After fully absorbing the spirit bone, Lin Yang slowly stood up. His bones crackled like they were being ground, a chain of crisp snapping sounds ringing out.
He moved his body a bit. It felt like he'd shed a suit of iron armor; his entire being felt wonderfully light and free.
The spirit bone's enhancement to his physique was obvious.
At least, Lin Yang felt his body was more than twice as strong as before. Otherwise, even with the help of whale glue, he never could have withstood a five-thousand-year second spirit ring.
He then noticed that he had grown quite a bit taller.
After absorbing his first ring, he had been about 1.3 meters tall. Now he was over 1.4 meters.
He no longer looked like a seven-year-old child, but more like a boy of around ten.
The most obvious benefit of his growth was that when he held a blade now, he no longer looked like a child awkwardly brandishing a giant weapon—it no longer felt so mismatched.
Once he had gotten used to his new body, Lin Yang left the cave.
Outside, he realized he had spent an entire day absorbing the spirit bone.
Dawn was breaking; the dark veil of night was receding and the sky was growing pale.
The rising sun slowly climbed from the horizon, its golden light pushing back the remnants of darkness.
"The timing is perfect."
Gazing at the sun that was about to rise, Lin Yang murmured,
"I'll use this chance to completely fix my martial soul's flaw."
As the sun climbed higher, nearing midday, its golden rays bathed the entire mountainside.
Lin Yang hesitated no more. He extended his left hand and summoned his Demon Blood martial soul.
"Martial soul, possess!"
The Demon Blood, now the size of a baby's head, instantly sank into his body.
A powerful force spread through his limbs and bones and all across his body.
Alongside it came that familiar, exuberant vitality and surge of strength.
But under the blazing sun, this power seemed incredibly fragile—like a castle in the air.
Lin Yang could even feel the instinctive fear from the Demon Blood martial soul—the fear of the sun.
No matter if it was a Lower Rank, Upper Rank, or the demon king Kibutsuji Muzan himself—no matter how long they had lived, no matter how powerful their Blood Demon Arts—
So long as they were a Demon, they could never bask in the sunlight.
What Lin Yang wanted to do was break that taboo.
No madness, no rebirth.
He stomped his foot and shot out like a cannonball, his entire body completely exposed under the blazing sun.
Almost the instant the sunlight touched him, his skin began to smolder with wisps of white smoke, as though it were being burnt by high heat.
The flesh beneath turned black and charred at a speed visible to the naked eye, then began to crumble to ash.
"Aaahhhh—!"
A howl of bone-deep agony tore from Lin Yang's throat—but it cut off abruptly.
Because his throat had already been seared through by sunlight; he could no longer make a sound.
The Demon Blood's incredible regeneration was utterly useless here.
Overwhelming suffocation and searing heat engulfed him from all directions like an unstoppable tide, pushing Lin Yang to the brink of madness.
It hurt. It hurt too much.
It was like something was prying apart every single cell, ripping him apart from the depths of his marrow.
Compared to this, the so-called "death by a thousand cuts" was as laughably weak as a soft little girl from Chengdu.
The instincts of the Demon Blood drove him to desperately flee from the sun.
But with scarlet eyes, Lin Yang dug his skeletal fingers into the ground, using sheer willpower to suppress his survival instinct.
He knew very clearly that if he ran once, then he would never again have the courage to face the sun.
"Heal, damn you!"
He roared inwardly as he activated the skill of the Blue Silver Emperor right leg bone.
Wildfire Cannot Destroy the Grass, It Grows Again With the Spring Wind!
The powerful healing ability finally revealed its true worth, as blue-gold light again and again repaired his ravaged body.
Though his flesh would soon turn to ash, this still bought Lin Yang fleeting moments to catch his breath.
Under the oppression of the sun, the Demon Blood body was constantly collapsing—yet constantly regenerating under the spirit bone's skill.
In this endless cycle, the Demon Blood martial soul was undergoing thousands of changes every second.
It was adapting. It was evolving.
The Demon Blood was the source of Demonly power.
Now, its essence was being ground down under a great millstone called the "sun," then fused throughout his entire body, bit by bit.
Each bone, each muscle fiber, each strand of hair, even every single cell became infused with the essence of the Demon Blood martial soul.
The sun gradually fell westward.
Where Lin Yang had been lay only a lump of black charcoal, reeking of the foul scent of charred protein.
"Crack."
With a barely audible sound, a fissure appeared on the surface of the charred lump.
That seemed to be a beginning.
A series of cracking sounds followed as the blackened shell quickly split and fell away, revealing the flesh beneath.
From within came the strong, rhythmic thump of a beating heart.
The meat twitched, then swelled rapidly.
White-jade bones grew at high speed, threads of muscle latching onto them, stretching and growing of their own accord.
In just a few breaths, torso, limbs, and skull had fully taken shape.
A perfect body gradually emerged—completely naked, but with long, well-proportioned lines brimming with power.
Looking at this flawless body, Lin Yang clenched his fist.
The memory of the burning pain and the lingering fear now turned to pure elation, a wild, unrestrained laughter echoing through the valley.
His laughter contained relief, excitement, and barely contained joy.
He had succeeded.
He could stand under the sun. His martial soul would no longer have any flaw.
After venting to his heart's content, Lin Yang glanced down at his fully exposed body and his face flushed slightly.
He'd been so excited he forgot that he currently looked like some primitive savage, not a shred of clothing in sight. Fortunately, there was no one else around to see him, so there was no one to be embarrassed in front of.
With a thought, the flesh on his body squirmed and quickly formed a set of clothes, covering him up.
A Demon's flesh could be turned into clothes—completely under his control and highly protective to boot.
He could even change outfits with a single thought.
Then Lin Yang tried to summon his Demon Blood martial soul and discovered it was gone.
Instead, two thousand-year spirit rings slowly rose at his feet.
He fell silent. After carefully sensing his situation, he understood what had happened.
The original Demon Blood martial soul had been somewhat like Luo Sanpao—a special detached martial soul—yet it could also attach to his body like a beast-type martial soul.
He and his martial soul had been closely linked, yet still separate.
Now, under the sun's bombardment, the Demon Blood shattered and reformed. Its very essence finally merged with his body completely until there was no boundary between them.
And so his second martial soul had become himself.
He was his martial soul; his martial soul was him—a true main-body martial soul.
This martial soul was surprisingly versatile.
Lin Yang chuckled at himself. Calling this martial soul "Demon Blood" didn't quite fit anymore.
After pondering briefly, he spoke.
"I'll call it the Demon God Body martial soul."
At this point, even if he stopped cultivating altogether, he could live for a thousand, even ten thousand years.
He had already brushed against the domain of gods, touched upon the authority of divinity.
Calling it a "Demon God" was not an exaggeration.
Stepping into the realm of gods with a Demon's body—this was Lin Yang's vision for the Demon God Body martial soul.