In a vast oval chamber, six thrones stood spaced evenly along the circular wall. Despite the grandeur of the room—its domed ceiling etched with glowing runes and walls inlaid with veins of crystal—the sparse number of thrones made the space feel strangely hollow, as if it were waiting for something more.
This was the Hall of Resonance—the place where the most critical decisions of the Spirit World were made.
To sit upon one of these thrones, a cultivator had to achieve what few ever could: connect 100 elemental runes and forge a new, unique energy from their comprehension. After Michael's revelations, over twenty cultivators had managed to connect a full set of 100 runes. Yet their strength remained stagnant, no greater than before.
Only five among them succeeded in going further.
Now Six.
Over the years, they created their own elemental energies—entirely new forces born of their understanding—and through this, their strength soared. Others tried to mimic them, copying their rune formations and attempting to follow their paths. While their strength grew, none could match the originals.
The reason? The creators could draw upon 50% more of the world's spiritual energy than those who followed in their footsteps. It was the difference between imitation and origin.
Suddenly, five of the six thrones filled with shimmering light.
Two women and three men appeared, each exuding a power so vast that the air around them seemed to bend.
Elewyn Sacer and Akila—both Female. Wen Qiang was once the Emperor of the Ming Dynasty. Ywet, the Jade Serpent, her skin once scaled and radiant, now smoothed by her choice to take human form. And Aslan, the towering Thunder Lion, now in the shape of a man, though the storm still lived in his golden eyes and crackling aura.
In this world, humanity did not walk the path of cultivation alone. Beasts, too, rose in power and enlightenment. And with great power came great duty—to protect, to guide, to stand as pillars of this world. Beast and man shared that burden equally.
One throne remained empty, waiting.
Aslan turned his sharp gaze toward Elewyn. "What energy did you create?" he asked, voice low and rumbling like distant thunder.
Elewyn raised her hand. In her open palm, a golden orb of lightning flickered into existence—bright, pure, and humming with sacred resonance.
Wen Qiang's eyes narrowed slightly as he studied the energy's fluctuations. "You've merged Thunder elemental energy with Sacred energy," he said.
Elewyn nodded. "I found that Sacred energy, in its purest form, only needs twenty runes each of fire, light, and wind. Increasing those runes beyond that adds little to its overall strength."
She paused, her voice calm but firm. "My comprehension of lightning was deep enough to form thirty runes. I experimented—connected them with the Sacred runes. The result was remarkable. The power surged, especially against creatures of negative energy… like those from the Nightmare World. It dealt nearly double the damage."
Her eyes glinted with quiet pride. "So I continued. I deepened my understanding of lightning, formed ten more runes, and eventually carved a path no one else had tread. Thus, the Sacred Thunder Energy was born."
Akila nodded with a small smile. "Good. You've passed the test to join the High Council."
Elewyn blinked. "It was a test?"
Ywet spoke next, his voice smooth and ageless. "Of course. If you weren't willing to share the method of your unique energy's creation, how could we trust you with something even more vital—the merging of all 100 runes into a single origin rune? That knowledge, once discovered, must be shared with us all."
Elewyn's expression sharpened. "Then you'll all share how you created your unique energies with me?"
Akila gave a small nod. "Yes, of course. But wait until Hayate arrives—then we begin in full."
The chamber fell into silence. Their true bodies were not present, only projections—clones animated by will and cultivated energy. Time passed differently for them in this state, so they waited, patient and unmoved, their consciousnesses periodically returning to their physical bodies.
Then, almost as one, the five stirred.
Their heads turned toward the direction of Athia, sensing something at the same moment.
Aslan's eyes narrowed. "Hayate just used his unique energy… to cast a spell."
Wen Qiang raised an eyebrow. "That quickly? He created a spell with it already?"
Ywet's expression twisted in mild frustration. "Have any of you succeeded in doing that? I've only been using my energy for raw attacks or channeling it through my old spells."
Akila shook her head. "Crafting new spells using hundreds of runes—it's far more difficult than we anticipated."
Aslan nodded slowly. "We must ask him how he did it. We cannot afford to be left behind."
Moments later, the final throne filled.
Hayate's clone appeared without fanfare—instantly, as though teleporting. The seat had been waiting. When the thrones were created for the council, each had left behind a wisp of their unique energy, anchoring their presence across vast distances. These wisps allowed them to project their energy across the world and form a perfect clone at a moment's notice.
Their unique energies could not be absorbed by the world—only carried by their own will, foreign and untamed by natural laws. They were anomalies, forged through sheer comprehension and force of spirit.
As Hayate appeared, his clone settling into the final throne, Aslan wasted no time. "How were you able to create a spell so quickly?" His voice rumbled with curiosity and urgency.
All eyes turned to Hayate, expectation heavy in the silence.
Hayate met their gazes, his expression unreadable. "I was able to craft my spell after gaining insight… from an ancient record."
