Merin steps into another dead-end void space, his expression calm yet vigilant.

The air ripples.

A wave stirs at the centre of the chamber, spreading outward in concentric circles, as if reality itself is being peeled open.

Merin narrows his eyes, waiting for the familiar emergence of a lizard monster.

But instead, a sharp chirp echoes through the emptiness.

From the distortion bursts forth a colossal bird, its body wreathed in violet flames that lick hungrily at the void.

The bird lets out a piercing cry, and with one sweep of its wings, a sea of violet fire floods toward him.

Merin frowns, unconcerned at first.

To him, it seems nothing more than a fire attribute beast.

With a wave of his hand, a shield of condensed space energy forms before him, shimmering like crystal glass.

Then the flames crash into it.

His eyes widen as the shield evaporates in an instant. The violet fire eats away not just at his defence but at the very fabric of space itself.

The blast hurls him backwards, smashing him against the sealed portal behind.

Staggering, Merin’s face twists in shock.

“This fire… it doesn’t burn flesh. It burns space.”

The bird shrieks again, its wings glowing brighter as another torrent of violet flames gathers. Merin’s body blurs.

With a twist of his spiritual body, he vanishes from sight, reappearing in the far corner of the void.

His movement technique carries him clear as the second wave of fire devours where he once stood, leaving only shredded gaps in space.

The violet bird screeches, wings beating like thunder, hurling wave after wave of fire across the void.

Merin darts between flames, his figure flickering, dodging by a hair’s breadth each time.

But every escape only tightens the knot in his chest.

His claws slash through the air once, twice, thrice—but there is nothing to strike.

He cannot reach the bird, not from this distance.

His only weapon is the law of space, embodied in his claws, but that demands closeness.

Against a beast that shrouds itself in fire, eating the very law he wields, getting near feels like stepping into death.

A bitter smile flickers on his lips between dodges.

“Another shortcoming… distance. I have no way to strike from afar.”

It is a discovery he should welcome—awareness of weakness is the first step to strength—but the trial has no patience for study.

He grits his teeth, twisting aside as another sheet of violet fire grazes past, the edges tearing open small void cracks around him.

His body trembles from the shockwaves, yet he steadies himself.

“How to defeat it…”

His gaze sharpens.

For now, only one path remains.

He must rely on his defensive and movement techniques, inching closer until his claws can tear through the bird’s body.

Slowing his steps, Merin halts his frantic escapes.

He raises a shield of space, letting the violet sea crash against it.

The shield quivers, bends, and then begins to collapse as the flames eat through.

But he doesn’t panic.

The instant his shield vanishes, he blurs away, reappearing on the far side of the chamber.

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Again and again, he repeats the process. Raise a shield. Let it burn. Escape at the last breath. His body moves, but his mind is elsewhere, cold and focused, studying.

Every flicker of flame, every tremor as his shield collapses, he perceives it all, tracing the way the violet fire gnaws at space.

Slowly, patterns emerge in his thoughts. His defence doesn’t need to resist. It doesn’t need to block.

It needs to redirect.

A spark flashes in his eyes.

“Not a wall… but a path of displacement.”

Even as fire surges again, Merin steadies himself, reshaping his technique in the crucible of life and death.

Merin’s shields rise and fall, each one torn apart by violet fire, each one feeding his comprehension.

His breath grows heavy, his skin scorched and spiritual body strained, but his eyes sharpen like blades.

The bird shrieks again, wings unleashing another tide of flame.

Merin doesn’t panic. Instead of forming a thick shield to block, he twists the space around him, shaping it into a curve.

The fire crashes down—and instead of devouring the shield, it slides, bent aside, veering harmlessly into the void’s depths.

Merin’s lips curl.

“It works.”

The violet bird bellows in fury, as if sensing the change.

Its body erupts in brighter flames, and its wings beat, summoning a storm of firestorms that rain from above.

Merin spreads both arms, layering his new defence—displacement shields that bend the fire’s path rather than endure its hunger.

Flames stream like rivers around him, shredding the void but leaving his figure untouched.

Yet the technique is crude.

His shields flicker, imperfect, and stray fire lashes him, burning across his chest and arms.

Pain cuts deep, but he doesn’t stop. Every injury refines his control, every scar presses him closer to mastery.

