Merin sits in silence within the throne, his eyes closed, his mind drifting deeper into comprehension.

If the Ngurut Empire truly hides a fourth-stage extraordinary, then his current strength is far from enough.

A fourth-stage extraordinary could erase him with a thought.

Before such a being makes their choice, they must grasp every fragment of strength available.

He focuses first on the Virtualisation principle of the Law of Illusion.

Step by step, his understanding grows sharper, and he realises the truth of what he had created before.

The priests’ dream walking was not born from the Law of Dream, but from a small principle he himself had unknowingly formed.

The principle of Dreamization.

Through it, reality turns into a dream, matter into mist, and the body into a vessel that can traverse the dream space before reforming again.

The priests never wielded their own power—it was always borrowed from the dream space itself, and when the dream space shut, so too did the ability vanish.

Now he knows: when he completes Virtualisation, they will obtain another ability.

His progress stands at forty-three per cent.

In a few years, he could reach completion, but he does not have years.

He needs strength now.

So he turns toward the other laws he brought from other worlds.

The Law of Vitality responds first, surging within him.

Adaptation, healing, endlessness, fortification—principles he once gathered in the Dragon World—resonate again.

Back then, they were fragments, scattered across the nine fundamental laws and other small laws.

Now, he unites them, and his Law of Vitality stabilises at stage two while its principles remain at stage one.

Yet this world’s vitality is thicker, more complete than in the Dragon World.

It surpasses even the Law of Dream.

Here, he does not need to forge new principles; only comprehend what already exists in this land.

The path forward opens before him, vast and overwhelming, but also filled with hope.

Merin sinks again into cultivation, threads of vitality weaving through his consciousness as he searches for higher comprehension.

Two months pass before the first interruption arrives.

The scouts sent from the western fortress return with news.

They walked through the endless forest for an entire month, but found no trace of civilised races.

When the forest thinned, they stood before an arid desert that stretched beyond sight.

Their supplies dwindled, forcing some to turn back with the information, while others pressed forward into the dunes.

Merin listens in silence, then turns to the ministers and commanders.

His army has regained full strength, the eastern front standing idle with no war pressing against it.

He orders thirty per cent of the eastern front to march west, crush the beasts, and expand the kingdom’s border until it reaches the desert.

The command spreads like fire, and the ministers bow before leaving to enact his will.

Merin closes his eyes again and returns to the sea of comprehension.

He immerses himself in the Law of Vitality, aiming to push the law into stage three, the level that may alter the foundation of his strength.

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Days blur, and then news from the north cuts through his meditation.

The scouts have reached the end of the northern plains, only to face a dense, ancient forest, older and darker than any they have seen.

Those who step into its depths never return, vanishing without a trace.

Beyond the forest, snow-capped mountains rise, towering, visible even from the edges of the trees.

Merin orders his border extended to that ancient forest, staking claim up to the unseen dangers within.

He then shuts the reports away and dives once more into the rhythm of comprehension.

A week passes before another scout kneels before him, trembling with news from the east.

The envoy of the Ngurut Empire had not lied—they worship a god whose authority is rooted in darkness and death.

Yet the scout, being only at the first stage extraordinary, could not perceive the god’s realm or the depth of its power.

Merin acknowledges this with calm understanding, for such truths cannot be revealed by weak eyes.

Another month flows by, the threads of reports uniting.

Now, at last, Merin holds a complete map of the lands surrounding his Dream Kingdom.

To the north lies the ancient, deadly forest, shrouded in danger and mystery.

In the northwest, a vast plain stretches beneath the shadow of the snow-capped mountains.

To the west waits the endless desert.

In the southwest spreads a wet plain, saturated and treacherous.

The south and southeast are cut off by a colossal river.

This river is wide beyond measure, filled with water magic beasts that tear apart every boat or ship, no matter how sturdy.

Even the air is not safe, for the river distorts energy—drones that fly above lose control and plunge into the depths.

To the east lies the looming Ngurut Empire.

And in the northeast stand low, rocky mountains, stark and unyielding.

