Chapter 1602 - 670: Myriad Phenomena Cradle
Chapter 1602: Chapter 670: Myriad Phenomena Cradle
Ning Zhuo had already acquired the Myriad Phenomena Cradle.
In the matter concerning Nanming Village, he showcased his value and, through Kong Ran’s connections, attracted Kong Zhaoming’s investment in him.
"Ever since I obtained this spell, I’ve merely skimmed through it a few times and never truly learned it. Let alone performed it."
Ning Zhuo pondered carefully, once again encountering a challenge.
The Myriad Phenomena Cradle is a Talent Technique, not a Five Elements spell. Therefore, Ning Zhuo found it difficult to become familiar with, as his usual reliance on the Five Organs Temple Spirit Divine Skill couldn’t provide assistance.
"So, I need to first study diligently!"
Time was running out, and Ning Zhuo had no certainty regarding the learning outcome or the effects of Divine Skills. However, he had no other option but to give it a try.
Head Suspended by a Beam!
Vermillion hemp rope flew out from the storage bag like a Spiritual Snake, rising into the air.
Without a beam here, the hemp rope coiled upon itself multiple times in mid-air, forming a loop that tightened around the root of Ning Zhuo’s hair. A constant, slight, and clear pulling sensation from between his hair strands kept him from sinking into drowsiness, ensuring his Heart Spirit remained focused and did not easily scatter like sand.
Awl-Thorn Vigilance Art.
Ning Zhuo grabbed the Yellow Willow Wood Cone and quickly drove the awl point into the inside of his left leg.
The tip pierced an inch into the flesh, and a sharp pain instantly surged like a cold spring breaking through earth, penetrating the skin and muscle, reaching deep into the Divine Sea, quickly sharpening his thoughts and making breakthroughs easier.
Martial and Literary Wind arose.
A wisp of Literary Wind, like a light ink that turns to smoke, leisurely swirled around him, with a sound faint as silkworms nibbling mulberry leaves.
When his Divine Sense was overly exhausted, the wind transformed into Literary Energy, imbibing the Upper Dantian like lamp oil sustaining life.
Luoshu Book Pages.
Every time a Spirit Light flickered, a book page slightly brightened, similar to abacus beads being moved to the correct place by an invisible hand.
Ning Zhuo took out the Ideograph Brush again, dipping it into a bit of Bitter Ink, its color deep and somber like lacquer.
The bitterness, like a living creature, flowed with his Divine Sense into the Divine Sea, heavy as mercury, cold as iron, causing his breath to hitch and leaving a faint astringent taste on his tongue.
Ning Zhuo began to copy the Myriad Phenomena Cradle!
In the air, a small character floated, its ink traces slender like a newly sprouted bamboo joint.
The script gradually filled out, carrying a budding simplicity.
The characters became more numerous, suspended in the void, neither elaborate nor flamboyant, imbued with Ning Zhuo’s understanding of this Talent Technique.
Ning Zhuo studied continuously for five or six times until his grasp adequately increased. Once further studying yielded minimal progress, he resolutely ceased.
After a short rest, Ning Zhuo began his first attempt at casting the Myriad Phenomena Cradle.
Ning Zhuo closed his eyes.
Countless small mirrors floated in the Divine Sea’s clear sky within the Upper Dantian.
Ning Zhuo silently activated his Early Wisdom Talent.
Initially very slowly, like someone lighting a small lamp in the night. The lamp’s light wasn’t bright, but it was extremely clean. It shone in Ning Zhuo’s Divine Sea, causing the small mirrors to surface with watery reflections one by one.
Ning Zhuo silently recited the spell.
Talent Technique—Myriad Phenomena Cradle!
Deep within his head, a cool sensation slowly rose.
White mist formed, like soft strands of silk, gently entwining Ning Zhuo’s Divine Mirror. They did not merely lay over it gently, like a mother tucking a child in with a blanket, covering feet first, then hands, finally reaching the chest.
The Divine Sea gradually calmed down.
The roaring of the Five Elements grew distant.
The clattering of mechanisms also faded away.
