The Dead Abyss Lake was still and dark as ink, and time seemed to stagnate upon the platform. A three-day period meant nothing more than a few deep meditative states and several circulations for cultivators.
Wu Fanshanhai sat cross-legged at the center of the ruined array diagram, the clear light of a jade seal swirling above his head. The thin strands of yin energy reluctantly gathered by the Array, mixed with his own Nascent Soul Magical Power, slowly repairing his damaged meridians and the shaken Nascent Soul. His face remained pale, but his aura was much more stable than when he first arrived. His eyes occasionally opened and closed, revealing a glimmer of the formidable recovery ability and foundation of a Nascent Soul Cultivator.
