When the protagonist transmigrates as a good-for-nothing with a mixed spiritual root, everyone expects him to fend for himself and die in the cultivation world.
The heads of the major sects shake their heads and sigh: "This cripple with completely severed meridians can't even draw qi into his body. He'd be lucky to live three months."
But in the very next moment, the head of Reliance Sect shields him and laughs:
"Your meridians are severed? No problem. We'll feed you our sect's treasured Nine-Revolution Resurrection Pills like candy, then graft on our ancestral Chaotic Spiritual Veins."
"No cultivation manual? Our sect's legendary divine artifact, the Primordial Stele, will stand in your courtyard from today on. Look at it for as long as you like."
"Someone dares bully you? We have over a thousand old ancestors at the Tribulation Transcendence stage. They just emerged from seclusion after breaking through together, and they're itching for a chance to stretch their legs." Later, a prodigy from the lower realm comes to provoke the sect, pointing at Lin Mo and calling him a good-for-nothing who got in through connections.
The moment he finishes speaking, thousands of Saint-stage auras erupt across the sect, making the entire void creak under their pressure.
The prodigy across from him drops to his knees, legs going limp, before the protagonist even lifts a hand.
From the day he became an apprentice of Reliance Sect, there was never such a thing as an "obstacle" on his path to immortality.
The author's brain circuit is so strange. Others are just spiritual beasts, and treasures can take form. Now, they can directly take the form of martial arts. There are so many jokes. Who knows how to lie under the quilt and laugh in the middle of the night?