Lying on the mat, sweating like a pig and breathing heavily, Feng Shen stared up at the ceiling.
"Holy shit… I'm out of breath…" he rasped, his voice rough.
Feng Shen's vision had blurred as a pounding headache set in, leaving him feeling nauseous and on the verge of throwing up.
Having finally completed all his sets of the Single Palm Strike, he had pushed his body past its limits, forcing himself to keep going even as exhaustion clawed at him from within.
And so, the moment Feng Shen finished, he collapsed, his body giving in to the strain.
Yet, amid the exhaustion, he felt a surge of satisfaction—a sense of actual progress. His body was finally starting to adapt to the basics, growing stronger bit by bit.
"I really should start body cultivation," Feng Shen muttered, acknowledging that, alongside his martial arts training, going down such a path would be essential.
