Mirror Dream Tree

V.4.276



V.4.276

Merin studies them for a brief moment, then speaks calmly.“If you want to increase your lifespan… I can help you.”

“We don’t need to open the door.”

The three stop immediately.

They turn toward him.

Sirius frowns, his wolf-like eyes narrowing slightly.

“How?”

Without answering directly, Merin extends his will, sending the outline of the Dragon Transformation Technique into their minds.

The knowledge flows in silently.

Structured.

Precise.

The three close their eyes as they absorb it.

Merin speaks while they comprehend.

“Human lifespan is limited because of our life-level.”

“Only after becoming a Saint does the life-level truly rise.”

“My technique allows that change to begin… before reaching Saint.”

Moments pass.

They open their eyes.

A faint light flickers within them.

Hope.

Then,

It fades.

A sigh escapes Sirius.

“We still have to open the door.”

“Our lifespan… is not enough to cultivate this.”

Merin’s brows furrow slightly.

That answer does not align with what he perceives.

Their bodies still hold at least a decade of life.

More than enough.

Even partial transformation into a dragon body would extend their lifespan by centuries.

Ten years is sufficient.

Unless,

His consciousness probes deeper.

Silently.

Carefully.

Then he sees it.

A sealing technique.

Embedded deep within their bodies.

Maintained by their own magic power.

It is the only thing holding their lives together.

If they redirect that power toward cultivation,

The seal will collapse.

And within hours,

They will die.

Merin exhales quietly.

Now he understands.

“Let’s go.”

They continue walking.

The grasslands begin to thin.

The air grows heavier.

Then,

They arrive.

A lake appears before them.

Its water is milky white, smooth and still like polished jade, yet beneath its surface lies an overwhelming concentration of spiritual energy.

Dense.

Pressurized.

Almost suffocating.

No life exists within it.

None around it.

Because from its depths,

A terrifying pressure radiates outward, silently warning all living things to stay away.

Merin stops at the edge.

He does not step forward.

He observes.

Elmirus and Nazhar move without hesitation, walking in opposite directions along the lake’s perimeter, while Sirius remains still for a moment before taking his position as well.

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They spread out.

From above,

Their positions form a perfect triangle.

The air changes.

The atmosphere tightens.

Then,

They begin to chant.

Merin watches in silence as their voices rise and fall in a steady rhythm, ancient syllables carrying a resonance that blends seamlessly with the surrounding space, drawing in the spiritual energy like a tide responding to the pull of the moon.

The air begins to thicken.

The grasslands fall still.

All sound fades except for the echo of their chant.

The spiritual energy gathers around them, moving in visible currents, spiralling slowly at first, then faster as the intensity builds.

The lake responds.

Its milky white surface trembles.

Ripples spread outward.

Then,

At its centre, bubbles begin to rise.

One after another.

Growing larger.

More violent.

As if something ancient is awakening from beneath.

Merin’s gaze sharpens.

From the depths, something massive begins to emerge.

A door.

Ancient.

Enormous.

Covered in patterns that seem alive, shifting faintly as if carved with laws rather than symbols.

It rises slowly, inch by inch, pushing through the surface of the lake, water cascading down its surface as it ascends.

Then it stops.

Floating above the lake.

A golden light envelops it instantly, radiant and pure, carrying an unmistakable pressure.

Saint-level.

Elmirus and Nazhar move quickly now, stepping back from the edge of the lake and returning to stand behind Merin in just a few steps.

At the same time, from the base of the door, a bridge of light extends outward, forming itself piece by piece until it reaches the shore and stops just before them.

Sirius turns his head slightly.

“This is the door.”

“You must open it.”

“Inside… is the token left behind by the Saint.”

“It will allow you to control this space… and the Bone Palace outside.”

“It will also symbolise your identity as the Lord of the Totem Palace.”

Merin does not respond immediately.

His eyes remain fixed on the door.

From it, waves of power spread continuously, stirring the lake further as faint, translucent figures begin to rise.

Spirits.

One.

Then many.

They drift above the lake, gathering in increasing numbers, their presence thickening the surrounding Yin energy until the atmosphere itself feels colder and heavier.

Nazhar speaks softly from behind him.

“You only need to cultivate the first chapter of the Lord’s technique.”

Merin nods once.

No more questions.

He steps forward.

His foot touches the bridge.

It holds.

He begins walking.

Each step is calm.

Unhurried.

A faint smile forms on his lips.

“No one has cultivated it before…”

“But the first chapter… should not be difficult.”

Confidence fills his mind.

He reaches the end of the bridge.

Stops before the door.

It towers over him.

Silent.

Watching.

Merin lifts his gaze, studying its surface, sensing the depth hidden within it.

Then, with a casual tone, he extends his spirit slightly and speaks.

“Hello.”

If the Totem Lord had not erased its spirit,

Then this door…

Should answer.

