Time on the Sky Screen began to race forward.
After the exchange conference ended, the Creation Institute truly bustled with activity for a while.
Every Titled Douluo and other important figure across the Douluo Continent left behind their own insights, and some even donated Soul Power insights their sects had never passed on to outsiders.
Yu Xiaogang led people in compiling every word spoken at the conference into volumes. The thick stack covered half a table. Back then, everyone believed there was hope. Those volumes were the Core Flame. As long as they were patient, it would eventually catch fire.
But as the days passed, the volumes grew worn, their corners curled, and people nearly memorized every word within them. Yet every path they could try had been tried. None worked.
In the first year, everyone still said, "We're just a little short."
In the second year, someone said, "Just wait a little longer."
By the third year, announcements from the Spirit Hall Branch became fewer and fewer.
By the fifth year, even the announcements barely mentioned the Creation Institute. When outsiders asked, they were only told, "The breakthrough efforts are ongoing."
The sixth year, the seventh year... there was still no progress.
Yu Xiaogang aged faster than anyone else.
Just past fifty, half his hair had turned white, and his back had begun to stoop.
He still sat at that old desk every day, writing and calculating.
Tang San had not left either. He had grown taller and thinner. Master and disciple often went an entire day without exchanging a single word.
But the world outside could no longer afford to wait.
After the Soul Beasts went extinct, the first places unable to hold on were the smaller regions.
Young Soul Masters cultivated to level ten, twenty, thirty, then