Chapter 470: Chapter 275: Cultivation World 65_2
"Disciple exchange." Si Lingle’s voice was as calm as if she were exchanging an ordinary Immortal Stone.
The elder looked at the young female disciple in front of him, so composed and unruffled, and at the Identity Jade Token she handed over. The last trace of doubt and shock in his eyes transformed into deep scrutiny and an indescribable complexity.
To exchange eight thousand Contribution Points so calmly for a ’worthless item’? Either this female disciple was deeply hidden, with extremely sharp insight... or she was crazy.
In the end, he didn’t ask another question. He simply took the jade token, his movements much steadier, and pressed it onto a special jade plate behind the counter. The plate flashed with light, instantly deducting eight thousand Contribution Points.
A moment later, the elder handed Si Lingle’s jade token back to her, along with a Profound Black Jade Box used to store precious items, with a Sealing Rune affixed to it. The dark fragment she brought—the "Void Valley" recorded—lay quietly inside the jade box.
"Take care." The elder’s voice was meaningful, uttering only those four words.
As Si Lingle took the box in her hands, she could clearly perceive the slight wriggling of the ink-like Array Patterns on the fragment inside the box, as well as the deeper thirst for immortal power that the jade box and talismans barely suppressed.
"Thank you, Elder." Si Lingle put away the jade box and Identity Jade Token, gave a slight bow, and then turned to leave without hesitation.
Si Lingle’s silhouette disappeared outside the Wanxiang Hub’s hall door, leaving behind the elder’s long gaze and the faint murmurs of the surrounding disciples.
And the dark fragment inscribed with ancient starry sky taboos, the "Three Enclosures·Void·Fragments," was now entirely in Si Lingle’s hands.
In the silent cultivation chamber, only a sliver of moonlight slanted in from the high window, cutting a patch of cold silver on the ground.
The air was still, dust particles suspended in the beam of light, as if time itself slowed its pace at this moment.
Si Lingle sat cross-legged on a meditation cushion, her posture as steady as a rock, her expression frosty. Her gaze was deeply locked on the open Profound Black Jade Box before her.
The non-metallic, non-jade dark fragment—the "Void Valley Piece"—lay quietly in the glow of the sealing talisman, its mysterious ink-colored patterns seemingly coming to life in the darkness, flowing and twisting silently and slowly.
Si Lingle’s fingertips, with a hint of tentative coolness, did not break the Sealing Talisman, but lightly touched the cold surface of the fragment through the faint immortal power barrier.
Buzz—
An intangible vibration instantly penetrated her fingertips.
It was as if a drop of ink fell into a silent, ancient deep pool, suddenly exploding in her sea of consciousness!
A soundless explosion yet shook the foundation of her soul. In an instant, the image of the quiet chamber in front of her crumbled, collapsed, and vanished! In its place was an endless, cold, absolute dark void.
No stars, no light, only the dead quiet "void."
Is this the "Void"?
No, Si Lingle forcibly gathered her Divine Sense, that cold touch her only anchor. She "looked" toward the dark core—the place reflected by the ink patterns of the fragment.
Not absolute darkness; there, the ink patterns were like a black hole’s vortex, crazily devouring the already sparse light and perception around them. Each wriggle of the patterns was like a silent, greedy gulp.
At the edge of this all-consuming vortex, a mutation suddenly occurred!
The broken, dim light, almost extinguished, like the tear streak of a final meteor, suddenly burst forth in the extreme "void" realm!
It wasn’t an external light but a shred of ancient, stubborn will left after the "Void" itself ground and wore it to the extreme!
The fragmented starlight!
They weren’t in clusters but exploded points of star dust, chaotic yet embodying a logic-defying, disorderly pattern that made one’s heart tremble.
Each blast of star dust carried a torn trajectory imprint—was it the moment a star was born?
Was it the instant the Star Remains crumbled?
Was it the broken threads of a galaxy’s orbit?
Countless fragments of information, like a violent snowstorm, crashed into Si Lingle’s Divine Sense without warning!
"Puh—" Agony erupted from the depths of her soul.
Si Lingle’s body swayed imperceptibly, a faint trail of blood trickled from her lips, blooming like a monstrous plum blossom in the dark night. The veins on her forehead became visible, and cold sweat instantly soaked her inner clothes.
This torrent of information was too crude, too fragmented, carrying the weight and chaos of the ancient starry sky, almost tearing her consciousness into a billion pieces, ready to be absorbed into the endless devouring vortex.
