The Path of Power (The Emperor Trials)

Chapter 83 : The Supreme Body part 2

As Philip laid on the floor at the edge of the flowing rivers of blood —his body now a vessel of divine essence and tempered pain—he began the process.

The cultivation of the Supreme Body.

Unlike ordinary techniques that molded mana or shaped the soul, this path was one of flesh and blood, of shaping the vessel itself into something that could defy time, disease, and even death. It was brutal. It was raw. It was eternal.

Phase One: Immortal Bones

He began with the foundation.

His bones.

A thousand tiny fractures echoed through him as every bone in his body was crushed, reforged, and reborn. The marrow was flushed with blood essence. It wasn't just strengthening—it was transforming.

"Your bones must withstand the test of time," the technique whispered into his mind.

"Let them bear the weight of millennia."

The calcified structure evolved into something more—something immortal. His skeleton no longer groaned under stress; it sang with potential. But the refining process of

Phase Two: Internal Organs

Next, his focus turned inward—to the soft machinery of life.

His heart pulsed with molten mana, its chambers expanding with each beat.

It would become a core in its own right—capable of pumping not just blood, but mana-laced oxygen to every part of his body at unimaginable speed.

His lungs adapted next, drawing in not just air but the ambient life-force around him.

The kidneys, liver, and other organs followed, each one being refined to process waste, toxins, and essence with the precision of a divine furnace.

His body would no longer be sustained by food and water. It would feed off power itself.

Phase Three: Blood Cultivation

Then came the blood—the eternal river of self.

This was the hardest.

His veins inflamed, expanded, and then began to burst. Blood sprayed out from his mouth, his nose, his pores. But it wasn't red anymore.

It was golden, thick and luminous, alive.

T'zaruun's blood essence—still carrying the ancient might of a god—collided with Philip's own, but instead of consuming him, it yielded. His body had already become dominion—there was no more room for external control.

The Supreme Body required that his blood become a reservoir of mana, a flowing river of strength.

"Cultivate your blood so it carries your will."

"Let your essence flow into your descendants."

His blood grew dense, heavy with power. Each drop now carried more mana than some cultivators' entire cores. He felt it—an echo of eternity forming in every pulse.

Phase Four: Tendons and Muscles

His limbs twitched uncontrollably as the mana surged into his tendons.

They stretched. Contracted. Strengthened.

Then again.

And again.

Each cycle tore and rebuilt the fibrous threads that held him together.

His muscles followed next, compacting with explosive power. But they didn't just grow—they refined. They adapted to his will, flexible like woven steel yet fast enough to respond at the speed of thought.

He could leap mountains now—but land as softly as falling ash.

Phase Five: Skin and Flesh

Last came the skin.

It hardened. Slowly. Gradually.

Mana seeped into each layer of flesh, compacting tissue at the molecular level.

It wasn't armor—it was something worse. Or better.

His skin would become a blade.

"When the process is complete," the technique warned, "your flesh shall cleave diamonds like butter."

His skin absorbed residual blood essence like a sponge, pulling in nutrients and mana even while at rest.

And it wasn't done.

The flesh and skin would remain in constant cultivation—forever evolving, adapting to his surroundings, his enemies, his life.

So long as there was material—mana, essence, even matter—the Supreme Body would continue to refine itself.

Final Phase: Absolute Purity

As the final glyph faded from his mind, Philip's body pulsed once more.

A wave of cleansing light passed through him.

The aura of death that had clung to him after the battle with T'zaruun dissipated instantly. His body now rejected decay, resisted poison, and was utterly immune to disease.

Even curses or spirit-feuds would dissipate in his presence.

His aura was one of purity, of dominion—of an unshakable vessel meant to endure the cosmos itself.