Xu Yi racked his brains, yet still couldn't figure out why such a bizarre turn of events had occurred.
He carefully controlled the condensation of the Heavenly Spear. Once, twice... countless times. He no longer dared hope that he could wield the Heavenly Spear.
He only wanted to understand why it shattered—or rather, he wanted to grasp the feeling of it breaking apart.
After another day and night of hard work, Xu Yi had no idea how many thousands or tens of thousands of times he had gathered it. His True Soul in the spiritual platform was utterly exhausted; he couldn't even keep sitting cross-legged and collapsed onto the ground.
His mind and body were both at the very limits of exhaustion, yet his thoughts remained incredibly clear and sharply etched. Because of that clarity, the agony of this intense emptiness was magnified considerably.
Xu Yi knew very well that the Heavenly Spear Technique was failing to condense not because there was a problem with the cultivation method, but most likely because of those particles. It was like how water could flow together, but once frozen into shards, those pieces could no longer join to form a single, whole block of ice.
That was exactly what had happened with the failed condensation of the Heavenly Spear.
Could these fragmented particles really be useless?
Xu Yi didn't think so. After resting for a moment and recovering somewhat, he shifted his thoughts. Vast swaths of thought walls appeared around him, each one rapidly shattering and then reforming.
They repeatedly faded away and came into being.
This was precisely what Xu Yi had chanced upon while trying to condense the Heavenly Spear Technique.
The particles weren't useless. Their remarkable density had nearly turned them into solid matter, and the defensive power of these