bullyxtreme V.4.290. Guiding Biyun
V.4.290. Guiding Biyun
Biyun runs across the vast throne chamber, his footsteps echoing against the polished floor as he dashes forward without restraint, passing beneath towering pillars and rushing straight toward the throne as if nothing else in the world matters.He does not slow.
He climbs the stairs in a blur of motion, his hands brushing against the edges for balance before he leaps upward without hesitation.
He lands directly onto Merin’s lap.
Merin’s arm lifts instinctively, steadying him with ease, holding him in place as if he had always been there.
“You are still acting like a child,” Merin says, his tone calm yet carrying a faint trace of amusement, “when only a couple of years remain before you reach adulthood.”
When Merin left, Biyun was only four years old.
Now,
He is fourteen.
At the words, Biyun stiffens slightly, his excitement faltering as he lowers his head, misunderstanding the tone, thinking he has done something wrong.
He begins to climb down from Merin’s lap.
But Merin’s hand tightens gently.
Holding him in place.
Biyun pauses.
“Sorry, father,” he says softly.
Merin looks at him.
His expression does not change much, yet there is a subtle warmth beneath it.
“There is nothing to be sorry about,” he says.
“I am only joking.”
The tension fades instantly.
Biyun relaxes.
Merin continues, his gaze settling on him with quiet interest.
“I heard you wanted me to create a unique Dragon Transformation technique for you.”
Biyun nods immediately.
Fast.
Repeatedly.
Like a chicken pecking at the ground.
“Yes, I want it,” he says, unable to hide his excitement.
Then,
He hesitates.
The excitement softens.
His voice lowers.
More careful.
“Will you… father?”
Merin answers without pause.
“Why not?”
At the same time, his spirit expands.
It enters Biyun’s body.
Gently.
Thoroughly.
He observes.
Measures.
Understands.
Water.
Earth.
Wood.
Three elemental affinities.
Water is the strongest.
Flowing.
Adaptive.
Deep.
Earth follows.
Stable.
Heavy.
Enduring.
Wood is the weakest.
Yet still present.
Growing.
Subtle.
Within Merin’s spirit space, the three elements manifest, colliding and intertwining in countless configurations, shifting and merging as new possibilities take shape.
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Different elemental combinations form.
New attributes emerge.
Each one holds potential.
Each one offers a path.
Merin observes them carefully.
Analyzes.
Measures.
Yet he does not choose.
He pauses.
Then understands.
This choice,
Cannot be his.
If he decides now, Biyun will follow a path not truly his own.
He will lose the ability to choose.
To explore.
To define his Dao.
And without that,
Sainthood will forever remain out of reach.
So Merin changes his approach.
Instead of forcing a new element into existence,
He will guide.
He will build a foundation.
A method that deepens understanding.
That allows Biyun to discover his own path.
His own element.
Within his mind, the three elements take form.
They become human figures.
Each one holds a spear.
Water.
Earth.
Wood.
All standing in silent readiness.
Biyun likes the spear.
So Merin decides.
He will create three spear techniques.
Each one is tied to an element.
Each one is designed not for immediate power,
But for comprehension.
For growth.
For the shaping of a path that will one day belong solely to Biyun, Merin begins to construct not a single technique, but a foundation upon which countless possibilities may grow.
The first spear technique takes form within his mind.
Water.
He does not begin with an ocean.
He begins with a drop.
A single drop of water, suspended in stillness, carrying within it the quiet truth of accumulation and inevitability.
One drop becomes two.
Two become many.
Until countless drops gather,
And an ocean is born.
The technique begins with the simplest motion.
A thrust.
Direct.
Unadorned.
Yet within that thrust lies endless variation.
As it is repeated, refined, and perfected, Biyun’s spirit will begin to merge with the spear itself, no longer wielding it as a tool, but becoming one with its motion.
With each thrust, he will perceive it,
Not as an attack.
But as a falling raindrop.
Soft.
Precise.
Unstoppable.
From that understanding, he will comprehend the Intent of Rain.
And from that intent,
A field will form.
An ocean born from countless unseen drops.
Merin names it,
The Rain Spear Technique.
The second technique rises.
Earth.
This time, there is no movement.
Only stillness.
Absolute.
Unshaken.
The foundation of the technique is not in striking, but in enduring.
To stand without moving.
To hold ground against all forces.
To use the smallest motion,
To shift something as vast as a mountain.
It is a parry.
A defense.
A redirection.
Not meant to attack, but to deny all attacks.
Within this stillness, Biyun will comprehend the Intent of Rock.
Weight.
Stability.
Immovable will.
And from that,
The field of Earth will emerge.
