Transmigration To Magus World-Chapter 114: The Clothes Thief?

Chapter 114: The Clothes Thief?

The rushing torrents flowed with an overwhelming force, their power relentless.

Aizen adjusted his body slowly in the water, striving to adapt to the impact of the currents. This was not just a test of his agility and lower-body stability; the force of the water also tempered his muscles and bones.

Like a submerged rock weathered by the river, Aizen let the currents strip away his rough edges and impurities, leaving behind only resilience and strength.

For half an hour, he struggled to advance barely three meters. Yet, every small step forward signified immense progress.

His movements resembled those of a red-crowned crane, gracefully stepping through the water with long legs, each step as steady as a rooted old tree.

He imagined the water as wind striking his body. While the sensation of the water was much clearer and heavier than that of air, his goal was to learn how to shift his weight and evade the brunt of the current at its most violent moment. Instead, he sought the weak points to stabilize himself better.

This was no simple task. The further he advanced, the stronger and more chaotic the currents became. Each step was met with increasing resistance, the pressure on his body growing exponentially.

But every inch gained was a testament to his progress. This environment allowed him to find a balance between honing his agility and strengthening his physical endurance.

Through focused effort, he circulated his inner energy, letting it collide with the rushing water. Gradually, the energy was absorbed into his muscles and bones, refining his body according to the principles of the Demonic Body Forging Technique.

At times, he would crouch low, his posture resembling someone drawing a bow, his body trembling violently under the force of the water but never yielding.

At other moments, he would spread his arms and inhale deeply, his abdomen bulging slightly like a mouse scurrying through a maze. This bulge was a core of refined essence and energy, a miraculous result of his advanced Sorcery arts training.

The essence, connected to his Belt Meridian, moved throughout his body, nourishing and strengthening every part it touched. It eventually coiled around his waist like a serpent, creating a faint "whistling" sound as it circulated.

This was the origin of the Belt Meridian’s name—it acted like an energy belt, fortifying the practitioner’s body.

The Demonic Body Forging Technique required such rigorous body-tempering exercises, combined with precise movements. When perfected, the practitioner’s skin and muscles would become impervious to ordinary blades and weapons.

There was no better training resource than the harmonious yet fierce currents of this waterfall. It provided the ideal conditions for such cultivation.

In Sorcery arts, the saying goes: "A practitioner needs wealth, companions, methods, and a suitable place."

This "place" referred to an environment conducive to cultivation, and Aizen was in one of the best environments possible.

The crashing waterfall seemed to mimic a series of Sorcery artists attacking him—each "opponent" fiercer than the last. Yet, none were fatal, and each strike served as a perfect opportunity for practice.

Under such conditions, his understanding of Sorcery techniques and their application advanced rapidly.

As the day turned to dusk, Aizen leaped out of the water. His tall and lean figure stood silhouetted against the glow of the setting sun, exuding a quiet majesty.

At nearly twenty years old, his martial training had enhanced his physique. He now stood close to 1.8 meters tall—not overly tall, but certainly not short. His wheat-colored, well-defined muscles rippled under his skin, giving him the appearance of a powerful and agile panther.

The light of the setting sun bathed him in a golden glow. His wet black hair clung to his shoulders, and water droplets trickled down his body like tiny crystals sliding across polished stone.

In the distance, birds returned to their nests in the mountain forests. Flocks of birds flew through the twilight sky, their cries filling the air and imbuing the mountain range with a sense of vitality and grandeur.

The scene evoked poetry: "The setting sun with solitary ducks flying together; the autumn waters stretch into the endless sky."

The thunderous roar of the waterfall had become a familiar sound to his ears. The torrential waters continued their relentless descent, while the mist rising from the spray cooled his skin.

Night was falling, and the air had turned colder. Aizen, invigorated by his training, began to prepare for the next phase of his journey.

Aizen gathered his energy and leaped gracefully, skimming across the surface of the water in a single breath. Within moments, he covered over 100 meters to reach the shore.

After a day of arduous training, his movement technique had improved significantly, reaching 21% proficiency at the second stage.

Yet, he felt a bottleneck approaching. His speed could clearly improve further, but something held him back. His leaps, though powerful, couldn’t escape the pull of gravity.

What bound his movements was air resistance and the downward pull of gravity—forces he now began to sense acutely for the first time.

Understanding these forces and feeling them were two different things.

Feeling them meant he had touched the boundary of this limitation. With one more push, he could pierce this barrier and gain new insight.

"If I can reach the edge of the waterfall under such turbulent currents, my understanding of movement techniques might achieve mastery."

However, traversing the raging water to the base of the waterfall was no easy feat.

An ordinary person would be swept away by the current long before getting close. Even as a martial artist, Aizen lacked the solid foundation and precise mastery of movement techniques needed to succeed.

To progress, he needed to learn how to dodge the brunt of the current, weaving his way through the torrents to advance upstream.

This wasn’t a matter of brute force or technique but accumulated experience—a nuanced skill acquired through trial and error.

If he could master this, his movement techniques would reach the level of perfection.

