Merin sits in silence within his main body, the weight of the Senior's words pressing on his chest like a mountain.
The coordinates of a low-level world float in his mind, the Senior's command etched deep: descend through the Law instrument, open the portal, and allow the army to come forth. Yet there is no urgency—he has been granted one or two years of time.
Before meeting that being, Merin's path had been clear. Return, refine, and push his body into Stage Four. But now the truth is laid bare before him. To advance recklessly is to cripple his future forever. Only when his essence, energy, and spirit each reach the True Demigod realm will he dare to step forward again.
Merin lowers his gaze to his own body, the ancient tree form that anchors him. Its lifespan stretches vast before him—one thousand four hundred and fifty-six years.
He turns to the mirror within, his voice steady. "What is the lifespan of the soul?"
The mirror answers with calm certainty. "Your soul is merged with me. So your soul is immortal. I do not die, and so your soul will not die."
Merin falls silent, his thoughts shifting. Then physical body alone bears the weight of mortality. He must temper his essence to the True Demigod realm first.
He asks again, quieter this time. "Is the Senior's advice correct?"
"Yes," the mirror replies.
Merin exhales, resolution hardening in his chest.
He asks one last question. "How many merits have I earned this time?"
The mirror glimmers and answers. "Sixteen thousand five hundred."
Merin closes his eyes, recalling why the number is so high. He had earned this many merits because he sacrificed his physical body to transform his demiplane into a high-level microplane.
The stage-four clone he once carried—he did not keep it. The Senior had warned him that the base of that body was forged from divine energy belonging to Jean, the Senior's junior brother. If Jean chose, he could trace that divine energy and find Merin's clone anywhere in existence. Worse, the clone itself had lost its potential; a body destined only for stagnation.
So, following the Senior's guidance, Merin released his world in a hidden region of the void sea, within the Senior's territory. There, he sacrificed his body into the fabric of the plane, merging flesh and law into earth and sky. His demiplane shuddered, then rose to a high-level microplane.
Though the clone was gone, the gain was immense. If he can push this plane even further—advancing it to a low-level small plane—then he could harness its origin itself. With that, he could polish his essence, energy, and spirit, increasing his chances of breaking through to stage five.
When the sacrifice was complete, his consciousness withdrew, returning to his main body. For that act, he earned sixteen thousand five hundred merit.
The mirror's glow steadies. He has only that much now because he consumed every last merit before setting out on his previous journey. Sixteen thousand five hundred—that is both his balance and his beginning.
Now comes the decision of what to do with the merit. He wants to create three cultivation techniques, each targeting his essence, energy, and spirit. Since his physical body has a limited lifespan, the first focus must be on essence—a method to increase his physical longevity.
With this idea firm in his heart, he asks the mirror to enlighten him, and his merit starts to be consumed.
The cultivation methods stored in his mind are either incomplete or unrelated to his tree body. None are useful for his current path. But in the enlightenment stage, a thought surfaces: what is essence? The energy of the physical body itself is the essence. And the body is composed of countless cells.
If the cells improve, the physical body will also improve. For that, his control must reach the level where he can change any of his cells at will.
Immersed in enlightenment, he begins sensing his cells. Within each one, he perceives a faint, blurry, almost non-existent consciousness. If he can gain control over that consciousness, he will gain control over the cell itself.
But there are trillions of cells. Controlling them directly is not only a hassle—it borders on the impossible. For that reason, the consciousness within each cell must grow stronger on its own.
Before beginning, he crushes the body forming within his trunk and absorbs it back as nourishment. Then he channels all his energy into the nascent consciousness slumbering inside his cells.
The enlightenment reaches its end as it shatters every piece of knowledge on essence and the physical body stored in his mind.
And in exchange, it consumes nine thousand six hundred and sixty-two merit, spent entirely to create a technique that can awaken the faint consciousness within his cells.
Awakening trillions of them will take decades, and he cannot remain idle for that long. But this does not trouble him, for even in his absence the mirror can guide his body, allowing the practice to continue, slowly stirring the dormant awareness in each cell.
Some merit still remains. He wonders where it should be used.
His thoughts turn toward the mission. The greatest danger lies not in the world itself, but in the moment he enters it. When he is born into a new body, his memory will be sealed. Without memory, the chance of failure—and death—is high.
Now, with a connection to a stage six being, he cannot afford to fail. He must complete the mission at all costs.
And he understands why the seal is necessary. It is not truly his memories being sealed, but his spirit. His spirit is too powerful, and memory is only its shadow. If his unrestrained spirit enters a fragile mortal body, it would overwhelm and destroy it.
Last time, he was fortunate to be born into a divine body. He cannot rely on such luck again.
To keep his memory intact, he must achieve absolute control over his spirit before entering the new world.
Resolute, he instructs the mirror to open the path to enlightenment once more.
When one thousand five hundred and forty-six merit remain, he exits the enlightenment stage. A new technique forms in his mind—a method to gain absolute control over his spirit. But for this to work, his consciousness must first be whole.
At present, it is divided. One in the dragon world. One in the origin world. One in the inner dream world.
He had left them there with purpose. The fragments in the dragon world and the origin world held his ties to family and the promise of return. The consciousness clone remained behind to guard them.
He even considers visiting, to see with his own eyes if they remain safe within the seal, if they are still alive. But now, there is no time. The mirror preserves the coordinates of both worlds—he can go later.
His clone has watched over them for many years, and with the resources and knowledge he left, their cultivation should have long reached the limits of those worlds. Their only threat now is age. But even that, he prepared for. The sealing array will run without his clone, and he left the knowledge of its maintenance behind.
He has already done all he could.
He activates the mirror and burns two hundred merit to summon his consciousness clone back.
After some time, he feels his spirit shifting. For an instant, it is complete—then the feeling fades, only to return again, flickering in and out like a flame in the wind.
And with each surge, new memories flood his mind. Memories of what happened after he left the dragon world and the origin world.
In the dragon world, the memories unfold with clarity.
After he left, his brother, his sister, his two wives, and his children used the knowledge and resources he had entrusted to them. Step by step, they cultivated until they reached the very limit of the world—the Spiritual Grandmaster Realm.
But they did not exhaust even a quarter of their lifespan before the change began. The natural energy of the world started to recede, and the extraordinary slowly vanished. Outside the sealing array, their cultivation would have withered away with the decline of the world itself.
So they chose to enter the sealing array—an array anchored by his own body, one of the world's cornerstones. Within it, their strength would remain preserved, untouched by the world's decay.
His consciousness clone continued to guard them, refining and strengthening the array, ensuring its endurance.
Even now, as his memory flows back into him, the dragon world remains in its long period of scarcity. Natural energy is faint, almost extinguished. Yet the sealing array endures, and his family sleeps safely within, preserved against the world's decline.