Mingyin gripped his chest as the crystalline shard drilled deeper into his flesh.
He only sighed… then sneered.
"What is happening…?"
The crystal burrowed further, as if alive.
It's trying to kill me.
Across from him, Mr. Spirit—her white robe trembling—looked at him with a heated gaze before quickly turning away, clutching her chest.
Mingyin understood.
"The Dragon Race… wasn't that your home?"
Her body stiffened. Slowly, she nodded.
She had been born in that realm… the master of Awaken Mountain, the one meant to guide the next generation.
Mingyin's eyes darkened.
If she was human once… then there are others like her here.
I can't fight them all—not like this.
I need her help.
A faint sigh escaped him.
"They died for nothing," he said. "Whatever killed them… it used Blood Torrent. Do you know what kind?"
She glanced at him, hesitant.
Mingyin shook his head, then added calmly,
"I remember some of it."
Her expression twisted slightly.
"Oh? Then explain."
Mingyin smiled—but inside, he was already scheming.
"The Blood Torrent we saw… belongs to Renewal. Founder of the Blood Path. Creator of the Blood Soul Core."
His fingers brushed his chin.
"Perhaps the strongest soul core ever created… even among legends."
He looked up.
"It seems… he has revived. And now he's reclaiming what's his."
Mr. Spirit's voice trembled.
"Renewal… has returned?"
Mingyin nodded.
"Before I arrived here, I saw it written in blood—"
"Mortal Ruler… I am back."
Silence fell.
"This mountain… he needs it."
She exhaled bitterly.
"The mortal world… always drowning in chaos."
"There is nothing but human greed."
"We are no different from beasts."
Mingyin didn't respond.
He understood her feelings—but he didn't share them.
He had seen everything a human could do.
Quietly, he muttered to himself,
"Humans are strange…"
"We compare ourselves to everything… even our own kind."
"Our pride… it never ends."
He looked down at his trembling hand.
"There's nothing to gain from being the strongest."
"Only peace… forged by one's own will."
"…yet I am the weakest of all."
He lifted his head—
—and the world shook.
Mr. Spirit froze.
"Don't tell me… the Blood Whale Killer has broken the second chain—"
Mingyin frowned.
"What are you talking about—"
The torches went out.
Darkness swallowed everything.
A chill ran down his spine.
"Be careful!" she shouted. "It can use Dreaming Eternity—"
Before she could finish—
his vision went black.
…Rustle…
The sound of water echoed.
A flicker of flame danced in the distance.
Mingyin opened his eyes.
He was no longer in the jade chamber.
He stood in a vast sea of fire—yet he was swimming through it.
His chestnut hair fell loosely to his neck, messy yet natural. His long lashes framed calm, almost gentle eyes. He wore a simple, elegant tunic with long sleeves, bound by a leather belt at his waist.
Mingyin froze.
"…So this is the illusion."
Mr. Spirit had mentioned it.
A Soul Core transformation—Illusion.
It could drag a target into a dream-like state for ten seconds. In reality, that was more than enough time to be killed.
But inside the illusion… things weren't absolute.
Strength, rank, perception—all of it could shift.
Enemies could resist.
They could fight back.
And the illusion itself… would mirror their level.
Mingyin's gaze sharpened.
"So it adapts to me…"
His body suddenly tensed.
All around him—
figures began to emerge from the sea of flame.
Dozens… no, hundreds.
Their faces were blurred, indistinct, like smudged ink. Some wore white robes, others black, others deep violet.
Immortals.
At the front, an old man with a long, clean beard surged forward through the flames, his aura pressing down like a mountain.
Mingyin's eyes narrowed.
Peak Artist… Stage Five.
"What kind of illusion is this…? I'm only a mortal."
The old man didn't hesitate.
He threw a punch.
The flames parted as his fist tore through the air.
Mingyin moved.
A slight shift.
A clean dodge.
His hand flicked downward, redirecting the old man's wrist—then his elbow drove forward.
Crack.
Blood burst into the air.
The old man staggered back.
But Mingyin didn't relax.
Behind him—
sixty figures surged forward.
Men and women.
Young and old.
All radiating the presence of Sage Artists.
Mingyin's expression turned cold.
"…I can only dodge."
He glanced down at himself—
—and froze.
"…What?"
His aura…
Peak Artist—Stage One.
Confusion flickered through his eyes.
How…? I haven't even awakened.
There was no time to think.
The old man lunged again.
Mingyin stepped forward instead.
He slipped past the attack, twisted his body, and struck—
his fist slamming into a young man's face.
The impact echoed like thunder.
The young man's body spun backward, swallowed by the flames.
Two girls rushed in from the sides.
One leapt upward.
Mingyin's instincts screamed.
He tilted his body sideways—
her strike barely grazed him.
In the same motion, his leg snapped
One leapt upward.
Mingyin's instincts screamed.
He twisted his body sideways—barely avoiding the strike as it tore past his shoulder.
In the same motion, his leg snapped upward.
Bang.
His kick slammed into her stomach.
The force sent her flying back, flames rippling violently around her. Before she could recover, Mingyin surged forward, closing the distance in an instant.
His hand shot out—
grabbing her head.
Crack.
Seven ribs shattered as his knee drove into her torso.
Blood spilled from her lips, staining the sea of flame.
Yet—
she didn't stop.
Her eyes turned wild, almost mad, as she forced herself forward again.
Mingyin's gaze hardened.
Pointless.
"You're not my match."
His fingers tightened.
Crunch.
Her hand collapsed in his grip, bones snapping like brittle wood. Without hesitation, he twisted—tearing through flesh and bone—then drove his fist into her face.
Boom.
Her body was hurled upward, crashing onto the surface of the flaming sea.
She lay there—
broken.
Alive… but barely.
Behind her, the others hesitated.
One girl dragged the injured old man back, shouting something Mingyin couldn't hear.
Their voices felt distant… hollow.
Unreal.
Mingyin stared at them.
His expression didn't change—
but something inside him wavered.
If they're real…
Then I have no choice.
Better them than me.
His grip tightened slightly.
Stop pretending, a voice echoed in his mind.
You're just justifying yourself.
For a brief moment—
his eyes dimmed.
Then—
he moved.
He appeared behind two of them.
So fast… it was as if he had always been there.
His hand landed on the girl's shoulder.
She froze.
Her body trembled as she slowly turned—
too late.
Bang.
Her head burst apart like shattered glass, scattering into the flames.
Before the others could react—
Mingyin's other hand shot forward.
He grabbed the young man beside her.
No hesitation.
Crack.
His skull caved in.
His chest collapsed inward as Mingyin crushed him completely, blood pouring into the burning sea.
Mingyin pushed the lifeless body aside.
His face grew pale.
Not from fear—
but from something deeper.
Something quieter.
The same injured old man turned—
just in time to see Mingyin walking toward him.
Slow.
Calm.
Unstoppable.
He froze.
But his face…
still couldn't be seen.
Blurred.
Like all the others.
Suddenly—
a torrent of blue water surged from the side, cutting through the sea of flame.
It roared toward Mingyin.
Mingyin's eyes flicked sideways.
Then—
he moved.
He grabbed the frozen young man—
and turned his body into the attack.
BOOM.
The water crashed into him.
His face shattered instantly, his body going limp as it fell into the flames.