The sounds of Array Dao deductions subsided gradually.
The faint sounds of Pill Fire flickering left no trace.
The judgments and explanations that would typically surface in his mind, now felt like volumes of books gently closed and placed in a deep cabinet. The cabinet door wasn’t locked, yet was shielded by a layer of gentle water-light. Ning Zhuo could still sense their presence, yet couldn’t reach them for the moment.
Ning Zhuo felt a sense of weakness.
This weakness wasn’t an injury, but more like a newborn child, with soft limbs, no strength in the bones, and even breathing felt weak.
Earth Guardian True Monarch observed silently, witnessing a change occurring in the light within Ning Zhuo’s eyes at that moment.
Usually, Ning Zhuo always had a layer of calculation in his eyes, even when smiling, like thin ice over water, clear yet underneath lay a chill.
At this moment, that layer of thin ice melted away.
His gaze became blank, clear, yet incredibly sharp, like a newly formed mountain spring. Every grain of white sand on the spring bed could be seen clearly, while the slightest gust, the faintest ray, or a bit of dust left a distinct reflection in his eyes.
Earth Guardian True Monarch slightly stirred a thought, raising a breeze from the ground.
The wind softly blew through.
Ning Zhuo blinked once.
The wind brushed past his sleeve, the fabric making a faint rustling sound. That sound was so light it was almost inaudible, but to Ning Zhuo at this moment, it was like one tender leaf brushing against another.
He felt a tinge of small surprise in his heart.
"Is this... wind?"
It turned out the wind could touch people.
It turned out a sleeve could respond to the wind.
It turned out that even in the air, there were invisible fingers gently brushing over everything in the world.
Ning Zhuo lowered his head to look at his own hand, finding those five fingers particularly novel. The joints bending, the skin pulling, the palm lines appearing like shallow river paths in the faint light.
"Is this my... hand?"
It turned out a hand had five fingers.
It turned out the flesh and blood body was so intricate and unfamiliar.
It turned out life was so intimately moving!
Ning Zhuo’s heart filled with joy.
That joy was tender, pure, like a sprout just breaking through the soil in early spring, carrying a hint of timidity, yet with an unstoppable upward force.
Everything felt fresh all over again.
Even a small raised bump on the ground seemed to possess lovely edges. Even the tiniest dust particles in the air seemed like little sprites rushing by carrying secrets.
Ning Zhuo felt an urge to explore, his curiosity compelling him strongly.
"What exactly are these?"
He instinctively used his Divine Sense to lift that layer of gentle water-light, seeking assistance from past knowledge and the realm.
Ning Zhuo’s intense subconscious told him the answer was here!
He flipped a page.
Just once.
Deep within the Divine Sea, colossal waves immediately surged!
The Five Elements cycle awoke, wood, fire, earth, metal, and water rotating in colors, like five startled spiritual snakes competing to emerge first.
Mechanical gears clicked and turned, silver-white components quickly interlocking, starting to analyze wind sounds, fabric, fingers, and airflow.
Array patterns spread out, dissecting the earth beneath into nodes, array lines, and possible flows of Spiritual Energy.
Alchemy Dao, talismanic Tao, blood vessels, Divine Sense, martial arts... all old knowledge erupted like disturbed schools of fish, flipping up from the depths. They were too familiar with Ning Zhuo, too accustomed to explaining the world for him. Once they surfaced, each reached out hands, tearing that pure, white mindset into pieces.
The wind became airflow again.
The earth became the manifestation of the Earth Element.
The heavens turned into the gathering of forces in the Divine Domain, Artifact Refining.
The infant-like blankness instantly vanished!
The clarity in Ning Zhuo’s eyes shattered, revealing the past contemplation and sharpness anew.
He groaned, the small mirrors within the Divine Sea violently trembled, exploding with hundreds of surfaces, nearly a thousand small mirrors showing tiny cracks.
The youth’s chest felt as if suddenly weighed down by a stone.
His breath stilled.
His mind convulsed, as though it had been lashed fiercely from the depths of his brain.
