But now, it was nothing more than an illusion.
When he tried to draw upon that power, he could not absorb a single thing.
Yet he was pondering the meaning behind it. Did this mean that the reason the Grand Lords could refine all things into energy was because their existence was both immensely high and immensely low, having penetrated into the ultimate subtleties, thus allowing them to refine all things?
At first, Zhao Cheng had believed that this refinement was a form of higher-dimensional control over lower dimensions. But looking at it now, he felt that perhaps it was the result of two forces acting in tandem.
Without question, Zhao Cheng had overturned one of his previous hypotheses.
But that was cultivation. With no one to guide the way, many things could only be inferred from phenomena. It was only normal for such inferences to contain errors.
As for his body and spirit, both were now conveying a sense of stability.
On a physical level, his body's strength had not changed much. Yet that sensation was undeniably real.
He did not even need to turn his awareness inward to observe himself. His body seemed to be on the verge of igniting, as if it would kindle a flame and refine away every impure thing within him.
Without question, if he took that step—if he simply allowed his body to change according to instinct—he could immediately shatter the barrier of the flesh and achieve the qualitative transformation into Pure Yang.
But Zhao Cheng restrained that feeling as well. Instinct was indeed right much of the time, but it was also wrong quite often. Most importantly, he still harbored doubts about transforming into Pure Yang.
Still, this phenomenon proved one thing.
The stronger one became, the faster one's growth would only