Mo Yangling studied his surroundings as he slowly opened his eyes the very next morning.
After making sure that he was not in someone's stomach and that there was no other beast nearby, he slowly started waking up properly.
His eyes trembled for a moment as he shakily stood up.
His bones had healed, and so had his muscles and organs. But he still felt sore all over.
But even while sore, he decided to start his morning routine.
The first order of business was to take a quick bath in the river to wash the blood off his skin.
Watching the dried blood, which had clung to his body through the night, wash away and flow down the river left the Monk feeling invigorated.
Knowing that it was all his own blood made him question how he hadn't died from blood loss the night before, but he simply attributed it to the latent energy within his soul.
Even if he couldn't control it all that well yet, he could still feel it, even more so now after such a close brush with death.
The monk gazed down at his now clean, wet hands as the sun beamed from the skies above. For a moment, he closed his eyes.
He absorbed the warmth, feeling the sunlight reflecting off the river's surface as it bathed him. Controlling his breath, he focused on the energies around him, slowly reopening his eyes.
In that brief moment, he felt the sun's warmth healing him, its brilliant light invigorating his spirit.
His sore muscles pulsed with renewed strength, growing even more resilient from the strain they had endured.
Though his body still ached, he now felt more agile than when he had first begun his training.
'Strengthening my muscles was a good choice in the end. I survived thanks to them... But I need more...'
His vow upon arriving in that world was to become someone great. Someone whose name would echo through the world. But only after last night's encounter did he realize how monumental a task that was...
By now, it was clear that he was not going to survive in that forest, nor in that world, if he just continued to strengthen only his muscles... He needed to train and gain control over his Origin Energy as well.
And so Mo Yangling finished bathing and slowly returned to the small hut.
Upon reaching the blood-stained leaf bed he had slept on all night, he scowled. He moved to throw out the leaves nearby before taking some more from nearby bushes and making himself another nice pile to rest on.
As soon as that little DIY project was finished, he decided to do something he had not done in quite a while.
And that was to sit down cross-legged and meditate.
He had entered meditative states before while focusing solely on his training. It was similar to the pseudo-meditation he had performed in the river a few moments prior.
But it hadn't come close to what he had achieved moments before he died in his previous life.
'I have already experienced enlightenment... So with just a little bit of focus, I should be able to witness it once more.'
He could still remember the taste of that feeling. It had lingered within the depths of his soul, so he felt confident that he could achieve it once more.
So, when he finally sat down on that fresh bed of leaves, he slowly started to control his breath as his hands lay down by his side, resting on his knees.
With his eyes closed, he felt as if he could see more of the world. He saw the energy around him, the energy emanating from his soul.
He could see how vibrant and alive the world felt; he could feel the heavens above peering down at him as well.
The monk had done it once more; he had reached that fabled state of mind.
He had no way of knowing so, but reaching enlightenment was something that other cultivators could only dream of achieving, even partially within lifespans spanning centuries.
It was only something that could be achieved by those favored by the heavens, only attainable to those who had enough talent to stand above generations.
But the monk had already transcended that notion, able to enter a state of true enlightenment at will.
And whilst in that state, he was able to feel and freely manipulate the Origin Energy latent in his soul.
Slowly but surely, he filled his body with more and more Origin Energy, allowing his muscles to soak and heal completely as he breathed in and out rhythmically.
Those healed muscles continued to grow and flex from the stress of that energy. The monk only stopped when he felt that his body was close to not being able to take any more.
But his soul still had more energy. An almost exuberant amount, which simply could not be consumed by his body at all.
The monk could feel all of the pathways in his body lighting up with energy, his skin cracking, and expelling out all impurities that had gathered through the years.
He had already reached a state of progression just with the residual energy around his soul.
It appeared to the outside world that he had skipped the first two stages of a cultivator's journey and had suddenly evolved from a mortal body to a Martial Master.
But the Monk was not done yet... He was still getting used to the energy, directing it through his body with a focused demeanour.
With a release of some pent-up energy, the monk caused the surrounding thatch hut to shatter as his breath transformed into a strong gust of wind.
Wood and leaves spread out all across his surroundings, blown away as the sunlight once again met the Monk's slightly tanned skin.
Even though his breath was becoming more and more harmful to the nearby trees, he did not stop or even flinch from his sitting position.
With every breath he took, the water in front of him created waves that crashed against the shore on the opposite end.
When noticing that he couldn't strengthen his muscles any longer, the Monk started with his bones... Then with his organs, and finally with his skin.
With each passing minute, an increasing amount of Origin Energy flooded his surroundings. Flowers began to sprout all around him, and it seemed as though the world was celebrating his breakthrough.