Ywet leaned forward slightly, his jade-like eyes gleaming. "What record?" he asked, anticipation rising in his voice.
Hayate's gaze turned distant—his eyes reflecting memories twisted with both clarity and weight. "A record of the Human-Beast War."
A subtle shift passed through the room. The atmosphere tightened.
"That war…" he continued, "before the rise of the Greyrose Circus, it was the great conflict that consumed this world. Humans and beasts—known by different names across continents—locked in endless cycles of vengeance. But the root remained the same."
Ywet's voice was low, almost a whisper. "We are not enemies now."
Wen Qiang scoffed lightly. "Hmph. Not anymore. But before the Greyrose Circus appeared, we humans and beasts not only fought each other—we also waged war amongst ourselves. Tribal, territorial, foolish pride... it doesn't matter now."
The others nodded silently, the weight of truth settling deep between them. If not for the Greyrose Circus's invasion, they would have remained scattered—proud, divided, and alone. Never would they have sat in the same circle, never would they have shared their paths or acknowledged the depth of one another's strength.
Hayate's voice broke the stillness.
"In ancient times, there were no cultivation methods. Our ancestors lived in harmony with nature, fought to survive its fury, and from that struggle, a few discovered how to harness its power—forming elemental runes within their spiritual space."
He looked around the room, eyes calm yet sharp. "But their strength alone wasn't enough to survive. They needed to pass on their discoveries. Yet, for ordinary people, comprehending elemental runes was nearly impossible."
He let the words settle before continuing. "You all know how spell runes were created—to bridge that gap. And how cultivation methods emerged to teach people how to channel energy through those runes."
Wen Qiang narrowed his eyes. "You're saying… you created a cultivation method?"
Hayate shook his head. "I tried. I failed."
A pause.
"So I took a different path. I returned to my roots—as a samurai. I asked myself, How could a lower-ranked samurai, someone with no special talent, begin to form my unique energy—Storm Chakra?"
There was a subtle shift in their expressions, intrigued.
"From that thought, I created the Storm Sword Technique, guiding a practitioner from the Apprentice Realm to the Spirit Realm. Surprisingly, it deepened my own understanding and application of storm energy."
He leaned back slightly. "After that, I created similar cultivation methods for other systems—except the Blood Knight Path, as you all know. No beast naturally embodies my unique energy… and I couldn't force it."
"But with each method I crafted, my comprehension grew sharper. My control became more refined. And finally, I attempted to design a cultivation path from Spirit Realm to Spirit King."
He paused. "But I couldn't even begin."
The five fell quiet.
Because Hayate was right.
No known cultivation method guided someone from the Spirit Realm to the Spirit King Realm—at least, not the way methods existed from Mortal to Spirit Realm.
Wen Qiang finally spoke, his voice thoughtful. "That's because our strength at that stage comes not from methods—but from understanding. Comprehending elemental energy, forming runes within our spiritual space… those runes multiply our energy. And when that energy circulates through our body, it nourishes us in return."
They all nodded in understanding.
Akila spoke first. "There was never a real reason to create a cultivation method once we learned that simply deepening our comprehension of elemental energy would raise both our strength and life span. With those two pillars fulfilled, why pursue a systemized path?"
Aslan's tail—still present in his human form—flicked with impatience. "Forget the cultivation theory for now. Tell us how you created the spell. We can return to the rest later."
Hayate gave a faint smile. "I was getting to that."
He inhaled deeply. "Where was I?"
Elewyn answered, "You failed to create a cultivation method."
"Right," Hayate nodded. "After that, I turned my focus to my phantasm. I realized… I never changed the energy within it. In the Spirit Lord Realm, we gain the ability to form our phantasm. And in the Spirit King Realm, we refine it further—until it can carry our consciousness and act independently."
His gaze grew sharper. "So I thought—after forming a new energy, shouldn't the phantasm evolve as well? I took inspiration from the Wind Abyss and theorized that our phantasms needed a core to evolve further. But I couldn't test it."
Ywet raised an eyebrow. "Because of the energy signature?"
Hayate nodded. "Exactly. Creating the core would require a massive surge of energy, one strong enough to alert the Greyrose Circus. If they sensed a new power emerging, they'd act. And not just them—you all might have come looking too."
He smiled faintly. "So instead, I ran the process in my mind—simulating every variation, every outcome, again and again. But when Elewyn formed her unique energy, the balance shifted. The risk lowered."
He leaned forward. "So I took the chance. I created the core. And I succeeded. My phantasm—Storm Lizard—is no longer just a projection. It lives, breathes, and fights as I do. It holds my strength… and my will."
A heavy silence followed as the five absorbed Hayate's words, each running countless calculations in their minds. His method wasn't just bold—it was viable. They realized that with enough mastery over their unique energies, they too could evolve their phantasms using a similar path.
They had all tried, in their own ways, to infuse their phantasms with their unique energies—but each attempt had ended in failure. Some had even scrapped their phantasms entirely, letting them fade.
