The shattered mountain trembles.

Rocks shift.

Ice cracks.

Then the entire pile of rubble suddenly erupts outward.

Stone fragments explode into the air.

Snow and dust scatter across the battlefield.

From within the rising cloud, a figure ascends slowly.

Merin rises from the broken mountain.

His robe flutters lightly in the cold wind as he floats upward through the drifting snow.

The dust settles.

Once again, he stands in the sky.

Face-to-face with the man.

Zefre stares at him.

For a moment, he says nothing.

Then a faint smile appears.

“If you beg me now,” Zefre says calmly, “I may consider forgiving you and letting you leave.”

The words spread across the frozen valley.

Far below, Merin’s soldiers watch the scene from the edge of the forest.

Many of them feel their hearts tighten.

Some of the newly surrendered tribesmen cannot restrain themselves.

“Marquis!”

“Ask for forgiveness!”

“Live first!”

Their voices echo through the trees.

They do not understand Merin completely.

For them, survival is everything.

But the soldiers of the Duan Family remain silent.

None of them shouts.

None of them pleaded.

They know their lord.

Their lord may die.

But he will never bow his head and beg for his life.

Merin hears the voices.

Yet his expression does not change.

He answers Zefre calmly.

“There is no need.”

“You may do your best.”

Zefre stares at him.

Then the man’s lips twist slowly into a grin.

“Good.”

“I like your confidence.”

His eyes gleam with cruel amusement.

“Take that confidence with you into your next life.”

Zefre lowers his voice into a whisper.

“Annihilation Thunder Spear.”

The moment the words leave his mouth, his aura changes.

He spreads both arms outward.

Then he opens his palms.

Power gathers immediately.

On one palm, frost begins to form.

Ice spreads outward rapidly.

The air around it freezes.

A mist of white frost drifts downward.

On the other hand, flames appear.

Yet strangely, the flames themselves soon vanish.

The fire disappears.

But the heat remains.

The invisible heat melts the snow far below on the ground.

Zefre slowly brings both palms together before him.

Ice and fire meet.

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The moment they collide, violent reactions begin.

Energy erupts between his hands.

The clash of elements tears at his flesh.

Cuts open across his palms.

Burns spread across his skin.

Frostbite forms along his fingers.

Blood drips through the storm of energy.

Yet Zefre continues without hesitation.

Lightning begins gathering.

Thunder energy flows into the collision of ice and fire.

The three elements twist together violently.

Zefre’s will forces them into shape.

Slowly, the chaotic energy stabilises.

A weapon forms.

A spear.

It is completely black.

Lightning coils around it like living snakes.

Ice and fire remain sealed within its core.

The moment the spear stabilises, the sky grows silent.

Even the wind pauses.

Merin’s senses erupt in warning.

Every instinct screams danger.

Get away.

Leave immediately.

Distance yourself as far as possible.

Yet Merin does not move.

Instead, he inhales slowly.

His mind becomes clear.

He channels his energy outward.

Sword energy gathers before him.

In the air, a massive sword forms.

Its blade shimmers with condensed virtual energy and sword law.

Zefre moves first.

He thrusts his arm forward.

The spear flies.

It shoots through the air like a black comet.

At the same moment, Merin swings his arm.

The giant sword launches forward.

The two weapons streak toward each other across the sky.

Their collision comes instantly.

The spear pierces straight through the sword.

The blade shatters.

Fragments of sword energy disperse across the air.

But the attack leaves something behind.

Traces of virtual energy cling to the spear.

The spear continues forward.

Unstoppable.

Merin raises his hand.

His palm opens.

Virtual energy transforms instantly.

A gravity field forms before him.

An invisible force spreads outward.

The spear crashes into the force field.

The collision shakes the air violently.

Merin’s body trembles.

The spear continues pushing forward.

Slowly.

Relentlessly.

Merin struggles to hold it back.

Sweat forms on his forehead.

Inside the force field, the Virtual Field begins analysing the spear.

Now his Virtual Law has reached Level Four.

The analysis speed is far faster than before.

Yet Merin still feels it is too slow.

The spear moves closer.

Inch by inch.

Each moment, the pressure increases.

Merin grits his teeth.

Now he no longer wishes to die.

He has already begun creating a new cultivation technique.

If he dies now, that work will vanish unfinished.

Death itself does not truly frighten him.

If he dies, his soul will return to his main body in the supreme world.

Then he will descend again into the human world.

