At the mass grave in the middle of the night, Zhang Atie was chewing on half of the sword blade.
When rust mixed with rotting blood spread on the tip of his tongue, vein-like red lines suddenly appeared on his right arm - the salamander demon pill he swallowed last night began to boil. The pursuer's talisman lantern lit up a hundred feet away. The young man grinned, revealing his teeth stained with iron filings. His throat rolled as he swallowed the last piece of fine iron into his belly.
"Crack!"
Seven bronze-colored bone protrusions burst out from his spine, and the broken copper coins, iron caltrops, and meteorite iron slag he had swallowed over the past ten years melted into a galaxy under his skin. When the first monk struck with his sword, they were horrified to find that the skin of this "iron-eating waste" who had been ridiculed for eighteen years was glowing with the cold light of the "dragon's beard iron" recorded in "Tiangong Kaiwu".