Scouts advance into the three western directions and the northeast, slowly unravelling what waits beyond.

Merin orders the eastern fortifications to be strengthened further, unwilling to let the empire find weakness.

Then he closes his eyes and sinks again into the comprehension of the Law of Vitality.

Six months slip by in meditation.

At last, he reaches a point where only a single barrier separates him from stage three.

But he cannot cross it.

The Dream Sigil inside his sea of consciousness blocks the way, preventing the Vitality Sigil from fully forming.

Only a phantom appears, hovering incomplete, refusing to condense.

Merin wonders if the two must merge—that perhaps he must weave the sigils together to advance.

The thought lingers without answer until, months later, the moment arrives.

A team of blood cultivators and a priest clash with a pack of magic wolves threatening a small village.

The battle stalls, the wolves circling with cunning ferocity.

Then the beasts strike at the priest, the heart of the formation, who heals and supports the others.

The priest falls, grievously wounded, his consciousness slipping away.

The line buckles, the wolves pressing forward, the village on the edge of ruin.

And then a miracle happens.

The priest’s body glows with radiant green light, and all his wounds vanish in an instant.

Merin, deep within his throne room, feels the resonance.

The Dream Sigil and the phantom Vitality Sigil finally merge, the dream becoming the foundation while vitality fuses into it.

Vitality surges throughout the dream space.

All believers receive the gift—their bodies awaken to a stronger self-healing ability, their lifeforce steadier, their survival more assured.

Merin opens his eyes and realises what he has created.

A new idea blooms in his mind, sharp and luminous.

Merin could outsource his comprehension of the Law of Vitality to all those connected to the dream.

Though he has advanced it to the third stage, he feels keenly that he has not grasped even ten per cent of the true vastness of vitality flowing through the world.

But his purpose is greater—he must raise his realm quickly and begin shaping principles for other laws: illusion, rune, formation, and even the law of world.

He cannot abandon vitality, yet he cannot stagnate.

So he entrusts its comprehension to his believers.

Through the dream space, they draw fragments of his understanding, receiving abilities of healing and recovery.

In return, their own sparks of realisation flow back into him, enriching his consciousness with countless perspectives.

To drive them further, he forges spells from the Law of Vitality and its principles, crystallising his insights into usable forms.

He divides these spells into eight tiers.

The first tier holds spells equivalent to Rank 1 and Rank 2, simple but foundational.

Each ascending tier rises in complexity and power, demanding deeper comprehension.

The eighth tier holds spells equal to Rank 15 and Rank 16, reserved for those who touch the summit of mortal achievement.

He sets a decree within the dream.

Any believer who masters the three spells of the eighth tier will reach Rank 16 and will be able to advance and become a third-stage extraordinary, equal to him in realm.

A DemiGod.

Thus, Merin transforms the dream into not only a kingdom but a vast academy of law, its believers both disciples and partners in comprehension.

He then releases the spells into the dream space, for his believers to discover and begin learning.

Every spell they master feeds back into him, advancing his comprehension of the Law of Vitality.

With the flow stabilised, he turns his focus toward the next step—comprehension of the Law of Rune.

He has walked this path before, in the Dragon World and the Origin World, and this world as well. His comprehension of runes quickly rises, reaching the second stage- Late rank.

But two weeks later, he is forced to stop.

A third-stage flying monster crosses into his kingdom, its trajectory direct toward the capital.

Reports describe it as a lizard with wings, but no one dares call it a flying lizard.

Its aura alone drives magic beasts to their knees, makes even orcs tremble, their bloodlines recoiling in instinctive fear.

When Merin finally sees it, the creature descends in front of the palace, massive wings folding as it lands.

And then, under the eyes of thousands, the dragon’s body shifts, morphing into human form.

Merin’s brow furrows.

For the face that greets him is not a stranger’s—

It is Mia.

The little girl Yanli once found in the Eastern Ocean of the Dragon World—

The child who vanished when his body turned into a mountain.

But now a grown woman and also a Dragon.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep