MTL - Endless Dantian - Chapter 47 Mutant Little Tiger Head

After his wife's affair and the discovery that his child belongs to another man, Li Feng is cast out into the rainy night.Since fate won't allow him to live an ordinary life, he resolves to live an extraordinary one.“How many roads must a man walk down, before they call him a man” --- < Blowing in The Wind > Bob Dylan

【National Martial Arts】【Attributes】There are rumors that ancient Taoist priests could leap over mountain ravines in a single step,There are rumors that ancient generals could crush bronze and iron with one hand.There are rumors that ancient monks could cross the Yangtze River with a single reed,There are rumors that ancient travelers could let out a howl like thunder.Striking a person is like hanging a picture, the strike sounds sharp and crackling,Practicing qi gathers in the Dantian, crossing the river just knee-deep.With the help of the attributes panel, Wang Longhu explored and embarked on the path of martial arts through diligent practice.“Today, I am the number one in the world.”

He became stronger, faster than anyone else… but he lost. In the end, there was only despair for Kim YuWon.

In his last moments, he was given another chance… Through the sacrifice of his comrade, his fate had not been sealed yet.

Returning back to the past, he attempts to climb the Tower again with his unmatched talent.

To fight the ancient evils that threatens to destroy the Tower.

The boundless universe is full of many wonders.

I, Chen Ping, only have one sword!

I can move mountains, overturn the seas upside down, suppress demons, slap the face of gods, pluck the stars, break rivers, destroy cities, and… open the heavenly abode!

***

The Midland world was full of wonders.

In the center of the world, there was a scholar who had once used a sword to slash out a waterfall of the Milky Way. This was the person he was the most proud of.

At the edge of East Sea’s cliffs, there was a nameless Daoist who was unwilling to ascend to the peak of a mountain. He only wished for a cool breeze to brush against his face.

In the Western Pure Land, there was an old monk who liked to treat people to chicken soup and tell stories.

In the southern border of the Wilderness, there was a blind painter who controlled golden-armored puppets that were as tall as mountains to move the hundred thousand mountains, creating an embroidered picture.

A impoverished youth who grew up in the north. One day, he saw tens of thousands of Sword Kinesis Immortals above him, like a swarm of locusts crossing the border.

He wanted to see for himself the scholar that the storyteller had mentioned, the surging tides of the East Sea, the vast swamps of sand in the west, and the majestic mountains of the Southern Wasteland.

Thus, one day, the youth picked up the wooden sword and began to descend south.

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