In a small room specially partitioned off in the basement.
The faint flame of the oil lamp flickered ceaselessly.
The entire room was pervaded with a strong odor of burning animal fat.
Although it was still daytime outside, it was impossible to distinguish day from night in here if one didn't go outside, even the sun at its zenith could only cast a dim spot of light on the underground through the winding tunnel that stretched twenty meters.
Chen Li's mouth moved silently, his abdominal cavity producing a thunderous resonance with the air.
At the same time, his hands rapidly formed incantations, coordinating with the flow of spiritual power.
Failure!
Chen Li closed his eyes to sense what had happened.
He reached for a brush and recorded his insights at that moment.
Then, he pondered for a while and made subtle adjustments to the hand incantations and incantations, and then continued practicing.
Loose Cultivators rarely used spells.