The bird dives, its claws blazing, ripping through the void straight at him.

Merin’s figure blurs, weaving displacement barriers as he moves.

The bird’s flames trail behind him, sucked away, bent off course. For the first time, he closes the gap.

Within striking range, his claws gleam with space energy.

His movements are slower than he wants, his defences strained, but his killing intent surges.

“Now… my turn.”

He rakes his claws across the air.

Space splits, tearing open like fabric, and the rift lances across the bird’s chest.

Violet flames scatter into broken sparks. The beast shrieks, staggering, but not yet falling.

Merin doesn’t hesitate.

He bends space itself, using his defensive displacement not to ward off flames but to twist his own body’s path, slingshotting him forward.

His claws ignite with concentrated law of space as he tears down again, aiming to rip the beast apart.

Merin’s claws rip across the bird’s chest one final time, space shrieking as it collapses inward.

The violet beast cries out, its body unravelling into fragments of fire and light before dissolving completely.

What remains drifts in the void—a crystal, blazing faintly, pulsing with strange power.

Merin catches it in his palm, the cool hardness of the source steady against his skin. He narrows his eyes.

“A fire source crystal? Here?”

For a moment, he only stares, unease threading his features.

The trial is built on space, every step bound by the law of space.

Why, then, would a fire creature appear within it? The question churns through him, but with no one to answer and no path to follow, he exhales slowly and shakes his head.

“Perhaps the truth will show itself if I keep passing the trial.”

He sits cross-legged, holding the crystal close, and draws in a thread of its energy.

At once, his eyes snap wide in shock.

This isn’t fire at all—or not fire alone.

The energy splits as it seeps into him, layered, fire veined with space.

The fire burns, yes, but every flame leans on the structure of space beneath it, like branches sprouting from a hidden root.

Merin steadies his breathing and draws in another wisp.

His spirit probes carefully, dissecting the energy strand by strand.

Again, he sees it—the fire can only exist because the space law sustains it. Without the skeleton of space, the fire would collapse into nothing.

Understanding sparks in his gaze. This isn’t a mistake. This is another path of the trial. Another resource. Another step deeper into the law of space.

With patience bordering on reverence, Merin continues, absorbing the crystal wisp by wisp.

Each one sharpens his comprehension, deepens the rhythm of space within him, though the fire itself remains beyond his grasp.

Hours bleed into silence, his form trembling as the last strand flows into his body.

At last, the crystal fades into dust, leaving his palm empty. Merin exhales, disappointment and resolve mingling in his chest.

“I couldn’t derive fire from space… not yet.”

He rises, claws flexing, body humming with a sharper presence than before.

Without hesitation, he steps toward the portal. The void bends, shifting, and he reenters the labyrinth.

Now, the maze no longer feels like aimless torment.

Each dead end promises more than monsters.

Each foe, each crystal, is both a key to survival and a teacher of space.

And so, hunting for monsters and comprehension alike, Merin pushes deeper into the labyrinth.

Until, at last, another dead end opens before him. The air stirs.

Space ripples. Something waits within the dark.

From the trembling centre, a low guttural rumble echoes, and a massive crocodile heaves into sight, its scales glistening with frost.

Its maw yawns open, and a tide of gray-white fog pours forth, rolling over the void like a flood.

Merin reacts instantly, layering his shield of displaced space.

For a moment, the fog presses against it, but then the air shatters with a crystalline crack.

His shield freezes solid, locked in ice, and the creeping frost surges toward him.

His eyes narrow. With a flicker of thought, his form blurs, vanishing from the advancing fog as his movement technique carries him clear.

Landing light on the void’s surface, he fixes his gaze on the crocodile.

Its cold, lidless eyes gleam faintly in the dark, and its breath steams with each exhale. Merin’s lips curve into a thin line.

“A beast that derived ice energy from the law of space.”

The monster answers not with sound, but with motion—its colossal tail whips around, snapping the void apart.

From the swing, water unspools, thick and heavy, a torrent lashing toward him like a living whip.

Merin twists aside, body flashing just beyond its reach.

The torrent rips past, spraying droplets that vanish into nothing.

His gaze sharpens, recognition dawning.

“Also, water energy.”

The void grows tense again, beast and man circling, space humming between them.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep