C15 Domineering Body

The following morning, Qin Ming shook his groggy head awake. As soon as his eyes fluttered open, he caught Elder Chu staring at him as if he were looking at a madman.

"What's the matter?" Qin Ming inquired, puzzled.

"Do you realize how long it's been since the tournament started? Just one day, a single day." The large black and white dog was overly dramatic, expressing its disbelief.

Qin Ming gasped sharply. He was well aware of his extraordinary healing abilities, but the wounds he sustained in the previous day's selection contest were more severe than those from his duel with Qin Hu. Yet, his recovery rate had doubled.

"What on earth is your physique? It's truly remarkable," Elder Chu said, his brow furrowed. He had never encountered such a physique in the Nine Heavens.

"Well, it's a positive thing, isn't it?" Unlike Elder Chu, Qin Ming was not bewildered; he was brimming with optimism.

But Elder Chu couldn't let it go. "Is it possible that as your strength has grown, so too has your physique?"

Qin Ming had only recently advanced to the Second Phase of the Spirit Founding Stage, and now he had reached the Fourth Phase. His healing speed had nearly doubled as well. Qin Ming himself would not chalk it up to mere coincidence.

"No, a person's physique should correlate with their body's resilience, not directly with their cultivation level," Elder Chu concluded, still puzzled. "What kind of physique is this, then?"

Qin Ming paid no further attention to Elder Chu. He was ravenous, feeling as if his body had been emptied, and he desperately needed to eat.

Elder Chu continued to mutter to himself until his eyes bulged with an incredulous look.

At last, Elder Chu whispered, "Domineering Body."

"Domineering Body?" Qin Ming mumbled, his mouth full of food, making his words nearly unintelligible.

"This is the stuff of legends, the strongest physique, combining eight exceptional physiques into one. It grows stronger as the body does and is exceedingly rare. In Ancient Times, there was a villain who caused chaos in the Nine Heavens and was ultimately defeated by Emperor Luangu."

These unique physiques cannot be passed down; they are one of a kind. The Nine Heavens and Ten Earths will never witness the same physique twice at the same time. Each one only emerges in another fortunate individual after the demise of its previous bearer.

"Which eight types of exceptional physiques?" Qin Ming inquired, puzzled. So far, he was only aware of three: the Indestructible Body, Green Essence Pill Body, and Hundred Poison Spirit Body.

"Those are ancient legends. I'm not sure exactly which eight types exist. We can only uncover them by relentlessly unlocking the Domineering Body's potential."

Qin Ming felt a surge of excitement. The fusion of eight exceptional physiques within the Domineering Body truly made it the supreme physique of all time.

"I never imagined I'd witness the Domineering Body's resurgence in my lifetime," Elder Chu remarked, filled with nostalgia.

Without the self-repairing Domineering Body, Qin Ming wouldn't have managed yesterday's impressive feat of overpowering more than three hundred disciples. Moreover, his mastery of the Flat Heaven Seal was improving, hinting at reaching its ultimate form.

Suddenly, a knock at the door interrupted their conversation.

Qin Hao was the visitor, arriving with a basket full of herbs. He had scoured every major market the previous night to procure the necessary ingredients after ensuring Qin Ming was settled.

"Qin Ming, you're up? See what I've brought you." Qin Hao paused, astonished.

Qin Ming, now before him, bore no resemblance to the man on the brink of death he'd seen the day before. His wounds had scarred over, and he looked robust, strong as an ox. Qin Hao rubbed his eyes, wondering if he was seeing things.

"Don't worry," Qin Ming reassured him, draping an arm around Qin Hao's neck in a brotherly gesture.

Scratching his head, Qin Ming admitted, "I'm not sure how to explain. Just think of me as uniquely gifted, but let's keep this between us."

Qin Ming had complete trust in Qin Hao.

Qin Hao's defense of him the previous day had solidified their friendship, and his discretion regarding Qin Ming's crafting of the Low Grade Beast Blood Pill proved his loyalty.

"Why keep it a secret?" Qin Hao asked, his simplicity preventing him from grasping Qin Ming's strategy.

"In two days, the showdown for the top ten disciples will take place. I plan to stun everyone with a big surprise, and it's time to deal with certain individuals." Qin Ming's smile held a mischievous edge, yet his eyes betrayed a glint of ruthlessness.

