A month had passed since the battle for the meditation cushions.
The once lively Azure Stone Plaza now lay empty and desolate, not a single figure in sight.
Buzz—
At that moment, ripples spread across the space beside the ancient stone tablet, like waves upon water. A figure stepped out of the distortion.
As soon as the figure appeared, a streak of spiritual light shot from the shifting void, condensing beneath him into a worn-out cushion.
Wang Jianqiang emerged and instinctively scanned his surroundings with sharp vigilance.
After confirming that the plaza was deserted, he exhaled in relief.
Just as he was about to leave, the cushion beneath his feet released a sudden beam of light, merging into the pitch-black tablet.
The next instant, a stream of information surged into his mind:
"After ten trials within the medicine garden, evaluation: Excellent. You may now enter the Desolate Monument to select a cultivation method or spell."
Wang Jianqiang froze for a heartbeat.
Before he could react, a beam of inky light shot out from the monument, enveloping him completely.
The black light looked unremarkable, yet within it surged a boundless force.
Against this power, Wang Jianqiang felt as insignificant as a drop of water in a vast ocean. He had no strength to resist—not even his thoughts could move, as though frozen solid.
In the next moment, the dark radiance drew back into the monument, carrying him along.
The instant he entered, he felt himself swallowed by a world of darkness.
He could see nothing, and even his spiritual sense was sealed within his body, unable to extend outward.
Just as he began to feel unsettled, a gentle voice resonated in his ears:
"Trial-taker, I am the spirit of the Desolate Monument."
"All you need do is display the techniques you have mastered. The cultivation methods and spells most suited to you will be drawn to your presence."
"Remember—your time is limited to one hour. When the time ends, whether or not you gain anything, you will be expelled."
"Now… the selection begins."
Hearing this, Wang Jianqiang's eyes gleamed with interest.
So, by displaying his strengths, he would attract compatible techniques?
How intriguing.
He extended his palm.
Within his hand, a miniature array of the Wood element took form.
Moments later, spheres of green light began drifting from the depths of the darkness, swiftly floating toward him.
Dozens of them in all.
Their brightness varied greatly.
Some glowed faintly, like candles in the wind, fragile and ready to be extinguished at any moment.
Others shone with piercing radiance, dazzling to behold.
"The brightness must correspond to the strength of the technique within each orb," he reasoned, studying them carefully.
He did not rush to choose.
With only one chance, he had to be cautious.
Next, he displayed his Golden Sword Array, Water Sword Array, Fire Sword Array, and Earth Sword Array in succession—summoning a flood of multicolored light spheres.
Finally, he fused the five arrays together into the Minor Five Elements Sword Array.
For a long moment, the darkness was silent. Then, three radiant orbs drifted forward.
Each one shimmered with rainbow brilliance, dazzling beyond words.
Their glow surpassed all the orbs that had come before.
Yet even among them, there was distinction: the central orb shone like a miniature sun, its radiance suppressing the other two.
The instant he saw it, Wang Jianqiang felt an overwhelming urge to claim it.
His hand rose involuntarily…
Then he bit down hard on his tongue.
The pain cleared his mind.
"No. I still have techniques I haven't revealed."
He withdrew his hand.
"Size Manipulation."
At his silent command, his body suddenly doubled in size.
The moment he unleashed this technique, a torrent of white orbs burst forth from the darkness—thousands of them.
Among them, one shone so brilliantly it rivaled the rainbow "sun."
Wang Jianqiang's heart surged with desire once more.
"Yes… this is the one."
Just as he resolved to choose the radiant white orb, a faintly glowing gray orb drifted lazily into view, moving at its own unhurried pace.
It seemed unimpressive.
But the instant it appeared, every other orb dimmed its light. Even the brightest two were forced into silence.
More astonishingly, all the orbs moved aside, opening a path.
Down that path, the gray orb floated calmly, as though it had always been destined to arrive.
When it stopped before him, Wang Jianqiang's eyes lit up.
According to the rules, the orb that resonated with him most strongly was supposed to be the most suitable choice.
Yet this gray orb stirred no attraction within him.
Ordinary cultivators would choose compatibility over raw strength. What use was a powerful technique if one could not master it?
But Wang Jianqiang was no ordinary man.
He had his system.
Compatibility? Meaningless.
As long as he had enough cultivation points, he could master anything.
What mattered was strength.
And so, without hesitation, he reached for the gray orb.
The moment his fingers brushed it, the artifact spirit's voice echoed:
"Selection complete."
At once, dark light enveloped him and carried him out of the monument.
When he returned to the plaza, he stood frozen, unmoving.
For the instant his hand touched the gray orb, an influx of information had rushed into his mind.
Now, he was deciphering it.
"The Sacred Body of Time."
"No restrictions on aptitude. No restrictions on comprehension. All beings may cultivate it."
"Compete with heaven and earth, share brilliance with the very sun."
"Each year, one Life Mark."
"With sheer strength, break all laws."
…
As he finished absorbing the message, clarity dawned.
The Sacred Body of Time.
Despite the grandiose description, it was, in essence, simple—survival.
The longer one lived, the stronger one became.
For each year cultivated, one Life Mark could be condensed.
Each Life Mark strengthened the body and added thirty jin of raw force.
For example, in a thousand years, one could condense a thousand Life Marks, gaining thirty thousand jin of strength.
Yet even a Nascent Soul cultivator had only a thousand-year lifespan.
And to those beings, who could move mountains and fill seas with ease, what was thirty thousand jin? Less than a sneeze.
Even Core Formation cultivators could casually unleash hundreds of thousands of jin with a single strike.
For ordinary cultivators, the so-called Sacred Body of Time was worthless.
But Wang Jianqiang was different.
He had cultivation points.
Time meant nothing to him.
Each point equaled a year of bitter cultivation.
Each point meant one Life Mark.
With enough points, he could amass countless Life Marks in the blink of an eye.
A thousand Life Marks might mean little to a Nascent Soul, but what about to someone still at the Foundation Establishment stage?
Excitement blazed in his eyes.
This was the perfect path for him—endless, without bottlenecks or limits.
Huff—
Immersed in his joy, he suddenly sensed spatial fluctuations nearby.
His head snapped up.
From the rippling void stepped a graceful figure.
His expression froze.
"Lin Xian'er?!"
"How did this woman escape?!"