The foliage soon engulfed everything in sight very quickly, including the Monk's body.
Minutes turned into hours, hours turned into days, days into months... And before he had even realized it, the Monk had spent an entire year in that same position.
But instead of sitting on the ground, he was floating in midair with an enormous lotus blossoming beneath him.
When the Monk opened his eyes again, he breathed out once more, this time more controlled.
His breath, once destructive had now returned to normal, as he had also meditated to learn to control his body which was now positively brimming with energy.
The monk had no way of knowing what level he had reached, he didn't even know how much time he had spent there.
But as he opened his eyes and looked at his surroundings, he realized that everything looked much clearer than before.
Every aspect of his senses was enhanced now.
He now could count and hear the flapping wings of an insect clinging to the tree bark, one hundred meters away.
He could also smell the small hole he had used as a latrine a while back which was around 50 meters away... Even though it felt dry, some of the stench still lingered.
'I should've dug that a bit further away...'
But he decided to ignore that stench for now, focusing on the beautiful flowers around him, as well as the large lotus he was stepping on.
'I guess being in harmony with nature has now gained a literal sense... I wonder what the old Abbot would say if he saw this scene.'
After shaking his head regretfully, Mo Yangling flexed his now much more defined and muscular body.
Even now, he only wore his underwear. The snake skin he had collected was sure to have dried out by now though, so he was going to at least make himself a skirt or something...
He stepped forward, looking down at the river and into his reflection. The Monk's eyes grew wide and a tear landed on his cheek as he saw the burly, handsome figure reflected.
'Still no beard...'
The Monk's sadness was deep. Immensurable even. But his faith had not yet faltered.
"May the enlightened one who cures all suffering grant us healing."
The monk quickly recited a short Mantra, an ode to the Healing Buddha. A figure that represented recovery and overcoming suffering back in his old world.
But mantras were not prayers in the typical sense, nor did the experienced Monk expect them to be.
He merely used it to focus and move on from his grief, his mind refocused as he examined the rest of his body.
He felt as though the skin on his palms had turned into leather as he looked down at them.
Grasping his hands into fists, he could feel the raw power surging through his veins as he slowly turned to face the river.
In half a second, the Monk was already dropped down into a Horse Stance, and his clenched fist was extended forward.
A shockwave that could only be described as a torrent of wind emerged from that punch, blowing away the entire river and uprooting many of the trees on the opposite side.
The Monk blinked a few times as he remained in that same position, his muscles not losing even a strand of energy from that earlier punch... But that was because he didn't use any Origin Energy.
"This time again. Let's see how this looks!"
The Monk brought his arm back, and this time he unclenched his fist, forming a palm.
His back muscles extended, and his shoulder muscles flexed as veins appeared on his entire arm, followed by a soft blue glow which covered all of the muscles essential for the following movement.
In a split second, the monk's arm shot forward, his palm touching the atmosphere as the aura surrounding it grew.
Stretching outward, a 5-meter-wide Gigantic Palm blew away all nearby foliage and further crushed the destroyed riverbank.
After crossing the river, the palm carried on, destroying any trees that had the misfortune of being born in its path.
The Monk stood in that position for a few moments, still in the horse stance, before he finally brought his hands together in a short prayer.
"Amithaba seems I may have caused a bit more damage than intended..."
Mo Yangling's voice sounded regretful, but there was also an underlying excitement in his tone.
He was about to say a brief prayer for the plants he had uprooted when he noticed that everything in that palm's path appeared to be growing back.
More life was subsequently infused into the destroyed land.
"Hmm~ How refreshing!" The Monk smelled the fresh air, spending a moment to take it all in before his now-enhanced instincts blared at him to dodge.
A gigantic tail crushed the Monk's previous resting place just as he had rolled to the side.
The monk blinked a few times, as that gigantic tail turned out to be a tongue, which had extended out of the mouth of the 'hill' that his river had originated from.
Mo Yangling blinked a few times as the hill seemed to have transformed into a gigantic turtle, one that easily dwarfed the White Snake he had seen previously.
Its leathery skin was dark, and its shell seemed to be made up of the hill that had always been there in the distance.
Its mouth appeared to be adorned with sharp teeth, and its eyes were a glowing yellow, as the beast also seemed to be exuding an obscene amount of energy.
"GRAH'THULK NARZ'TARGH, RAAK'TOLG KROSHAA!"
The Monk could once again feel his hair blown backwards in the wind from the sheer pressure exuded by that Giant Turtle.
Much like before, he couldn't make out the words of its dialect... But he could understand a meaning.
Even more than a meaning, he could feel the emotions behind that guttural shout...
Absolute rage.