Thousand Spirit Continent, Nether Mine.
Merin walks toward the mine exit, his satchel heavy.
Today's harvest is good—five Nether spiritual stones.
He halts.
Three men block the path ahead.
He knows them too well, and rage coils inside before he can stop it.
Every time he sees them, control slips.
He clamps down, bottling the wrath, because Nether energy gnaws not only at the body but at the spirit.
His own spirit nears full corruption, and that makes it easy for anger to surface.
Galen stands on the right, buzz-cut hair bristling.
"Lin Yu, I heard you had a good harvest. How about sharing some with us?"
Zoin, dark spirit clan, waits on the left.
"We don't need much—only four."
Galen's hand stretches for Merin's satchel.
Merin smacks it away.
"No."
Zoin's eyes narrow.
"You dare say no to us?" Zoin asks, bewilderment flickering in his eyes.
Before, Merin would have handed them his extra Nether spirit stone without protest.
Tang Zikun, standing in the centre—their boss—pulls out a bronze badge.
"Are you still telling me no?"
The bronze badge is earned by winning ten consecutive fights in the arena.
It grants a cruel privilege—holders can challenge miners without a badge.
If the badge-holder wins, they gain nothing.
If the miner wins, they take the badge.
That risk is why most badge-holders never challenge the badge-less.
Instead, they use the badge as intimidation, because miners without one are branded cowards too afraid to step into the life-and-death arena.
Merin once bowed to that fear and gave up his stones.
But not anymore.
"Yes," Merin says firmly.
Tang Zikun narrows his eyes, searching for weakness, trying to see if Merin is bluffing.
But Merin's gaze holds steady—no fear, no retreat.
Tang Zikun's face hardens, and for a moment, he considers walking away.
Then he notices the other miners watching.
If he leaves empty-handed, others will follow Merin's example and stop giving up their Nether spirit stones.
That would mean his death.
Winning ten fights in the arena does not grant freedom.
Every month, a bronze badge holder must challenge another bronze rank—or be challenged—to a life-and-death battle.
The only way to survive is to stay strong, and strength demands spirit stones.
Without them, he cannot last.
So Tang Zikun understands he cannot let Merin's defiance pass.
"I challenge you," he declares coldly.
"Let's meet in the arena tomorrow," Merin answers.
Far away, in the city's arena, glowing script etches itself onto the fight board.
The schedule for tomorrow appears—Tang Zikun vs Lin Yu, 5 p.m.
At the same time, the notice imprints itself inside Merin's mind.
The miners think no one watches them, but in truth, an advanced method tracks every challenge.
A method so subtle that they never even noticed.
Merin returns to his cave.
It is not truly new anymore—centuries have passed since his last cave was destroyed.
But the fourth stage of his cultivation remains incomplete.
He stopped at the final step—the transformation of his brain.
In his realm, even if his brain turns to dust, he will not die.
It will recover on its own.
But during that recovery, his cultivation energy will be sealed.
Nether energy is not known for healing.
Thirty-five years ago, he transformed every part of his body except the brain.
Since then, he has avoided this step.
Instead, he trained his control over Nether energy.
Now he can compress it into threads as thin as hair needles.
He sits cross-legged.
He places five Nether spirit stones before him.
All five are needed to transform his brain into a Nether brain.
Here's the continuation, carrying Merin straight into the dangerous transformation process in your one-sentence-paragraph style:
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Merin exhales slowly, steadying his spirit.
The five Nether spirit stones glow faintly, their dark radiance pulsing in rhythm with his breath.
He draws in the Nether energy, guiding it into threads fine as needles.
Each thread pierces toward his skull, sliding into the brain with surgical precision.
Agony explodes instantly, a storm of fire and shadow ripping through his mind.
His vision fractures into countless shards of light and darkness.
Memories blur, thoughts splinter, and his sense of self trembles on the edge of collapse.
He clenches his teeth, forcing the needles deeper, threading the energy through every fold of his brain.
The spirit stones crumble one by one, their essence pouring into him.
