bullyxtreme V.4.275
V.4.275
Merin enters the Bone Palace, his steps echoing faintly against the pale structure, yet he quickly realises that the Supreme Elders are not present within its vast halls.Instead, at the heart of the palace, a hidden mechanism reveals itself, a space left behind by the Late Saint of the Totem Palace, separated from the outside world.
A portal forms.
Without hesitation, Merin steps through.
The moment he enters, the world around him changes completely.
The oppressive aura of bones and death gives way to an endless stretch of grasslands that extends beyond the horizon, vibrant and alive.
The wind moves gently through tall grass, carrying earth and life. Countless beasts roam, each powerful, ancient, and spiritually vital.
Some graze peacefully.
Some hunt.
Some simply exist.
There is no conflict in their presence.
Only balance.
Merin’s gaze sharpens slightly as he perceives something deeper beneath the surface.
The Dao.
Left behind by the Late Saint.
It permeates the entire space, subtle yet vast, influencing everything within it.
This Dao is not violent, nor destructive.
It is spiritual in nature.
A Dao that connects life, beasts, and existence itself into a single flowing system.
A Dao of spirituality.
Everything here is part of it.
Nothing stands apart.
Merin remains still for a moment, observing, understanding, letting the structure of this Dao imprint itself within his perception.
Then he notices another detail.
Time.
It flows differently here.
Slower.
He instinctively connects to his Dragon Totem outside this space, using it as a reference point.
The difference becomes clear.
One year inside,
Ten years outside.
A tenfold gap.
Now he understands.
Why do the Supreme Elders remain here?
Not just for safety.
But for time itself.
Merin moves forward across the grasslands, his presence causing no disturbance, as if even the beasts instinctively recognise him and choose not to interfere.
In the distance, three figures come into view.
They sit calmly on the ground, as if they have been waiting.
Between them rests a simple wooden table.
Upon it,
A teapot filled with steaming tea.
Four glasses are placed neatly.
And a plate of simple biscuits and snacks.
Nothing extravagant.
Nothing excessive.
Just quiet hospitality.
Merin approaches.
The three old men look at him, their eyes deep and filled with the weight of countless years, yet still carrying a sharp clarity that reveals their strength has not fully faded.
One of them gestures lightly toward the empty space at the table.
They begin to introduce themselves.
The first to speak is Sirius.
He appears as an old man, yet his presence carries a wild sharpness that refuses to be hidden, his facial features subtly resembling those of a wolf, with slightly elongated canines and eyes that gleam with a predatory instinct.
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He wears a worn-out brown robe that looks aged by time and countless battles, yet beneath its tattered surface, faint strands of magical light flow continuously, revealing that it is far from ordinary.
Even in stillness, he feels a sense of danger.
Next is Elmirus.
His body is hunched, his frame thin and shadowed, as if the weight of years has pressed down upon him without mercy, while his skin carries a faint dark hue that makes him appear almost like a silhouette against the grasslands.
He wears a worn-out white magic robe, its surface faded and marked, yet dense layers of spiritual energy linger within it, giving off a quiet but oppressive aura.
His presence is not sharp like Sirius,
But heavy.
Like something that has endured too long.
Then,
Nazhar.
She stands in stark contrast to the other two.
Her form is that of a young woman, her figure elegant and composed, dressed in a clean black magic robe that fits her perfectly, outlining her silhouette without excess.
Her appearance is youthful, yet her eyes reveal an age that surpasses both Sirius and Elmirus, deep and unfathomable, as if countless eras have passed through them.
She is calm.
Still.
And far more dangerous than she appears.
Merin observes all three without hesitation, then speaks directly.
“What do you want from me?”
There is no courtesy.
No delay.
Because he already understands.
They wish to make him the Totem Lord.
And he is not even a member of the Totem Palace.
The reason can only be one.
They need something from him.
His gaze lingers slightly on them, sensing the faint traces of death qi surrounding their bodies, hidden but undeniable.
They are reaching their end.
The three exchange brief glances.
Then Nazhar speaks, her voice smooth and steady.
“Saint… you are direct.”
Merin smiles faintly, his tone calm but firm.
“I don’t want to waste time on meaningless conversation.”
“Tell me what you want.”
“If I can fulfil it, then proclaim me as the Totem Lord.”
Sirius leans forward slightly, his wolf-like eyes narrowing as he begins.
“The last Totem Lord… was the Totem Spirit Saint.”
“He was also the founder of the Totem Palace.”
Merin raises an eyebrow, his expression shifting slightly as a trace of dissatisfaction appears.
“So only a Saint can become the Totem Lord?”
“Then there was no need to call me here.”
A faint displeasure surfaces in his tone.
