Wu Heng stood before the stone slab in the temple, his back to Clayton. "It won't take a year."
Clayton froze for a moment. "Then how long will it take?"
Wu Heng did not answer.
He looked at the stone slab, at those energy patterns.
He was thinking about something else.
Over forty-nine days of construction, he had not merely created buildings—he had also gained a profound understanding of the rules.
He had completely figured out that trace of Creation authority within the authority.
It was like a fuse, one capable of igniting the Creation Trait. The Creation Trait itself was a pile of explosives: immensely powerful, yet difficult to control.
Without a fuse, the explosives could only burn slowly, unable to cause much of a stir.
With a fuse, they could erupt instantly with ten times, even a hundred times, their power.
Wu Heng raised his hand and looked at the lines on his palm.
The necklace still hung around his neck, its pendant pressed against his chest, icy cold. He closed his eyes and sank his senses into that point of light.
It was glowing, countless times brighter than it had been forty-nine days ago.
But its light did not come from itself. It came from its resonance with the Creation Trait within Wu Heng. It had already been fed full—fed full by Wu Heng's power.
There was now no boundary between it and him, like two drops of water merging together.
Time to absorb it!
Wu Heng did not intend to use the authority as a tool. He intended to make it a part of himself.
He returned to Hell Palace and shut himself inside a seclusion chamber.
The chamber was not large. Runes that isolated energy had been carved across all four walls.
He brought the