With each stone consumed, the pressure mounts, threatening to crush his consciousness.
Blood seeps from his nose, his ears, even his eyes, hissing as it evaporates under the Nether's touch.
For a heartbeat, his awareness flickers out, leaving only emptiness.
Then it surges back, sharper, harder, carried by the torrent of energy reshaping him from within.
The fourth stone shatters, and the final step begins.
Nether energy floods the core of his brain, grinding against the fragile threads of his soul.
His body convulses, clawing at the stone beneath him, as if something vast is devouring his mind.
But he does not retreat.
He anchors himself in the abyss, refusing to let go.
The fifth stone collapses into dust, its power ripping through the last barrier.
A roar like collapsing heavens bursts inside his skull.
The transformation completes—his brain dissolves, then reforms, carved entirely from Nether energy.
Silence follows.
Merin opens his eyes, black light flickering deep within.
The Nether brain is born.
But the consequence follows at once.
The Nether energy in his body riots.
It surges through his acupoints, flooding into his sea of consciousness and his dream world.
The dream world does not matter.
It is only a nascent world, not yet truly formed, but it is still a world.
So the invasion matters little.
But his sea of consciousness is different.
There, his emotions spiral out of control.
The Nether energy seeks to forcefully transform his spirit and soul.
He cannot allow it.
The transformation must remain under his will.
Any flaw in his sea of consciousness will leave scars deeper than death.
Merin practices the technique written in the fifth stage of the Nether Body Technique.
A phantom emerges within his sea of consciousness.
It is a perfect replica of his soul.
He shifts his spirit and soul energy into the phantom.
The replica becomes his anchor.
He guides the rampaging Nether energy into it, forcing the chaos to follow his command.
The wild current shifts, condensing, reshaping.
Nether energy begins to transform into Nether spirit.
All the rioting energy in his sea of consciousness is channelled into the replica.
The process nears completion, the pressure suffocating yet steady.
At the final step, a blade of spirit manifests in Merin's sea of consciousness.
Its edge gleams with the authority to divide soul itself.
Ruthlessness flashes in Merin's eyes.
"I must stop thinking of myself as Merin," he whispers, "and live as Lin Yu, or I will never advance."
The blade descends.
It strikes with precision, severing a single fragment from his soul.
Pain surges, then stillness follows.
The fragment—heavy with the emotion of anger—is carved free.
His fury vanishes at once, leaving only cold clarity behind.
The severed fragment drifts into the Nether spirit, fusing with it.
The transformation is complete.
He did it for one reason only—to form his true spirit.
After disconnecting from the main body, his cultivation is trapped at the Immortal Lord realm.
The true spirit is like an identity, an I.D. under heaven.
Without it, no thunder tribulation will ever fall.
Without it, he does not exist in the eyes of the heavens.
Only by obtaining this identity can the thunder tribulation fall on him, and he can break through the Immortal King realm.
Otherwise, he would remain at the Immortal Lord realm forever.
He can increase his strength, but what does it matter when one day, ultimately, his life span comes to an end.
An Immortal Lord has a lifespan of 10000 years, and he is more than 500 years old and after practising the fourth stage of the Nether Body technique.
In total, he has lost 200 years of life, and so his age is considered this be more than 700 years old.
Then, he also has around 9300 years to live. It is massive, double that of any existing civilisation on Earth.
But it is nothing if he wants to advance to the Immortal King realm.
His cultivation is still in the initial Immortal Lord realm and is sealed.
Till his cultivation remains sealed, he cannot advance.
For that, he needs to reach the eighth stage of the Nether Body technique.
That will take thousands of years of his life, according to the speed he is practising the technique.
But he cannot give thousands of years to reach the eighth stage.
So, he severed the emotion of anger from his soul.
It strengthens the newly formed nether spirit, which will help to quickly practise the Nether Body Refining Technique.
Now the fifth stage looms before him, ten times more difficult.
The demands for resources are immense, and the risks even greater.
But the Nether spirit he has formed is the key.
It will serve as the foundation to endure the fifth stage.