If he becomes a Saint, then he has no need to tie himself to the Totem Palace at all.
Elmirus finally speaks, his voice rough and dry, as something dragged across stone.
“A Saint can become the Totem Lord…”
He pauses briefly.
“…but there is another way.”
Merin’s gaze sharpens instantly.
“What is it?”
A hint of impatience enters his voice.
Nazhar rises gracefully, her black robe flowing lightly as she turns without answering directly.
“Come with us.”
Sirius and Elmirus stand as well, their movements slower but steady, and together the three begin walking toward the deeper centre of the space.
Behind them, the ground shifts silently, opening just enough to swallow the table, the teapot, and the cups, as if their brief meeting had never existed.
Merin follows without hesitation.
As they move across the vast grassland, his attention drifts outward, observing the life within this sealed world.
The beasts here are unlike those of ordinary lands.
Ancient.
Primitive.
Powerful.
He notices a pack of creatures resembling velociraptors, their bodies lean and swift, but with small bat-like wings attached to their backs, fluttering occasionally as they emit sharp cries that echo across the plains.
They chase a herd of massive wild buffalo, coordinating with eerie precision, their voices carrying far beyond what their size suggests.
Further ahead, a towering beast comes into view.
A Tyrant-like creature, its massive body wrapped in arcs of lightning that crawl across its scales like living armour, each movement accompanied by crackling thunder.
It roars as it clashes against another colossal predator.
An Allosaurus-like beast, its jaws spewing fire, while flames gather along its claws and tail, turning every strike into a blazing assault.
The two collide with overwhelming force, shaking the ground beneath them.
Merin watches silently as they pass.
Throughout the journey, more such creatures appear, each one resembling ancient dinosaur-like beasts, yet infused with elemental power and spiritual essence.
A thought forms in his mind.
If these creatures are refined…
If their bloodlines are reshaped…
They could become Dragon Beasts.
His Dao touches upon the idea briefly, then withdraws.
“Not now.”
“When my Law reaches Level Thirteen… and becomes Dao.”
“Then I will return to this.”
He continues walking.
After a moment, he speaks again, his tone calm but direct.
“I still haven’t heard what the three of you want.”
Sirius answers this time, his voice low and steady.
“There is a door.”
“It was left behind by the Saint.”
“Inside… are the treasures he collected.”
Nazhar continues without pause.
“Everything inside can be yours.”
She looks at him.
“But we want the treasures that can extend our lifespans.”
Merin listens quietly.
Then nods.
This is exactly what he expected.
Their bodies are already surrounded by death qi.
Their time is running out.
They do not seek power.
They seek time.
And now,
He feels more confident.
Because this is something he can control.
Even if he cannot open the door they speak of, he already possesses another method to fulfil their desire, one that may benefit him even more in the long run.
A faint clarity settles in his mind.
If they want lifespan,
Then he can give them a path.
And in doing so, he gains something in return.
Two gains.
One action.
Like striking two targets with a single arrow.
They seek to extend their lives, and the simplest way is not through external treasures, but through transformation itself.
If they cultivate the Dragon Transformation Technique he has created, their bodies and souls will evolve, granting them not only power, but also a longer existence.
At their current realm,
Soul Transformation Stage,
They already possess the capability to complete the Dragon Form.
Unlike him.
Merin’s gaze turns slightly inward.
He has only transformed his body.
His flesh, his bones, his blood,
All are gradually becoming that of a dragon.
But his soul…
Remains unchanged.
Incomplete.
To truly become a dragon, the transformation must extend beyond the body and into the soul, reshaping it into a Dragon Soul.
Only then can the Dragon Energy fully integrate, reaching the deepest layer of existence,
The True Spirit.
Because in the end, the True Spirit defines what one truly is.
If his True Spirit remains human,
Then, no matter how powerful his body becomes, he is still human.
Only when the True Spirit changes,
Can he truly become a dragon?
Yet Merin’s path is different.
He does not seek to become a pure dragon.
His goal is something more precise.
A balance.
A fusion.
A humanoid dragon.
Half dragon.
Half human.
A form that retains rationality, identity, and control, while possessing the strength and essence of a dragon.
And for that,
Faith becomes essential.
Because in the Dragon Transformation Technique, once the transformation reaches its peak, the human identity begins to fade.
It must be anchored.
Stabilized.
Preserved.
Faith serves as that anchor.
It binds the human aspect of the True Spirit, preventing it from being completely consumed by the dragon's nature.
This is why his path is different from all others.
Not just transformation,
But controlled transformation.
A system.
A Dao.
And now, standing here, walking toward an ancient secret left behind by a Saint,
Merin realizes.
These three…
May become the first pillars of that system.