Turning back toward where he had left his clothes, Aizen began walking—only to stop abruptly.

His sharp eyes scanned his surroundings, suddenly growing cold.

The quiet valley seemed tranquil, with only the occasional bird song or the distant roars of tigers and leopards in the deep mountains. There was no sign of anyone else.

So why were his clothes missing?

On the ground lay his Cold Moon Blade and a suit of fine golden chainmail, both immensely valuable. But his simple clothing was gone.

The scene was baffling. A set of cheap clothes had vanished, yet the priceless blade and armor remained untouched.

Aizen frowned and approached the items, picking up the Cold Moon Blade. Scattered nearby were his shoes, socks, and a disorganized travel pack, along with the chainmail.

Glancing toward the deep pool, he searched for his missing clothes but found no trace of them.

The situation was bizarre. Despite his composure, a faint irritation arose within him.

As his mind worked through the anomaly, the mantra of the Ice God Technique unexpectedly surfaced in his thoughts. With a deep breath, he calmed himself, letting the irritation dissipate.

Suddenly, his sharp spiritual senses picked up a faint presence.

It was as if a pair of eyes were watching him from the shadows.

As twilight deepened and the sun dipped below the horizon, this feeling of being spied upon grew more intense.

Aizen spun around, his piercing gaze locking onto a rocky wall to the west.

At that very moment, a shadowy figure darted across the wall with incredible speed.

To his shock, the figure seemed to be wearing his stolen clothes.

"Stop right there!" he shouted, his voice booming.

His eyes gleamed as he unleashed the Cold Moon Blade like a flying dagger.

"Clang!"

The blade sliced through the air, grazing the shadowy figure before embedding itself a foot deep into the rocky wall, the hilt vibrating slightly from the impact.

The mysterious figure moved with agility, avoiding a direct hit, but Aizen’s sharp eyes remained locked on the retreating form.

Whoever—or whatever—this thief was, they had made a grave mistake.

The Cold Moon Treasure Blade, sharp enough to cut through iron like mud, flew over a hundred meters and embedded itself into the rock wall after being hurled by Aizen.

However, the blade did not hit the dark shadow.

As Aizen threw the long blade, his figure followed suit. Only then did he vaguely see the appearance of the shadow.

It wasn’t a person—it was clearly a large monkey.

The monkey was wearing his clothes in a mismatched manner, the garments obviously several sizes too large, hindering its climbing speed.

Even so, its movements were exceptionally agile. With one leap, it covered several meters and stopped only upon reaching a protruding rock.

Turning around, it bared its teeth and grimaced mockingly at Aizen, who had caught up below. The monkey then picked up rocks and branches, throwing them down in imitation of Aizen’s earlier hurling action.

Aizen frowned, dodging the rocks and branches. The mischievous monkey, having stolen his clothes, climbed over ten meters up the cliff wall.

Aizen’s agility couldn’t compare to the monkey’s when it came to climbing. Although the cliff was steep, he could still ascend it at will, but his speed and dexterity were far inferior to the monkey’s.

From his observations, this monkey displayed remarkable intelligence. Sneaking away with his clothes and attempting to mimic human behavior—what an interesting creature.

Aizen scanned the valley but didn’t see any other monkeys around.

Typically, monkeys live in groups. For a monkey the size of a six- or seven-year-old child to be here alone and daring enough to toy with him was highly unusual.

Aizen lost interest. It was just a monkey, after all. If he could catch it, he would certainly slaughter it and feast on its brain. But since he lacked the means to catch the mountain monkey for now, he decided not to waste his energy on meaningless endeavors.

He charged forward a few steps, bent his knees, and leaped upward like a lark taking flight. He rose three meters high and, just before falling, kicked against the rock wall.

With a "puff," he leapt another two meters, reaching the spot where the Cold Moon Treasure Blade was embedded. Stretching out his hand, he grasped the hilt and kicked against the rock wall.

With a "swish," he drew the blade. Performing a backflip, he descended and landed steadily on the ground.

The monkey was startled by Aizen’s sudden movements. When Aizen landed, it pelted him with rocks again, aiming for his head.

Aizen’s gaze turned cold as he swung his long blade, deflecting the stones.

If he knew any throwing weapon techniques, he might have been able to hit the agile monkey with a thrown object. Otherwise, he’d have taught this mischievous creature a hard lesson.

But now wasn’t the time to argue with the monkey. After a day of practicing martial arts, his stomach was growling with hunger. He felt as if he could eat an entire cow and decided to venture into the forest to hunt some wild game to fill his belly.

At his current level of body refinement, on the verge of advancing to the Magus Body Refining Perfection Stage, he needed to eat meals that were highly nutritious and free of impurities. Ordinary fatty foods and grains weren’t ideal, as they could introduce impurities into his body and slow down his physical progress.

Many powerful Clan provided their disciples with medicinal meals to condition their bodies, including the Demon Clan.

If Aizen were still in the Clan, as a Gold Rank disciple, he would enjoy much better treatment than ordinary outer disciples.