Time seemed to have lost all measure.
Only the cyan-gray waterfall flowed on without end, washing over the pool and the figure seated before the stone tablet.
An unknown amount of time passed.
Perhaps it was an instant, perhaps an eternity.
Qi Yun, who had been sitting cross-legged in meditation, seemingly one with the dark stone tablet, finally trembled his eyelashes and slowly opened his eyes.
The moment he opened them, deep within his eyes,
an indescribable flicker of profound Divine Rhyme—ancient, deep, and seemingly holding the primordial secrets of creation—flashed and vanished.
It was not a Realm he could have possibly possessed on his own.
Rather, it was an imprint left behind,
seared into his body and Divine Soul after staring directly at the trajectory of the Great Dao for so long.
In almost the same instant that his consciousness fully returned,
the [Magic Technique Panel] appeared silently before his eyes, its screen of light flowing and as clear as ever.
