Having dealt with the instance, the next one would open in a month. As for Miracle Points, he had gained four from this instance in total. Three had long since been spent—the effects being an expanded search range for instances, a greater number of draws, a reduced cooldown for opening new instances, and an increase to the upper limit of his swordsmanship level.
Previously, it had always been two months. This time, it had been cut in half at once. As for running multiple instances simultaneously, that was no problem as long as he had enough Miracle Points. The problem now was that he did not have enough Miracle Points.
Still, instances were about quality, not quantity.
Choose the right instance, and clearing one was worth several others.
On the sun, Zhao Cheng gave the azure planet before him one last look, then vanished.
Zhao Cheng had opened the Witch instance in mid-March. Now, it was already early July.
In a single step, Zhao Cheng returned to Xiangnan. Rather than going home, he appeared on a street.
His arrival was like a drop of water melting into the sea. It stirred no ripples, and no one noticed him.
And though Zhao Cheng drifted with the crowd, he could no longer truly blend into it.
This was no longer a case of everyone being drunk while he alone remained sober. Rather, in his eyes, everything was transparent, everything visible.
Indeed, there was no reincarnation in this world—at least, not in this universe.
In a purely low-dimensional world, the spiritual intelligence of all living beings emerged from somewhere even lower, then condensed with flesh as its vessel.
Zhao Cheng had now observed this point.
To delve deeper into it was to touch upon the mysteries of creation itself—the ability to create