Chapter 1467 - 942: Awakening

Chapter 1467: Chapter 942: Awakening

Within the Rule dome, that bizarre and variegated Chaos space was, at this moment, suffused with a strange silence.

Countless Rule projections of all shapes and forms still drifted, flowed, and collided like stars, flickering with the radiance of origin.

Yet in the Core Area of the space, the first batch of trial-takers who had entered were like creatures frozen within Amber, suspended against a backdrop of gentle white light, each immersed in a completely different "world".

Their forms were wrapped and shaped by the Rule Power they themselves had chosen.

One Member of the Holy Light Church was entirely shrouded by a mass of pure, condensed Holy Light, exuding warmth and a majestic aura.

It formed a perfectly round Light Ball, within which faint runes seemed to flicker in and out, sacred and beyond prying eyes.

Another Warrior of the Light Protector Legion was wrapped by a dark, viscous Metal liquid that flowed slowly as though it possessed Life.

It solidified into a rough humanoid Metal sculpture, glinting with a cold, hard sheen.

One Night Patrol teammate had their body tightly bound by countless chains woven from Shadow and starlight; the ends of the chains vanished into nothingness, as if they were being dragged into some profound Shadow Realm.

Others were encased within flowing water, leaping flames, or spinning dust...

Forms differed, grotesque and wondrous, together composing a scene that transcended reality, silently narrating the myriad faces of Rule Power.

They were like slumbering seeds, under the watering of Rule origin, awaiting the moment to break the cocoon and become butterflies.

Within this silence, a minuscule ripple, like the first stone cast into a still lake, quietly spread out.

Vane, who was wrapped in a mass of slowly circulating Silver Metal, liquid like mercury, suddenly opened his eyes wide!

"Huu—!"

A breath, heavy with vast emotion, like a gasp torn free from suffocation, boomed within the depths of his consciousness.

In the real space, his body remained unmoving, but deep within those abruptly opened eyes, a streak of golden light as sharp as the edge of a newly forged sword flashed by like a Thunderbolt tearing through Chaos, then vanished.

At the instant the golden light withdrew, the liquid Metal wrapping his body seemed to lose its core gravity.

In a blink it went from fluid to rigid and solid, then shrank back, reconverged, reshaped, reverting to that original deep, cold, sharply edged square steel block.

This Rule projection symbolizing the origin of steel swayed twice faintly before Vane, like some silent confirmation.

Then, like a drop of ink cast into water, it noiselessly dispersed into the surrounding flowing white Chaos light, completely merging into this sea of Rules.

With the fetters lifted, Vane’s body swayed slightly; he instinctively adjusted his posture, once more hovering steadily in midair.

He lowered his head.

Blankly, he spread open his callus-covered palms, which at this moment felt somewhat unfamiliar to him.

His finger joints tightened and relaxed unconsciously, feeling the real touch of flesh and blood.

In his mind, that long, chaotic "journey" filled with primal instinct and bodily memory—

From surging lava to veins buried deep in the earth, from Forging smelters to being tempered a thousand times over, from trekking barren mountains to digging in mines, then to hammering upon the Anvil, and finally seeking survival with a sword on a blood-soaked battlefield...

Scene after scene rose like faded images, carrying a strong sense of unreality, yet etched into the depths of his soul with indelible sharpness.

"A marionette..."

Vane’s throat felt somewhat dry; the word slipped out of him uncontrollably.

That feeling of being muddle-headed from beginning to end, dragged forward by an invisible force, when recalled in clarity, filled him with an indescribable, instinctive rejection and a faint shudder.

As though his own will had been crudely kneaded and shaped solely to fit some cold and merciless mold.

He forced himself to take a deep breath, trying to suppress this discomfort.

As he sorted through the trial experience and turned his gaze inward to his own Status, a certain understanding gradually came into focus.

"Steel... such a vast Rule..."

Vane muttered under his breath, his voice tinged with a rasp and shock born of just breaking through.

He understood that, with his cultivation just stepping into the Legendary realm, attempting to fully grasp "steel"—this immense Domain of Rules that encompasses material properties, Forging techniques, and even spiritual symbolism—was nothing less than delusion.

This Trial Space had not provided him with a pre-made, narrow little Rule path; instead, it had brutally hurled his entire being into the source of the mighty long river of the "steel" Rule.

It had made him, through the entire Life course of ore’s birth, smelting, hammering, and shaping, passively feel and instinctively "become" steel itself.

Rules possess no wisdom; they merely, by instinct, drag any Life that touches their interface into their vast and primordial "experience".

"Instinct, again instinct."

Vane chewed on the word, his gaze complex.

That process of ignorance and unawareness, relying solely on bodily memory to dig, to Forge, to fight—did it not perfectly mirror every stage steel undergoes in being unearthed, smelted, hammered, and in the end becoming a finished Weapon?

Each stage contained a Rule branch that could be comprehended independently.

The tenacity of ore, the destruction and rebirth of lava, the shaping and condensing in hammering, the clash and fixing of form during quenching, the Sharp edge and protection of the Weapon...

And at the end of this trial road, filled with Chaos and blood, what he finally seized was the "Rule branch" represented by that sword he had personally forged and personally stained with blood upon the battlefield.

A "tenacity" trait of "steel constructs · Weapons".