Immediately, cold sweat trickled down his sideburns, slid down his cheeks to his chin, and dripped onto his collar.
The first attempt collapsed!
"Huff... huff..." Ning Zhuo panted, summarizing the lesson.
He faced the first real hurdle in casting—a moment akin to infancy, where his subconscious actions and past inertia led his first choice to be revisiting accumulated knowledge.
"Turns out my heart relies on them so much."
The Myriad Phenomena Cradle was like creating a snowy field, clean and clear. Yet he insisted on digging, unearthing the soil hidden beneath the snow. Indeed, they were his treasures, but it dirtied the snowfield.
The Myriad Phenomena Cradle naturally failed.
"I can’t pore over them," Ning Zhuo whispered to himself.
In some sense, this was about surrendering, letting go of past dependence—a test of his resolve and willpower!
He closed his eyes, practiced Breathing Control for a long time.
Mirror Stand Spirit Communication Technique!
Indeed, it was a Top Grade Cultivation Technique—within the Divine Sea, countless small mirrors returned, many mirror cracks mended, smooth as new.
Ning Zhuo prepared thoroughly, then began the second attempt.
Early Wisdom Talent shone again. Past knowledge in the Divine Sea was again covered by soft water light, like volumes of old books returned to cabinets, doors gently closing.
Ning Zhuo no longer checked.
No longer searched.
He allowed himself to become weak, let hands and feet feel unfamiliar again, let the eyes become blank and clear. Like a baby finally willing to lie in the cradle, eyes open, quietly waiting for the world to draw near.
The wind came.
He listened to the wind.
The earth leapt into view.
He sensed the earth.
The sky’s forged patterns emerged.
He sensed the way of Artifact Refining.
It was very curious!
Before casting, Ning Zhuo sensed these array patterns, able to comprehend their heaviness, cold hardness, filled with the strong aftertaste of Iron Madness Forging Technique.
But now, under the reflection of the Myriad Phenomena Cradle, they were like a string of little bells hanging on the cradle. Each pattern was like a bell, black iron as bones, Spirit Light as tongues, wind flowing through, causing delicate sounds to echo.
The sound was so delightful!
Like mountain creek falling into a jade cup, like bamboo leaves tapping against window lattice, like someone softly calling him from a very distant place.
In that bell sound, Ning Zhuo heard "movement."
All things were moving.
The wind moved, sleeves moved, bell sounds moved. Even the heavy earth was turning ever so slowly, like a deeply sleeping yellow dragon flipping over within the ground.
Ning Zhuo’s chest gently rose and fell.
The joy within him grew even stronger.
But at that moment, the "cradle" moved.
The whole world gently rocked.
It was extremely soft.
It was not a collision, nor a tremor, like a mother nudging a wooden bed with her fingertip. Yet in Ning Zhuo’s Divine Sea, it felt like the whole world swayed with it. Countless small mirrors like leaves on water, resonating ripples outward.
With that sway, another side of all things was revealed.
The wind ceased its mere passing.
It was like a hand.
That hand, slender, transparent, with a cool touch, gently stroked Ning Zhuo’s forehead, then slid past his ear. It brought the bell sound, brought the ink fragrance, and gifted the lingering resonance of array patterns lightly quivering in the world.
The earth ceased its mere support.
It was like a thick swaddling cloth, clumsy yet obediently wrapping around Ning Zhuo. Silent, never speaking sweet words, only catching all weight securely. Ning Zhuo felt his Heart Spirit enclosed layer by layer, as if time itself wrapped in slow motion.
Forged patterns ceased to be merely bells.
As they rang, they revealed a sense of forging. That crisp sound contained memories of iron and fire, like a stern teacher speaking softly, easing the child to first lift eyes, then teaching the meaning of tempered steel!
The world began to lull him into initiation.
Incredibly gentle.
Ning Zhuo’s Early Wisdom Talent was completely drawn at that moment. It was like an overly sensitive eye, shedding light on every breeze, every bell sound, every little change in array patterns, revealing even the minutest details.
All things bowed down, each eager to offer their philosophy to the baby in the cradle.