And it does.

A voice echoes directly within Merin’s mind, calm yet carrying a faint trace of amusement.

“So… you are not a fool.”

Merin’s eyebrow lifts slightly at those words, and in that instant, he understands everything.

Why did the three Supreme Elders remain silent?

Why did they offer no guidance?

Why had the door itself shown no reaction?

They were waiting.

Waiting to see if he would embarrass himself.

Merin lets out a soft chuckle.

“They never told you who I am.”

The voice responds immediately, sharper now.

“You can fool them… but you cannot fool me.”

“I do not sense your Dao around you.”

“Even if you had reincarnated… I would still perceive it.”

Merin’s smile deepens slightly, not offended, but amused.

“There are many ways to conceal one’s Dao.”

“The Totem Spirit Saint was likely only at the early stage of a Saint.”

“He either did not know… or did not live long enough to experience the deeper mysteries beyond it.”

There is a pause.

Then,

The tone of the voice changes.

Surprise.

Curiosity.

“My Lord… was right.”

“There are higher realms beyond Saint…”

A hint of urgency enters its voice.

“Can you tell me… what lies beyond?”

Merin does not answer immediately.

Instead, he counters.

“If I tell you… What do I get?”

The spirit hesitates.

“I cannot give you anything… until you cultivate the first chapter of my Master’s technique.”

Merin shrugs lightly.

“Then I cannot tell you.”

The response that follows carries an almost childish tone.

“You must not know… You are lying to me.”

Merin smiles calmly, completely unbothered.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“You will never know… whether I am lying or not.”

He pauses briefly.

Then speaks again.

“Now… give me the inheritance.”

The door’s spirit hums softly, as if thinking.

Then,

It yields.

A stream of information surges forward, flowing directly into Merin’s mind.

The inheritance begins.

Far away from the quiet grasslands and ancient doors, above the restless ocean where war stretches across the horizon, a different kind of power erupts.

Nox hovers in the sky, his expression twisted with irritation and arrogance, as dark energy coils around his hands and distorts the very space around him.

With a casual flick of his wrist, small black holes form and shoot outward, tearing through the air as they descend toward the ships below.

The sea churns violently.

Explosions ripple across the surface as vessels are crushed, swallowed, or twisted apart under the collapsing force of space itself.

He is a Soul Awakening cultivator.

And yet,

He targets those far below his realm.

Bullying.

Destroying.

Indifferent.

His eyes burn with resentment.

After returning to the Star Singer Tower, he had been punished.

Not for weakness,

But for excess.

He devoured one of his own.

A fellow member.

And for that, the Elder Council placed a seal within his mind, preventing him from feeding again.

To him,

It was an injustice.

“A waste… should be used.”

That is how he sees the world.

And now, restrained and humiliated, he vents his anger not on worthy opponents, but on the weak.

He refuses to join the true battlefield above, where Soul Awakening cultivators clash.

Instead, he moves constantly, never staying in one place long enough to be targeted, striking only where there is no resistance.

A tantrum.

A childish rebellion.

Because no one dares to punish him further.

He is the Tower Lord’s son.

Even if unloved,

He is still protected.

Nox laughs faintly as another ship collapses into nothingness.

Then,

His expression shifts.

He senses something.

A presence.

A breath.

Soul Awakening Stage.

Instinctively, he prepares to move away.

Avoid.

Evade.

But then,

He pauses.

That aura…

Feels familiar.

A figure appears before him.

Golden light spreads quietly in the air.

Shi Yang.

In that instant, memory floods back.

The humiliation.

The helplessness.

The moment he nearly died,

Before being saved by his father.

And at the centre of it,

Merin.

Nox’s eyes darken.

A twisted smile forms.

“This is perfect…”

“Repayment.”

He looks at Shi Yang and speaks with disdain.

“Ant…”

“You’ve advanced to the Soul Awakening Stage.”

Shi Yang meets his gaze, his eyes cold and filled with restrained anger.

He remembers.

That day.

If Merin had not arrived,

Both he and Chu Feng would have died.

And now,

This same person stands before him.

Killing the weak.

Without dignity.

Without restraint.

Shi Yang’s voice is steady, yet carries sharp intent.

“I will kill you.”

“A disgrace to all Soul Awakening cultivators.”

The word hits.

Disgrace.

For a moment,

Nox’s expression freezes.

Because that is what his father calls him.

A disgrace.

To the family.

Something snaps.

His emotions surge uncontrollably.

His face twists as fury rises.

“This time…”

“Let’s see who rescues you.”

His hand lifts.

A black hole forms instantly, larger and more violent than before, space collapsing inward as it spins with terrifying force.

Across from him,

Shi Yang raises his hand.

Light blooms.

Pure.

Radiant.

Expanding outward.

The sky trembles between darkness and brilliance.

The battle begins.


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