The flames burned quietly.
The tongues of fire danced silently, their movements graceful, emanating a benevolent Buddha's intent.
It was the Cremation Prajna Spirit Liberation Sutra!
Ning Zhuo stood in front of the fireball, the flames reflected in his eyes, revealing a nostalgic expression.
In the flames, the original materials and components of the Iron Han Armor quickly melted, occasionally releasing spiritual nature.
The spiritual nature, in tiny specks, floated in the air, then, under the guidance of Ning Zhuo's divine sense, mostly fell onto a mechanical puppet.
This mechanical puppet resembled an ascetic Bhikkhuni, its joints wrapped in linen robes, with bronze hands peeking out of the sleeves, and a red cinnabar mark on its forehead that glowed with Buddha light.
Its face conveyed a subtle smile, its half-lidded eyes revealing hidden compassion.
Its knees exposed bronze pivots, its feet were encased in straw sandals woven with magic formations, hard to distinguish.
