Chapter 4: Awakening Creation

Ning Zhuo approached the alchemical furnace in the corner. Within the furnace blazed a fierce fire, and amidst the flames stood a mechanical monkey, half the height of a man, enduring the scorching heat at every moment.

The monkey’s skeletal frame was upright, its entire body covered in vivid red fur so lifelike it seemed to breathe—only its muscles were slowly degrading in the fire, seeping out from every crevice.

The Lava Immortal Palace lay hidden within volcanic magma. Ning Zhuo needed to control the Fireburst Monkey, laden with a thousand catties of Fire Essence, to traverse the dense magma and attach itself to the palace surface for a self-detonation.

But now, the monkey’s muscles could no longer bear the strain.

“If Cloud-patterned Soft Silver won’t work, I’ll try something else.”

Ning Zhuo sat at his worktable. As planned, tonight he would attempt to use Sooty Clay.

The reddish-brown Sooty Clay emitted a pungent odor. Ning Zhuo fetched a small wooden mallet and began to pound the clay. Each strike produced a dull thud, breaking apart the clumps within. Whenever a spark flared from the clay, the mallet released a chill, snuffing the ember instantly.

Ning Zhuo had specially designed and crafted this little mallet for handling Sooty Clay. If an examiner from the Grand Assessment saw this, they would immediately rate Ning Zhuo’s talismanic technique as exceptional.

Low, medium, and high marks were the norm; exceptional was exceedingly rare—there might not be a single candidate in a given year. It meant the usual standard could no longer describe such excellence in a young cultivator.

When every lump in the Sooty Clay had fully dissolved, a layer of fire oil had pooled on the surface. Ning Zhuo took a square cloth of cotton and laid it atop the clay. With a surge of spiritual power, the formation woven into the cloth activated, swiftly absorbing every drop of fire oil.

This cloth, too, was Ning Zhuo’s design, but instead of talismanic symbols, he had arranged a miniature array upon it. The craftsmanship of this formation was likewise of exceptional standard.

Meticulously, Ning Zhuo checked to ensure the Sooty Clay was properly refined before he began kneading it. The processed fire-oil clay was perfectly sticky; under his deft fingers, it became supple and fine. Any remaining impurities were flushed out by his spiritual power.

He then detached one arm from the mechanical monkey and coated the skeletal structure with the refined Sooty Clay.

Ning Zhuo’s ten fingers were pale and clean, moving with agility and precision under the glow of the spirit lamp. He was utterly focused, oblivious to the passing of time. In that moment, the young man exuded a charm born of complete dedication.

The Sooty Clay quickly took shape under his hands; the bare bones of the monkey’s arm soon bore full, blood-red muscle.

Of course, he was not merely shaping the exterior; throughout, he continually channeled spiritual power into the clay, refining its inner structure. A simple cut into the muscle would reveal that the red clay within also mimicked the texture of real muscle.

Such mastery in shaping materials would astonish even the elders of the academy. If this became known, Ning Zhuo would surely become the star pupil, a testament to the academy’s talent and effort.

Once the shaping was complete, Ning Zhuo began testing the arm in various ways.

It was not satisfactory.

Sooty Clay had excellent fire resistance, but it was terribly incompatible with spiritual power.

“It needs improvement.”

Ning Zhuo began to recall.

“Sooty Clay mixed with Thunder Sand yields explosives, often used for blasting mountains or combating beasts.”

“Sooty Clay combined with toxins can be refined into Poison Pills. When broken down, these pills release a toxic, fiery smoke screen, useful for blocking or defending against enemies.”

“Sooty Clay can also be blended with coal, burned in the forge to maintain high temperatures for long periods.”

Over the years, Ning Zhuo had done his utmost to commit every scrap of knowledge he could access to memory.

On weekends, he would often spend entire days in his family’s library, from dawn till dusk, forgetting even to eat or sleep.

No one knew that unassuming Ning Zhuo was in truth a living library.

He dredged up everything he knew about Sooty Clay, but found no solution for improving it.

“No matter. I’ll design my own formula!”

The youth’s eyes gleamed with confidence and boldness.

“Sooty Clay is warm by nature, entering the heart and liver meridians. The fire-oil vapor dispels damp and cold from the bones, and a small amount can treat abdominal pain from cold stagnation.”

“If combined with Well Moon Water, the fiery and aqueous natures might balance, perhaps reducing the weight.”

“If I use the tail feather of a Swiftbird as a guiding agent and refine them together... perhaps the airy, mobile quality of the feather would lend lightness and dynamism, allowing the main ingredient, Sooty Clay, to perform at its peak.”

“The catkins of the Spirit-Seclusion Willow might also suffice. If I refine the clay with willow fluff, referencing recipes like the Lightness Pill or the Pure-Turbid Powder, the resulting material would likely be much lighter.”

Ning Zhuo’s mind was sharp, his reasoning logical; in moments, he had conjured several possible recipes.

For this alone, never mind his results in alchemy—his family would surely take pains to bind him tightly to their house.

Ning Zhuo began experimenting with new materials.

He rummaged through his stores and found at least seven possible approaches.

Well Moon Water?

Failure.

The resulting clay was somewhat less sticky and lighter, but its fire resistance was greatly diminished.

Swiftbird feather?

A complete failure.

He was left with nothing but a pile of dust.

Yet Ning Zhuo was delighted: “The wind nature of the feather is too strong. My understanding of this material has deepened.”

He tried a third time, using Spirit-Seclusion Willow fluff.

The resulting clay bore willow-patterned striations; its stickiness remained, fire resistance was only slightly reduced, but the weight dropped sharply. All other tests were passed.

“Lucky! I didn’t expect to get an ideal outcome on the third try… huh.”

His joy was short-lived. The willow-patterned striations began to float upward, with pure rising and turbid sinking—a process that caused the clay’s structure to deteriorate.

The new clay was not stable.

He attempted a fourth formula—another major failure.

He paused to reflect, but did not rush forward. Instead, he delved deeper into the Spirit-Seclusion Willow solution.

“This approach is close to success and adaptable to all forms of spiritual power. All I need is to stabilize its structure.”

“But how?”

Old problems solved, new ones arose. Yet Ning Zhuo was not discouraged; on the contrary, he was only more eager, his mind all the more focused. Immersed in the process, he found not boredom or fatigue, but a joy that welled up from within.

In this state, he felt his own existence, his own worth.

He knew he was creating something that had never existed in nature.

This anticipation, this sense of accomplishment, was a pleasure nothing else could give.

What was torture to others was to him a delight, a spiritual joy.

Time slipped by unnoticed, and Ning Zhuo, lost in thought, was oblivious.

Who knows how long passed before his eyes suddenly shone.

“To solve this technical problem, I’ll need a dynamic array.”

But knowledge of that caliber was far beyond his curriculum; the family academy had never taught it.

Ning Zhuo stood up and paced his underground workshop.

After a moment’s thought, he stopped, lifted his chin slightly, his mind already made up: “Chen Cha... known as the Living Array Master, is most skilled in dynamic arrays. And crucially, he’s also a master of mechanisms.”

“It’s time to seek him out.”