The air in the Meditation Room grew somewhat humid.
The faint blue halo of the Deep Sea Echo Conch pulsed outward in rings, making it seem as if the entire room was submerged in the depths of the ocean.
Allen sat cross-legged, his eyes tightly shut.
The fifth Core Matrix was like an unfinished Tower of Babel, with thirty-six Will Runes as its load-bearing pillars. The nineteenth was already complete, and the twentieth was slowly taking shape.
According to the cultivation efficiency boosted by the Echo Conch, if he ground it out for another thirteen months, he could inscribe the [Golem Projection Formula] and steadily push open the door to becoming a Second-level Wizard.
But war, that damned thing, never plays by the rules.
The Beast Tide wasn't going to give him a thirteen-month grace period to develop.
Twenty days.
No, the countdown was already down to nineteen days.
The moment his thoughts fell into disarray, a stroke of a Rune went askew.