Under normal circumstances, an ordinary person with such severe injuries would need at least ten days to two weeks of rest to recover, even with the aid of miracle medicine.

Over the next two days, Qin Ming exhausted all three bottles of Beast Blood Pill he had won as competition rewards. He finally reached the peak of the Fourth Phase of the Spirit Founding Stage, just a hair's breadth away from advancing to the Fifth Phase.

Qin Hao, following Qin Ming's instructions, feigned continuing treatment over the past two days, perpetuating the illusion to the outside world that Qin Ming was still gravely ill.

The showdown among the top ten was about to commence, and many disciples hastened to the training field. Opportunities to witness clashes between such skilled fighters, particularly among the family's elite, were exceedingly rare.

Elder Qin Shan and Qin De presided over the event, while Qin Wu and the other nine contenders had already assembled at the training field.

Qin Ming entered the training field looking frail and sickly just as the competition was about to start. His pallor suggested extreme vulnerability.

The disciples regarded him solemnly; this was the formidable individual who had once dominated over three hundred of their peers. Despite his apparent unhealed injuries, no one dared to underestimate him.

Many female disciples felt a pang of sympathy, and even Elder Qin Shan shook his head in concern.

"You're nothing but trash," Gentleman Qin scoffed openly.

The shame Gentleman Qin had endured over his lifetime paled in comparison to what he had experienced in the last three days. His heart was wracked with excruciating pain.

He blamed all his suffering on Qin Ming. Seeing Qin Ming's weakened state now brought him a twisted sense of satisfaction.

Qin Ming surveyed the surroundings in silence, mentally adding Gentleman Qin to his list of scores to settle.

"Today's match is a contest among us nine," declared Qin Yong, stepping forward from among the disciples.

He recognized Qin Ming's undeniable strength, which had been proven the day before. However, Qin Ming's current frail appearance seemed out of place, as if he shouldn't have come only to face further disgrace.

"That's right," one of Qin Wu's men exclaimed.

Qin Yong was eager to validate his years of effort at this pivotal moment. He didn't want Qin Ming's interference to disrupt the competition.

"Come on, if you can withstand one of my moves, I'll concede defeat," Qin Yong declared, eager to dispense with the bothersome Qin Ming and move on to the final battle.

"There should be some reward if I win," interjected Qin Hao, the only one aware of Qin Ming's condition.

"Three bottles of Beast Blood Pill," Qin Yong boomed confidently.

Not everyone had the ability to absorb the Beast Blood Pill as rapidly as Qin Ming; some of the top ten disciples hadn't even unsealed their bottles yet.

"Fine," Qin Ming responded feebly.

The crowd shook their heads in disbelief, convinced that Qin Ming's judgment was clouded by the Beast Blood Pill. Given his frail state, it seemed impossible for him to withstand a single blow from Qin Yong.

Both competitors placed three bottles of Beast Blood Pill at the edge of the arena, though Qin Ming's bottles were conspicuously empty.

"Who would've thought that the seemingly dull-witted Qin Yong was actually quite shrewd? He's managed to secure three bottles of Beast Blood Pill just like that," Gentleman Qin remarked enviously, though he relished the thought of Qin Ming facing defeat.

On the arena, Qin Yong was relentless.

His Tiger Subduing Fist cut through the air, silencing the onlookers.

Qin Ming, with his spectral agility, evaded Qin Yong's onslaught.

At the moment Qin Yong's fist force was spent and his punch not yet retracted, Qin Ming lightly tapped his fist and said weakly, "You concede, right?"

With that, Qin Ming headed to the edge of the arena to claim Qin Yong's wager.

"This can't be happening," Qin Yong muttered in disbelief, still unable to accept that the frail Qin Ming had dodged his strike.

"You little rascal, I said you had to take my attack head-on, not dodge it with petty tricks."

Jeers erupted from the audience.

Qin Yong's face flushed with embarrassment, but he was not about to forfeit the three bottles of Beast Blood Pill—equivalent to three months of cultivation resources.

"If you dare, face my punch directly and lose convincingly," he challenged.

"Alright," Qin Ming responded with crisp decisiveness.