Void Cultivation-Chapter 193- Projection

When the middle-aged man clad in gray robes appeared, he did not even spare Grey a glance. His presence alone caused the surrounding air to stagnate, as if the world itself had instinctively lowered its head. He merely turned his neck slightly, directing his gaze toward the old man, and spoke in a detached, emotionless voice.

"I can only last for another fifteen breaths of time."

The projection spoke calmly, as though he were stating a trivial fact. From beginning to end, he did not look at Grey even once. Yet despite being nothing more than a projection, the pressure it radiated was overwhelming, more than enough to snuff out Grey’s life with nothing more than the snap of a finger.

When the projection’s gaze rested upon the old man, it was filled with the same cold aloofness, devoid of warmth or mercy. If someone like Grey could not even earn a glance, then what right did the old man before him have to expect acknowledgment?

The truth was simple.

The projection had not appeared for Grey. Nor had he appeared out of any concern for the old man’s life.

He had come for the forbidden techniques and arts hidden within the old man’s memories.

However, even with his strength, he could not seize them by force. Those forbidden techniques were imprinted deep within the old man’s soul, beyond the reach of brute force or even a soul search. The only way to obtain them was for the old man to willingly reveal them himself.

The moment Grey heard the projection speak, he sucked in a sharp breath. His eyes widened slightly as a powerful sense of danger surged through his entire body.

Then, the middle-aged man finally shifted his gaze.

The instant his eyes landed on Grey, it felt as though a mountain had crashed down upon him. Just the pressure contained within that gaze made Grey stagger backward violently. Thunderous booming sounds erupted within his head as blood trickled from the corner of his lips and down from his nose. His face turned deathly pale.

Without the slightest hesitation, Grey began to retreat.

But before he could even move five feet, the middle-aged man slowly raised a finger and pointed it directly at him.

At that moment, Grey felt the unmistakable shadow of death descend upon him.

Without reluctance, he spat out a mouthful of blood and sent a mental command to his shadow, forcibly pushing his speed to its absolute limit.

In the next instant, his shadow detached itself from his feet and surged upward, rising from the ground as though it had gained life of its own. It rapidly solidified, taking on a corporeal form.

Soon, a perfect carbon copy of Grey stood in its place.

The only differences lay in their hair, eyes, and clothing, all of which were pitch black on the shadow’s body. Even its expression was different, complex, conflicted, yet resolute.

A complicated look appeared on the shadow’s face as it began to execute its divine art.

Pitch-black flames erupted from within its body, roaring outward and engulfing it completely. The flames condensed, weaving together into a full suit of armor formed entirely of black fire, exuding an aura of destruction and divinity.

The moment the armor was completed, the shadow shot forward, sprinting to place as much distance as possible between Grey and the middle-aged man.

This sudden development caused a subtle change in the projection’s expression.

He had not expected Grey to react in such a way.

However, the finger he had already pointed did not pause even slightly.

A moment later, a brilliant light bloomed at his fingertip, and an immense pressure descended upon the surroundings. Grey, who was still retreating at full speed, suddenly felt his body grow unbearably heavy.

His speed plummeted.

Caught off guard, Grey stumbled and nearly fell, barely managing to stabilize himself in time. His breathing became ragged as cold sweat soaked his back.

Throughout all of this, the middle-aged man continued to watch him with a disinterested gaze. Then, he finally spoke.

"That technique of yours..." he said calmly, "...it’s very impressive. But it won’t stop me from killing you."

As soon as the words fell, the brilliant light shot forward, charging straight toward Grey.

The light seemed to completely ignore the shadow that was charging toward the projection. Yet as it passed by the shadow’s side, the shadow’s face instantly paled. The black flames covering its body flickered violently, as though they were on the verge of being extinguished at any moment.

In the blink of an eye, the light appeared directly before Grey.

By now, seven breaths of time had already passed.

Only eight breaths remained.

During those few breaths, the old man’s condition had worsened dramatically. His face had turned ashen, and his body visibly withered, as though all vitality was being drained from him. The dark totem carved into his hand glowed brighter and brighter, greedily devouring his life force to sustain the projection.

It was clear that once the fifteenth breath passed, the old man would be completely drained dry.

When the light hovered before Grey, he finally saw what it truly was.

It was a small piece of wood, glowing with an ethereal radiance. Its edges appeared to be burning, yet the wood itself showed no signs of being consumed by the flames.

Then, the middle-aged man spoke a single word.

"Shine."

Instantly, the piece of wood ignited completely, erupting with a dazzling brilliance that threatened to blind anyone who witnessed it. As the word echoed, the old man let out a muffled groan. His body withered even faster, yet his right hand, the one bearing the totem, remained unnaturally intact.

In fact, it pulsed with dense vitality and terrifying life force.

The totem devoured that vitality without restraint, converting it directly into energy to sustain the projection. Even so, it was obvious that the projection’s time was nearing its end.

The next instant, the piece of burning wood exploded.

It shattered into countless fragments, scattering in all directions like a storm of blazing stars. The explosion happened directly in front of Grey, leaving him no room to dodge or retreat. The speed of the fragments was far beyond what his body could evade.

Left with no other choice, Grey activated every defensive method he possessed.

A sharp purple glint flashed through his eyes as a phantom purple moon appeared within their depths.

Countless purple sparks erupted around his body, appearing so suddenly that even the projection’s expression shifted slightly. The sparks wove together seamlessly, forming an illusory yet tangible suit of purple armor around Grey’s body.

The moment the armor completed itself, Grey’s aura surged violently. His power within the Foundation Establishment Realm soared, climbing to a terrifying level. His long hair lifted and flowed behind him despite the absence of any wind.

Grey had manifested his battle armor!

At the same time, the shadow several meters away was forcibly dragged back and positioned directly in front of him, acting as a living shield. Grey quickly retrieved several defensive treasures from his storage ring, activating them one after another without hesitation.

Layer upon layer of defense formed around him.

Together, they stood firm, struggling, resisting, and enduring, the overwhelming might of the projection.