Lu Feng stared intently at the strokes suspended all around him. In a daze, he felt his consciousness sink into a hazy trance. Countless soul fires seemed to gather around him, as though they meant to burn him to ashes.
He had sensed most of those soul fires before. He was certain he was deeply familiar with them and could easily call forth their names and specific traits.
Yet when he came into contact with them, his mind went blank, as if he had never sensed them before. They felt incomparably unfamiliar.
And amid that unfamiliarity, there was also an indescribable sense of closeness.
Under that strange sensation of familiarity and unfamiliarity, Lu Feng chose a dot-like stroke close to him and carefully sorted through the vast, chaotic soul fire auras contained within it.
It was as though he had immersed himself in an entire ocean of soul fire, with countless waves surging toward him layer upon layer.
Lu Feng gradually went from resisting them at first, to accepting them, until finally, as if assimilated, becoming part of those waves himself.
The myriad soul fires seemed to submit to him. He did not even need to deliberately sense them; they naturally unfolded their mysteries before him.
As time passed.
Lu Feng finally discovered that he had gained clear control over that dot stroke and could guide it away from the area where it had originally floated.
This was something he had been utterly incapable of doing before.
With that discovery.
Lu Feng became even more certain that the true trial on this level was this word-building "game."
First, he had to sense the innumerable soul fire auras contained in every stroke. Then, he had to control the strokes and move them. Once he assembled a specific character, he would presumably