Merin names it,
The Rock Spear Technique.
The third technique unfolds.
Wood.
But not gentle growth.
Not quiet expansion.
Instead,
He takes the moment of snapping.
The recoil of a branch under pressure.
The instant when tension reverses.
Where force is returned.
This is a counterattack.
A technique that does not initiate, but responds.
It absorbs.
Redirects.
Strikes back.
Taking the opponent’s power and turning it against them.
Within this, Biyun will comprehend the Intent of Vitality.
Endless.
Resilient.
Rebounding.
And from that,
The field of Wood will form.
Merin names it,
The Vital Spear Technique.
These three techniques are not ordinary.
Each one stands at the third stage.
Each one, when mastered, allows the formation of a field.
And with that,
The path to the Soul Awakening Stage opens.
Merin raises his hand.
Spiritual energy gathers within his palm, condensing into tangible form as golden light weaves itself into structure.
Three books appear.
Their pages shimmer like gold, inscribed instantly as words carve themselves into existence.
He hands them to Biyun.
Biyun receives them carefully, his eyes filled with curiosity as he flips through the pages.
“Father,” he asks, looking up, “what is this?”
“Three spear techniques for you,” Merin replies.
Biyun pauses.
He stops turning the pages.
Looks at Merin again.
“But… Father,” he says, confusion rising in his voice, “I asked for a Dragon Transformation technique.”
Merin’s expression remains calm.
“Your three strongest affinities are Water, Earth, and Wood,” he explains evenly.
“If I were to create a Dragon Transformation technique for you, I would combine these three elements to form a unique dragon form.”
Biyun’s eyes brighten slightly.
“Then do it, Father,” he says without hesitation.
Merin looks at him.
Steady.
“Son,” he asks, “do you want to become a Saint?”
Biyun answers immediately.
“I do.”
Then he hesitates, his brows furrowing as confusion returns.
“But what does that have to do with the Dragon Transformation technique?”
Merin speaks plainly.
“If I decide your Dao for you now, then your path will no longer be yours,” he says.
“And when the time comes, advancing your Dao will become far more difficult.”
“Reaching Sainthood will become nearly impossible.”
Biyun’s face tightens with confusion.
He looks down at the books.
Then back at Merin.
“But…” he says slowly, trying to understand, “you created Mother’s and Second Mother’s Dragon Transformation techniques.”
Merin looks at him calmly, his voice steady and patient, carrying neither pride nor dismissal, but simple clarity.
“I created theirs,” he says, “because they were already one step away from forming their Dao, and what I did only helped them reach it faster.”
He pauses briefly, then continues, choosing an example Biyun can grasp.
“Take your mother,” he says.
“If she had followed my original design completely, the field she would have formed should have been the Field of Wither.”
“But she did not.”
Merin’s gaze deepens slightly.
“With her own understanding and exploration of Wither, she altered it.”
“She walked beyond what I gave her.”
“And in the end, she formed a variant, ”
“The Field of White Ash.”
Biyun listens carefully, his confusion slowly giving way to understanding as the meaning settles within him.
He nods.
Slowly at first.
Then with more certainty.
“I understand,” he says.
“I need to reach the Sublimation Stage first… then you will create the Dragon Transformation technique for me.”
Merin inclines his head slightly.
“And,” he adds, “you must also reach minor mastery in these three spear techniques.”
“This will allow me to understand which aspect of the three elements you are most suited for.”
Biyun tilts his head slightly, thinking, then asks with genuine curiosity,
“Why only minor mastery?”
“Why not complete mastery?”
Merin answers without hesitation.
“If you can completely master them,” he says, his tone calm yet absolute, “then you will already be capable of comprehending your own Dragon form.”
“And at that point, ”
“My help will no longer be necessary.”
For a moment, Biyun is silent.
Then,
His eyes light up.
Bright.
Filled with excitement.
Without another word, he quickly climbs down from Merin’s lap, landing lightly on the ground.
“Father, I’m going!” he says eagerly.
Before Merin can respond, Biyun is already running, his figure darting across the vast throne chamber once again, his footsteps echoing as he rushes toward the stairs.
In the next moment,
He disappears down them, heading off to begin his cultivation.
Silence returns.
Merin’s gaze shifts.
It settles on Ziqi.
“You have advanced,” Merin says, his voice carrying quiet acknowledgement.
“Congratulations on reaching the Soul Awakening Stage.”
Ziqi immediately kneels.
Without hesitation.
Without pride.
“Lord,” he says, lowering his head deeply, his voice firm yet respectful, “I implore you, ”
“Bestow upon me a Dragon Transformation technique.”