But that process takes time.

Time he cannot waste.

A new Supreme Eminent is about to be born.

Merin intends to become the next Supreme.

He cannot afford delays.

“AHHH!”

Merin roars.

He burns his vitality.

Life force erupts through his body.

The power of the gravity field increases dramatically.

The spear begins slowing.

Then slowly…

It begins moving backwards.

Merin feels hope rising.

He can win.

Then his expression suddenly changes.

Information flows from the Virtual Field.

A final analysis result.

Merin looks upward.

Zefre watches him calmly.

A cold smile appears on the man’s face.

He snaps his fingers lightly.

“Explode.”

The spear detonates instantly.

The annihilation energy created from ice, fire, and thunder expands outward.

A massive storm of destructive power engulfs Merin.

The explosion swallows him completely.

Ice, fire, and thunder erupt together, forming a storm of annihilation that twists violently around Merin’s body.

Inside that storm, Merin roars.

His vitality burns like a blazing furnace.

Life force pours from his body and forms a trembling forcefield around him.

The barrier flickers constantly as the annihilation energy slams against it again and again.

Each collision shakes his body.

Each moment consumes more of his life.

For the first time since arriving in this world, Merin feels the weight of life and death clearly.

Before this moment, he never truly cared.

After the Dao poison had corrupted his Law in the supreme world, he had already believed the race for the Supreme throne was over for him.

He thought he had already lost.

When he entered this world and began cultivation again, he treated it lightly.

Death here would not be real death.

If he died, his soul would return to his main body.

Then he would descend again.

The cycle could continue.

Because of that belief, he never feared death in this world.

He assumed the Supreme throne was already beyond his reach.

Most of his former competitors had already reached the Saint King Stage.

Only the Quasi-Supreme realm separated them from becoming the next Supreme.

And he was far behind.

Without time to cultivate properly, he believed his only chance was to break through the Fifth Stage using the cultivation system of the human world.

But everything changed.

The creation of the new technique changed everything.

If he completes it…

If he perfects the path of the Virtual Space Law…

Then he can surpass them all.

He can reach the Nine Realms of Quasi-Supreme before anyone ascends.

And then return to the supreme world to compete for the Supreme throne once more.

That possibility ignites something inside him.

Hope.

Determination.

Merin roars again.

His vitality burns even faster.

Life force flows into the collapsing forcefield.

The storm around him howls like a living beast.

Lightning tears across his body.

Frost freezes his flesh.

Fire burns through his veins.

Every second feels like an eternity.

Merin struggles.

His body trembles.

His forcefield cracks.

He burns more life to repair it.

The destruction continues.

The storm slowly weakens.

But Merin’s vitality also fades rapidly.

Above the battlefield, Zefre watches silently.

A faint frown forms on his face.

He can sense Merin’s aura inside the storm.

It is extremely weak now.

Almost extinguished.

Yet it does not disappear.

The storm gradually loses its strength.

The lightning fades.

The frost dissolves.

The fire dies.

When the last traces of the spell vanish, the sky becomes quiet again.

Something falls from the air.

Merin’s body drops slowly toward the ground.

He lands heavily on the frozen earth.

His appearance has changed completely.

His hair has turned white.

Deep wrinkles cover his face and skin.

His body looks aged and frail.

Years of life burned away in a single battle.

Zefre descends slowly and looks down at him.

The man clicks his tongue softly.

“Such a waste.”

For a brief moment, he considers something.

Ending Merin now.

One strike would finish it.

But Zefre immediately shakes his head.

If he does that, he must kill everyone present.

Every soldier.

Every tribesman.

If even one person escapes, the leader will learn the truth.

The leader will know Zefre disobeyed his orders.

That risk is too great.

And Merin has already burned most of his lifespan.

Even if he survives, he will not be able to participate in the leader’s mission ten years later.

For Zefre, that result is enough.

He turns away.

Without another word, his body rises into the air.

A streak of light shoots across the sky as he flies deeper into the Magoon Mountains.

Far below, Merin’s soldiers finally move.

The moment Zefre disappears, they rush forward.

Ziqi arrives first.

He kneels beside Merin.

“My lord!”

“Are you alright?”

Merin slowly opens his eyes.

His breathing is weak.

Speaking costs him great effort.

“Make camp…”

His voice is barely audible.

“I need to retreat.”

Then he closes his eyes.

His mind sinks into deep recovery.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep