Merin looks up toward the man standing on the cliff.
His expression slowly tightens.
The moment his senses touch the stranger's aura, a faint frown appears between his brows.
The aura feels strange.
Unstable.
Or perhaps too stable.
Merin studies it carefully.
He cannot determine whether the man is a warrior or a spiritual refiner.
The aura contains both qualities.
His mind immediately becomes alert.
His aura makes me feel he is both.
The frown deepens.
If the man is truly both an Origin Seal Realm warrior and a Sublimation Realm spiritual refiner…
Then the situation becomes dangerous.
Merin does not fear defeat.
He is confident in surviving.
But defeating such an opponent would be another matter entirely.
Merin's violet eyes remain steady as he speaks.
"Who are you?"
His voice carries clearly across the frozen battlefield.
The man tilts his head slightly.
Then he points toward himself.
"Me?"
He chuckles.
The sound is low and relaxed.
"That is not your concern, Marquis."
Merin watches him silently.
Above the battlefield, the phantom dragon slowly dissolves.
The massive figure contracts and returns to Merin's body.
The moment it does, Merin feels a surge of energy flowing through him.
The power of faith from the army and the dragon image is converting rapidly into pure energy.
His reserves recover at an astonishing speed.
The man notices the change.
His eyes flash with interest.
Merin remains floating in the air, facing the cliff.
"Then why did you come?"
The man folds his arms loosely across his chest.
"I came to inform you of something."
His tone remains casual.
"You have built a city inside our territory."
"So do not extend your hand beyond that."
Merin's eyes narrow slightly.
"You mean I cannot take the people and the territory of the three tribes?"
The man smiles.
A slow, approving smile.
"I like talking to smart people."
Merin does not move.
The air between them remains heavy.
The man continues.
"So what are you waiting for?"
"You can take your people and leave."
Merin studies him quietly.
The man's eyes are black.
But within them, faint streaks of golden light flicker.
Merin meets those eyes without hesitation.
"What if I say no to your offer?"
The man becomes silent.
The air suddenly grows heavier.
A terrifying pressure spreads outward.
It descends across the battlefield like a mountain.
Below them, soldiers collapse to their knees.
Warriors with stronger cultivation manage to remain standing, but their bodies tremble.
Even the leaders of the surrendered tribes struggle to breathe.
But Merin remains unmoved.
The pressure reaches him.
Then splits.
The invisible force is cut apart by the invisible edge of sword law.
The man's eyes narrow slightly.
From his perspective, the figure before him changes.
Merin no longer appears as a human.
Instead, he appears as a sword.
A sword still resting inside its sheath.
The entire world presses against it, trying to keep it contained.
Yet the sword resists.
It pushes against the pressure.
And the man can sense something else.
At any moment, that sword may break free from the sheath.
The man's expression slowly turns serious.
Understanding flashes through his mind.
So this is why the leader views him differently from other geniuses.
He chuckles softly.
"The leader was right about you."
Merin's eyes narrow again.
New information.
The man has a leader.
And someone capable of commanding such a man…
Merin's mind immediately reaches a conclusion.
Only a Soul Awakening Realm cultivator could hold such authority.
At that moment, he understands something else.
Now he knows why the Three Lotus Sects don't touch the Magoon Mountains despite the rich resources hidden here.
There exists a force inside these mountains capable of confronting them.
The man watches him calmly.
"I can allow you to take the people."
"But not the territory."
Then his lips curl into a cruel grin.
"You only need to do one thing."
"Take three moves from me."
"And remain alive."
Merin does not hesitate.
He answers calmly.
"Then let us begin."
The man tilts his head slightly.
"Are you sure?"
"The leader does not want me to kill you."
A savage smile spreads across his scarred face.
"But I really want to."
Merin raises one hand.
His fingers curl slightly.
The gesture is simple.
Come.
His voice follows calmly.
"I do not think you can even make me take a step back."
The man's eyes flare with anger.
His aura erupts like a volcano.
Power bursts outward in violent waves.
He says nothing further.
Energy pours out from his body.
The surrounding spiritual energy responds immediately.
The cold air trembles.
Frost spreads across the surface of the lake.
Even the clouds above seem to freeze.
The man slowly lifts one hand.
His voice drops into a whisper.
"Law…"
"Frost Flare."
The moment the words leave his lips, the surrounding spiritual energy trembles.
Merin immediately draws his sword.
The blade leaves the sheath with a clear metallic sound.
Sword energy gathers around it, condensing into a sharp, invisible pressure.
