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Entry: I Secretly Cultivate Immortality in the Martial Arts World

Chapter 307 : Chapter 308 Lin Mo: Have I Become the Big Boss? (Page 1/3)

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307: Chapter 308 Lin Mo: Have I Become the Big Boss?”Seriously? He actually swallowed me?”

This was the last thought Lin Mo had before losing consciousness.

His vision went black, the sound of wind whistled in his ears, and his whole body felt as if it were falling into an abyss, plummeting straight down.

He tried to mobilize his immortal essence to stabilize his body, but discovered that his limbs and bones seemed to be shackled by some kind of force, and he couldn’t exert even a shred of strength.

Falling, an endless fall.

He did not know how much time had passed—perhaps a few breaths, perhaps several hours—before Lin Mo’s feet finally touched the ground.

No, it wasn’t the ground.

It was an indescribable texture, like stepping on clouds, or perhaps like stepping on water; it was soft, yet he didn’t sink into it.

Lin Mo opened his eyes.

The surroundings were no longer the beach of Biyou Island, but a gray, hazy space.

There was no sky, no ground, no wind, and no light, yet he could still see things.

This contradictory feeling left him somewhat dazed.

”Is this... inside the Blue-haired Lion’s belly?”

He looked down at himself; his hands and feet were intact, there were no wounds on his body, and his immortal essence had returned to normal.

It was just that the gray mist all around was pervasive, making it impossible to see far into the distance.

But not long after, the gray mist slowly dispersed, revealing the scene ahead.

It was a battlefield.

Corpses were strewn across the field, and blood flowed like a river.

Swords and blades were broken, and banners were tattered.

The air was thick with the stench of blood.

Seeing this, Lin Mo’s heart tightened, and a thought flashed through his mind: Could he have Transmigrated again?

On the other side of the battlefield, countless figures were slaughtering each other.

There were members of the Human Race, the Yao Race, Cultivators wearing Daoist robes, monks draped in kasayas, and those from the Demonic Path wreathed in Devilish Qi.

They were locked in a chaotic melee, unable to distinguish friend from foe; they slashed at anything alive and killed anyone weak.

Lin Mo had no time to think, because the slaughter on the battlefield was spreading toward him.

A Golden Immortal Cultivator, drenched in blood, discovered his presence and lunged at him with bloodshot eyes, a long blade held high in his hand.

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”Kill!”

Lin Mo did not move.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to move, but that he discovered he couldn’t move again.

His body felt as if it had been nailed to the spot; he couldn’t even lift a single finger.

The long blade descended.

Lin Mo closed his eyes.

The blade did not strike him.

He opened his eyes and discovered that the Golden Immortal Cultivator had passed right through his body, as if passing through a phantom image.

Lin Mo looked down at himself, then looked around.

So, he had no physical form here; he was merely an observer.

He breathed a sigh of relief, then immediately frowned again.

He hadn’t Transmigrated? He was in an illusion?

Since it was an illusion, why couldn’t it give him some sense of participation? What was the point of just watching?

Just as he was thinking this, the scene before his eyes changed abruptly once again.

Afterward, Lin Mo experienced layer upon layer of trials within the illusion.

There were choices to be made, trade-offs to consider, the discernment to judge people, the ability to judge situations, and interrogations that forced him to face his true heart.

Every stage pointed directly at his Heart-Nature and his bottom line, allowing for not even a shred of pretense.

He made his choices and bore the consequences.

After going through dozens of trials, the illusion finally collapsed.

The gray mist dissipated, and the light returned.

When Lin Mo came to his senses, he was already standing on the peak of a solitary mountain.

Cold wind rolled the clouds and mist around him, and standing before him was that massive Blue-haired Lion, its oppressive aura spreading heavily.

Lin Mo was slightly startled, but a moment later, his mind suddenly cleared, and he realized what had happened instantly.

So, everything he had experienced in the illusion was a trial set by this big shot.

The Blue-haired Lion looked down at Lin Mo; its golden pupils no longer held the scrutiny and amusement from before, but instead contained a touch of satisfaction.

”Not bad,” the Blue-haired Lion spoke, its voice still as low and rumbling as muffled thunder, but its tone was much gentler.

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