Chapter 72

Chapter 72: Digging Through a Planet

The two seal-chen stone continued to fire Starforce at each other. Even after Mu Ran let go, they kept colliding and exchanging shots without stopping.

“Automation?” Wang Jie blurted.

Mu Ran nodded, pleased. “Yes. Arrays are automation.”

His voice took on the tone of a teacher indulging an ignorant student. “The most basic way arrays connect is through frequency. Think of it as how much damage a given pattern can inflict on a region of void.”

He pointed. “Now tell me—what do you see?”

Wang Jie watched for a moment, then answered cautiously. “The strength of the attacks is the same.”

Mu Ran smiled. “Not strength. Frequency.”

He leaned back. “The force I draw from the first stone to strike the second becomes the force the second stone uses to strike back. Between these two stones, the exchange will always remain at that same level…”

His gaze sharpened. “…until the Starforce in both stones is exhausted.”

Wang Jie swallowed. “So this is the array path?”

Mu Ran scoffed. “This is the most basic principle. Arrays are far more complex.”

He stared at Wang Jie. “Do you know why array adepts are respected?”

Wang Jie shook his head honestly.

Mu Ran reached into his storage ring and produced a dead ant.

Then he tossed it between the two seal-chen stone.

The ant vanished—erased so completely it was as if it had never existed.

Mu Ran’s voice dropped, solemn and heavy. “To an array adept, a cultivator is like that ant. As long as an array’s power is strong enough, it can ignore the gap in realms and erase someone by force.”

Wang Jie’s eyes flicked to Mu Ran’s storage ring. Of all things to carry around…

Mu Ran’s gaze snapped onto him.

Wang Jie immediately forced his expression into awe. “T-That strong?”

Mu Ran smiled, satisfied. “Good. Now you understand the principle.”

He waved a hand, dismissing the lecture. “Next, when we arrive, you’ll attack the planet and dig down. You’ll bury the array stones—seal-chen stone—at designated points deep inside.”

“It’s simple,” he added with contempt. “This kind of labor isn’t what array adepts should be doing.”

Wang Jie agreed at once.

On the way to their first target, Wang Jie kept up his flattery until Mu Ran’s mood rose, and in return he learned more.

For instance, seal-chen stone and chen artifact weren’t truly opposites. According to Mu Ran, higher-level array adepts could treat chen artifact as array stones. Some could even use cultivators or starry-sky behemoth as array stones.

Wang Jie immediately praised Mu Ran as the kind of high-level array adept who could do that.

Mu Ran pretended to be modest, then tossed Wang Jie a seal-chen stone.

Wang Jie studied it. There was Starforce inside, but not much.

If he could fill it with the Starforce inside a chen artifact…

That thought sent him right back to Mu Ran with even more flattering words, until Mu Ran was practically glowing.

“The Starforce inside seal-chen stone?” Mu Ran said, as if insulted by the question. “Of course it comes with it. I don’t have the ability to fill it with Starforce.”

He snorted. “Just like chen artifact, the materials come from the universe itself. Like stars, they naturally carry Starforce.”

“There are exceptions,” he added. “Something called a chen refiner. But they’re rare. Not worth discussing.”

Wang Jie nodded, attentive.

Mu Ran continued, clearly enjoying his role as teacher. “You cultivate Lockforce, so you don’t understand. Anyone who cultivates Starforce tries to control as many planets as possible. Every planet has Starforce—just more or less.”

He lifted the seal-chen stone. “Chen artifact materials. Seal-chen stone. Planets. Same principle. Starforce comes with them.”

“Common sense,” he said smugly. “At least, common sense on our side. I’ve heard that some high-level experts can turn themselves into stars and absorb Starforce directly from the universe. Someone like that should be able to give seal-chen stone Starforce too…”

He rambled on, and the more he spoke, the more Wang Jie felt Mu Ran was dreaming about such heights himself.

By the end of it, Mu Ran was in such a good mood he tossed Wang Jie another seal-chen stone and even patted his shoulder. “I like you.”

By the time they reached their destination, Wang Jie had already deepened five of the marks in his body to dark gray.

The disaster materials were running low. The farther he pushed, the more each step cost.

He should have bought more in Silver Radiance Imperial Capital.

“It’s this planet,” Mu Ran said, pointing. “It’s not big. Drill straight down. Stop when you reach the area above the core—I’ll tell you when.”

His voice hardened. “But remember: your destruction cannot spread beyond a three-meter radius. Not even a little. You must carve a tunnel straight through.”

Wang Jie crouched and touched the ground.

Honestly, the Silver Radiance Empire could drill through this with technology far more efficiently. Why insist on a cultivator?

He asked. Mu Ran’s answer was smug and vague—arrays were profound; even if he explained, Wang Jie wouldn’t understand.

“Normally,” Mu Ran said, “a Ten Seals Lockforce cultivator needs about two days to reach that depth. Don’t rush. And don’t forget the rule—your destructive force must not spread beyond three meters, or the Starforce you draw out will warp.”

“I understand,” Wang Jie said. “Don’t worry, Master Mu Ran.”

Mu Ran grunted, satisfied, and waved him forward.

Wang Jie rose into the air and stared down.

Three meters. Precise.

Given enough time, a Ten Seals cultivator could grind a planet down and destroy it. But that was slow destruction. A Star-Breaking Realm expert destroyed a planet in one strike.

Completely different.

If Wang Jie went all out, he suspected he could attempt to crack this planet in one blow.

But now was not the time.

One of the materials for sword steps came from Star-gazing sword form’s Star-Destroying move.