In the man's palm, something begins to form.
At first, it is only a faint shimmer.
Then a sphere of white ice appears.
Inside the ice burns a small orange core.
The two forces exist together.
Ice and fire.
Neither melts nor destroys the other.
Instead, they amplify each other.
The moment the sphere stabilises, the weather begins to change.
A biting wind spreads across the battlefield.
The temperature drops sharply.
Frost forms along the frozen lake.
Below them, soldiers begin to shiver violently.
The cold burns against their skin like invisible fire.
Those with weaker cultivation fall to their knees, teeth chattering uncontrollably.
Even strong warriors feel their blood slowing.
Among the gathered tribes, the six tribes that surrendered to Merin move closer together.
Their leaders stand side by side.
Their eyes are fixed on the sky.
Hope burns in their gaze.
For them, Merin must win.
Even if the opponent before him belongs to the mountains.
Even if he fights their own kind.
The fire within the sphere begins to pulse.
Each pulse causes the ice around it to grow colder.
The orange core brightens.
Its temperature rises.
Yet the ice does not melt.
It does not crack.
Instead, it grows denser.
Sharper.
More absolute.
The man flicks his finger forward.
The sphere vanishes.
Then it appears again.
Directly before Merin.
It moves with such speed that it feels like teleportation.
Merin's eyes sharpen.
His Virtual Field opens instantly.
But unlike before, he does not spread it across the battlefield.
The field expands only a few meters around his body.
The invisible domain captures the incoming sphere.
The ice halts for a fraction of a moment.
In that moment, Merin moves.
His sword arcs diagonally upward.
From low to high.
Sword energy erupts along the blade.
The sphere explodes the instant the sword touches it.
A violent burst of power spreads outward.
Yet the attack does not vanish.
Instead, the shattered fragments expand.
Ice forms around Merin in an instant.
An entire sphere of frost seals around his body.
Inside that frozen prison, the true power of the attack activates.
The Laws of Ice and Fire descend together.
The pressure strikes his body like a falling mountain.
But the target is not his flesh.
It is deeper.
The attack reaches into his body.
Into every cell.
Each cell becomes the battlefield.
The laws attempt to pulverise them into particles.
The destruction happens everywhere at once.
Merin immediately understands the difference in power.
If the laws could be measured in levels, the gap is obvious.
His Virtual Law stands at Level Two.
The Ice and Fire Laws within this spell are Level Five.
His Sword Law is stronger.
Level Four.
But because it is an acquired law, it functions as if one level lower.
Level Three.
The gap remains enormous.
Merin's body begins to collapse.
Cells shatter into dust.
Muscle fibres disintegrate.
Blood evaporates into frost.
But Merin does not panic.
Sword Law erupts within his body.
The invisible edge of the law spreads through his cells, resisting the destructive force.
At the same time, his Virtual Law begins working.
Analysing.
Studying.
Learning.
The structure of the Ice Law.
The structure of the Fire Law.
The strange balance between them.
Every fragment of information is absorbed.
His cells regenerate.
Then they die again.
For a fraction of a second, the new cells survive.
Then the destructive law crushes them.
Creation.
Destruction.
Creation.
Destruction.
The cycle repeats endlessly.
Merin does not try to break the spell.
He does not try to escape.
There are still two attacks left.
If he destroys this spell now, he will learn nothing.
But if he studies it long enough…
He will gain understanding.
Time passes.
Seconds stretch into something longer.
The cycle of destruction slows.
At first, his cells survive for only a fraction of a second.
Then half a second.
Then longer.
His Virtual Law grows stronger with every moment.
The patterns of Ice and Fire become clearer.
He applies the principles to his own body.
Cells regenerate with new structures.
They resist the destruction slightly longer each time.
The pressure remains enormous.
But the gap slowly closes.
Nearly a minute passes.
The destructive power begins to weaken.
The man's magic energy slowly drains.
Merin senses the change immediately.
Sword energy explodes outward.
The blade shines with brilliant light.
With a single motion, he releases the accumulated power.
The frozen prison shatters.
The remaining magic energy collapses.
The air clears.
Merin stands in the sky once more.
His robe is new.
Not a single wound remains on his body.
His aura remains calm.
As if nothing had happened.
He glances down briefly.
Below him, several soldiers who failed to escape in time now stand frozen.
Ice statues.
Their expressions were still captured in the moment of fear.
Merin's gaze lifts again.
He looks toward the man on the cliff.
The man stares back at him.
A deep frown now rests on his face.