Jia Xiu now understood why the casters of the Soul Magic Plane never recorded their specific observation methods.
Because there really had been no need to record them.
You just had to look.
After temporarily borrowing Justina's divine authority, accompanied by prayers whose volume had been lowered but which still overlapped so densely they sounded like the whispers of ancient gods, Jia Xiu saw countless points of light within the void, turning what had once been silent emptiness into a dazzling starry sky.
The Van Gogh kind, at that.
The points of light surged and spiraled, twisting and intertwining as they churned the two overlapping dimensions.
Every vortex of light radiated a warm white or golden-yellow halo, fading from bright to dim as it blended into the flowing void.
A light point took only a few seconds to appear and vanish. Old ones dissipated while new ones were born, forming tides of halos that rose and fell without end.
Viewed from different angles, it could be said to brim with vigorous life, or to contain only the sorrow of an inevitable march toward extinction.
But one thing was certain: failing to see this thing could only mean you were "blind."
So the void had been this "lively" all along.
Jia Xiu immediately pulled up the relevant materials for verification and comparison. At last, he understood what the parameters in those derivations actually referred to.
They were the duration for which those light points remained, their diameters calculated by measuring distance and comparing them against a standard reference object. What gave Jia Xiu a bit of a headache was that, thanks to the Memory Palace's unified-unit effect, the standard reference object was listed as 1.66582 meters long. If even the standard reference object looked like that, then the remaining figures in