So he used Star-gazing sword form.

He gripped his sword and thrust downward.

In the distance, Mu Ran looked up, surprised. “Good sword method.”

Wang Jie didn’t fully unleash it.

Star-gazing sword form was comparable to Heaven-and-Earth Luo Xuan Finger—an ultimate secret art that even Jia Yi Sect had lost. If it were exposed, others would covet it. So Wang Jie kept his strength tightly restrained, using less than one-tenth of its true power.

Even so, Mu Ran was impressed.

The first thrust pierced more than five thousand meters into the ground.

And that was with force held back.

This planet was far smaller than Blue Star. By the math, to reach the required depth in two days, he would need to dig more than a thousand kilometers per day. For a normal Ten Seals cultivator, every full-power strike demanded recovery—Starforce and rest—taking roughly an hour. Even if they refused to rest, their strikes would still need to carve out a path more than forty kilometers long each time.

That was the standard.

Mu Ran frowned at the shallow result. “That’s it? At this speed you’ll need half a month.”

“Master,” Wang Jie said smoothly, “I was only testing. I’ll be faster from here.”

Mu Ran’s eyes narrowed. “Hope so. Don’t waste my time.”

“Sorry to trouble Master,” Wang Jie replied.

As soon as Mu Ran turned away, Wang Jie struck again.

This time he opened a passage more than twenty kilometers deep.

Mu Ran raised an eyebrow. Not bad.

Truthfully, his “two-day standard” was based on Ten Seals cultivators from Frost Splendor Sect. Ordinary Ten Seals cultivators out here needed at least ten days. At Wang Jie’s pace, five days would be enough.

Five days… yes. That should be enough for Mu Ran, too.

There was something Mu Ran didn’t say.

The reason he had Wang Jie drill down instead of using the empire’s technological weapons was simple: those weapons had been reassigned.

Mu Ran wasn’t the only array adept here. Many had been secretly dispatched from Frost Splendor Sect.

And the arrays they were setting up weren’t simple. They were building Double-Spike Formation.

It wasn’t just a matter of dropping seal-chen stone down a hole. The array adept’s work mattered just as much as the digging.

For Mu Ran, setting up Double-Spike Formation took three to five days depending on his condition. Pairing him with a Ten Seals cultivator who drilled the planet was perfect.

Other array adepts worked far faster—one day was enough for them—and those were the ones “worthy” of technological support.

In a situation where tech weapons were limited, Mu Ran wasn’t valued enough to receive them.

He was only valued enough to be assigned a cultivator as labor.

And that laborer couldn’t be too efficient, or it would make Mu Ran look useless.

At first, Mu Ran thought Wang Jie was manageable.

Then he realized his mistake.

Wang Jie’s destructive power per strike wasn’t outrageous, but his frequency was.

Others threw a full-power strike and needed an hour to recover. Wang Jie needed half an hour—sometimes less. He made up everything with sheer pace.

Watching Wang Jie swing like he didn’t care about his own limits, Mu Ran’s stomach tightened.

And he couldn’t say anything.

After a full day of digging, Wang Jie looked down into the bottomless shaft with satisfaction. Then he turned and called out cheerfully, “Master—by this time tomorrow, I’ll definitely break through. Don’t worry.”

Mu Ran forced a smile. “Good. Very good.”

Encouraged, Wang Jie lifted his sword and struck again.

Mu Ran inhaled sharply and redoubled his effort. He couldn’t become a joke.

He thought this mission would be easy.

Instead, he’d been dragged into a contest.

On the second day, Wang Jie finished two hours early. He looked at Mu Ran expectantly, like a student waiting for praise.

Mu Ran wasn’t done yet. He looked from Wang Jie to the impossibly deep shaft. “Are you certain the destruction didn’t spread?”

“Absolutely,” Wang Jie said. “Not even a little.”

“Check again,” Mu Ran snapped.

Wang Jie hesitated. “Master, I—”

“You still don’t understand how serious this is,” Mu Ran cut in coldly. “Even the slightest mistake will cause irreversible consequences. Go check.”

Wang Jie stared at Mu Ran, then into the depths.

For some reason, he felt Mu Ran had something he couldn’t say.

“…Understood,” Wang Jie said.

He jumped down.

Mu Ran exhaled and returned to his work.

Wang Jie spent an entire day checking. The tunnel was simply too long.

When he finally climbed back out, Mu Ran had just finished.

Nearly three days.

“Enough,” Mu Ran said. “If there’s no problem, drop it down.”

Wang Jie looked at the seal-chen stone Mu Ran provided. It was slightly larger than the ones he’d been given, but not by much. He couldn’t tell what was special about it.

This had to go deep inside a planet?

Who was the array meant for?

He didn’t ask.

Mu Ran pointed away. “Next planet.”

Wang Jie looked in the direction and understood.

This planet and the next would form a linked array. He remembered the ant being erased—meaning the array’s killing line would be the space between two planets.

On the way, Wang Jie opened the star map.

His heart sank.

They were at the border of the Silver Radiance Empire.

Beyond the edge, the map showed blank space. That kind of emptiness only meant one thing: the boundary of a Star Chain.

The Silver Radiance Empire belonged to the Frost Splendor Star Chain of the Third Nebula.

Right next to it was the Ninth Star Chain.

Combine that with the secret arrival of Frost Splendor Sect’s people and the arrays being laid across the border…

There was no need to guess.

War was coming.

And judging by the scale, it would likely be Frost Splendor Sect’s war against the Ninth Star Chain.