripping each fiber of muscle before forcefully stretching and connecting with where it should, a process of continuous creation and destruction that is controlled neither by the young man's own will nor by the unique abilities of the meridian he was supposed to rely on during this process.
Not mentioning the flesh and bones, even the young man's mind itself feels it is about to be torn apart by the violent waves of spirit energy brought about by the clashing circulation of both the Pure Heaven True Circulation Art and his Nine Stellar Palace Scripture, the two opposing force of guiding gentleness and extreme tyranny both going at it to establish dominance against each other, only for them to wreak worst havoc not only upon the cultivator's body, but upon the supposed greatest meridian for cultivation as well.
Indeed, even the Three Purities Origin Meridian, a treasure that is assumed to be nothing but a mere myth just because of the absurdity of the talent and potential granted by said meridian, is now struggling to contain that rampaging force that is the clash of flow between the two cultivation techniques, a clash that is impressive, yet dreadful enough, causes cracks to appear in front of what the young man thought is an indestructible meridian.
If there's something that he can call a silver lining in this current excruciating experience that he is having, it is the fact that, somehow, it is truly going well beyond his expectations, but based on that alone, it wasn't really a guarantee whether he would succeed in this endeavor or not.
After all, even with all the experience and wisdom brought by once being the greatest Grand Dao Sage to ever exist, his expectation wasn't really all that great, as to be exact, the expectation is him not dying from his body bursting within a few moments of him starting this daring, no, death-courting act.
And so time will pass, the types of pain that the young man is experiencing varying from the sensation of each and every fiber of his existence being torn apart only to be barely connected again, not enough for him to recover, but enough for his body, starting to get used to the torturous tearing, to forget the sensation for a few moment before it starts getting torn again, almost as if the process is making sure that he won't get used to the pain at all.
From time to time, the tearing sensation will be gone, but along with it will come an even more extreme of an experience, each of his nerve endings, perhaps due to the overload of his body or something else completely, will go complete haywire, forcing him to feel heat that feels as if he's being burned in the depth of a star, before it goes completely cold as if he's frozen deep within the emptiness of the void.
Had it been any other person than him, it would also be the time that those whispering voices would come to their mind.
"What if I fail?"
"Should I truly do this? What if there's no future for taking this path?"
"What will happen to everyone that rely on me?"
"What if I just got crippled instead of advancing?"
"Hahaha, you? Breaking through? What a joke, no matter what sort of genius you are, in the end, nothing will change, you won't admit it, but you're not that great, no, you're not even good at all."
"What if I die? What if I mess up? What if there's no longer anyone who will help me when I fail? Should I stop doing this? It hurts, it hurts so much, I just wish to make it stop…"
"Make it stop, there's no use struggling like this without a guarantee about what will happen in the future…"
"Yes, you should stop, just this realm is enough, we're all satisfied with this… you've already worked hard enough."
If one isn't completely prepared for their breakthrough, whether it is to the next minor stage or the next major realm, then it is true that every so often, one might hear voices whispering in their ears, taking form of the person who the cultivator feel emotion for the most, fear or perhaps terror, doubt and hesitation, cold comfort, momentary satisfaction, allure of safety, aversion to pain, extreme uncertainty.
Mental Demons.
All of them leading a cultivator to a path of no return, no, it won't even be called a path anymore, as the moment they entertain and indulge in those thoughts, they won't have the will to forge themselves forward anymore.
They will be nothing but a mere husk of their former selves, a suspended animation, a death in the form that is stagnancy itself.
But for those individuals who refuses to give into these indulgent thoughts, given enough strength and luck, they will be given the right to take another step once more, the reward of their persistence, strength that they never had before, along with the sense of achievement of developing oneself for yet another step, a little bit further from the starting point, a little bit closer to the true finish line.
Now, returning to the one currently breaking through, how is it that the greatest, yet possibly among the most miserable existence in all of creation, deals with the demons whispering in his ears?
If it's coming from an outside source, there will be no definite answer; the heavens wouldn't come to know, his mentors, his teachers, and masters wouldn't know if it, even if his closest companion in life wasn't told any of it.
It only makes sense, as the young man himself, at some point in his life, no longer experiences any of these challenges that poke through the deepest emotions a person can feel.
It isn't because he's some sort of cold and unfeeling bastard, no.
It also isn't because he's a great being that once attained what can be considered the peak of cultivation.
It is because mental demons, albeit being a concept rather than an existence, fear, no, dread, and despair in front of a person's unbreakable will.