Inside Pangu Hall, time seemed to be frozen by an invisible force, with only the candle flickering tirelessly, its faint yet steadfast light witnessing Xingtian's day-in, day-out, year-after-year of grueling comprehension over these long years. Throughout this hundred-year span of time, Xingtian appeared entirely cut off from the outside world, immersing himself heart and soul into the unfathomable, wondrous world of the Twelve Capital Gods and Demons Formation.
His soul was closely bound to those complex, ever-changing, and mysterious runes and formation patterns, as though they had become an indispensable part of his life. His figure stood as sturdy and indestructible as a towering sculpture that had weathered the ages, planted firmly in the center of the grand hall. No matter how sweat soaked his garments, clinging tightly to his body, and no matter how fatigue eroded his body and mind like wave after wave of a relentless tide, trying to make him yield, he remained as unyielding as a resolute boulder, never slacking off even in the slightest.
Outside the hall, the shifting winds and clouds played out like a never-ending grand performance, with the four seasons quietly turning unannounced. In spring, flowers bloomed in brilliant, colorful profusion, releasing enchanting fragrances; in summer, the blazing sun poured its scorching light mercilessly across the earth, baking all things in the world; in autumn, fallen leaves drifted like dancing butterflies suspended in the ai…
Chapter 138