Slowly, the basic movements began to speed up, the moves flowing into the patterns of the Shocking God Spear.
The surging of his Qi and Blood gradually intensified, and his focus of Spiritual Power grew ever sharper.
The wind from his spear began to howl within the Cultivation Room as black afterimages of the weapon crisscrossed through the air.
Xu Wuyi was completely immersed, trying again and again to reproduce the epiphany from his mind.
Sometimes it was smooth, other times it was sluggish.
Whenever he felt sluggish, he would stop, furrow his brow in thought, and adjust the minute angles of his Qi and Blood transport or change how he applied his Spiritual Will.
Sweat soon drenched his training clothes. Veins throbbed at his temples, and a familiar, pulsing ache spread through his sea of consciousness—a sign of his rapidly depleting Spiritual Power.
But he paid it no mind, his entire Heart and Spirit focused on the long spear in his hand.
