Focusing on the circulation technique always sped up the passage of time, at least from the cultivator's perspective.
Liam subconsciously kept track of the alternation between day and night, but didn't really care. As long as nothing buzzed in his mind, he wouldn't move, and that was exactly what happened until every trace of the slime or the dark-green fumes disappeared.
At that point, Liam stood up, stretching the stiffness out of his body, experiencing a sense of strength beyond his wildest imagination. Of course, he knew where it came from. He had kept track of it throughout his training.
Liam's mind went to his reddish canvas, where he saw a vast array of thick, healthy roots that would put real trees to shame. His number of fully developed minor roots had risen to fifty-one, crossing his halfway mark in the rooting stage.