Yet none had bothered to repair or reconstruct them. Why would they? Their growing mastery over the world's spiritual energy had made the phantasm seem like an outdated tool. Their focus had shifted entirely to external spells, which channeled the world's spiritual energy rather than their own.
But now, hearing Hayate's success, they understood—he had walked a different path. While they reached outward, deepening their communion with the world, Hayate had turned inward, refining the energy that only he could command. And in doing so, he had advanced further.
For now, they cannot tell if Hayate's path is correct and will lead him to the next realm, but it has increased Hayate's strength.
Akila's expression tightened, the joy of discovery quickly dimming into a sharp, cold awareness.
"We may not be the only ones who noticed," she said quietly. "The Greyrose Circus... they might have sensed the surge when you awakened your new phantasm. And if they did, they won't assume it was just you."
Elewyn, Wen Qiang, Aslan, and Ywet fell silent.
If the Circus believed only one of them had advanced, they would prepare.
But if they suspected several had grown stronger…
They would strike.
Right now, they appeared to hold the upper hand—but that was a fragile illusion. The entire Spirit World was locked in a war against a single force from the Nightmare Realm. If the Greyrose Circus requested aid from another force within that vast darkness, the balance would crumble.
And worse, they still didn't know if the Circus had revealed its full strength. Their two leaders had yet to descend into this world. That silence, that delay—it was a threat all its own.
Wen Qiang narrowed his eyes, thoughtful. "Hayate, you waited. You didn't try this method until after Elewyn created her unique energy. There must be a reason."
Hayate nodded. "There is. I didn't mention it before, but I've been thinking about something… something we all know but never talk about. Our world has no cultivation method that carries us from the Spirit Realm to the Spirit King Realm. Our strength increase comes almost entirely from understanding energy and aligning with the rules of this world. But if the rules change—"
"Then everyone else will fall," Aslan said grimly, finishing the thought. "Only we, the six who formed unique energies independent of the world, would retain our power. But even then—"
"Even then, we'd only last for a short while," Elewyn added. "Without the ability to replenish energy from the world, we'd fall too. Just a little slower."
Aslan nodded. "So… we need a cultivation method. One that can function even if the world's rules are warped."
"But even that won't be enough," Wen Qiang said, frowning. "If the world's energy and laws change, a method might let Spirit Realm cultivators last a little longer—but in the end, they'd still be crushed. Without energy, without structure, we're nothing."
Hayate exhaled slowly. "That's why I called this meeting. I propose we launch a general assault. We can't keep stalling. We don't have the luxury of waiting 170 years for the world's laws to shift fully. Even a slight change—just a ripple—could weaken our people. And when that happens, the Circus will move."
Akila's eyes narrowed, her voice steady. "You're right… but to win, we must find a way to destroy the Blood Moon."
Wen Qiang added, "It's not just a symbol—it's above our skies, beyond reach. We can't even survive up there. Let alone destroy it."
Hayate met their eyes. "Before, we couldn't. But now… we might."
Aslan frowned. "But forming a new phantasm takes years, decades even."
Ywet hissed, frustrated. "Hayate, you should have told us before you tried this. We could've prepared—maybe even helped refine the method."
Hayate's expression hardened. "When I arrived, all of you were thrilled to find a way forward. But the moment I told you how, now I'm being blamed?"
Aslan rumbled, "We're happy you succeeded. But why risk it alone? You know what's at stake."
Hayate replied sharply, "If I hadn't tried it, how would we know it works at all?"
Wen Qiang sighed. "Even so, if you had shared it with us, we could've used joint deduction to test its viability before risking exposure."
Hayate opened his mouth to respond—but Akila raised her hand, silencing them all.
"Enough," she said firmly. "This isn't the time for blame. What's done is done. The truth is, Hayate's method worked. And now it's our only path forward."
She looked to each of them. "We follow Hayate's plan. We form new phantasms using our unique energies. Then we use them to destroy the Blood Moon."
Turning back to Hayate, she continued, "Teach your energy to those who've comprehended elements similar to yours. Help them build their own phantasms."
"And spread the word—let them know the truth. That they don't need to rely on just one element. That they can combine multiple elements to form the 100 runes."
Until now, they had kept this knowledge secret—hidden from all but Spirit Kings—out of fear the Greyrose Circus would catch wind of their progress.
But with Hayate's success, the veil had been lifted. The fig leaf was gone.
There was no reason to keep it secret anymore.
----
The Clown sat atop a jagged hill in the Black Hall region, gazing down at the distant flicker of the human main camp. His mismatched eyes scanned the terrain, searching—hoping—for a glimpse of Kanoru. Quiet. That's how he wanted it. A clean, silent kill. If he could eliminate Kanoru without raising an alarm, then before Rosie and Zilian descended, his own strength could recover to False Tier-2.
And once he reached that threshold, no one would stand in their way.
From behind, a familiar voice slipped through the still air.
"Feel that energy fluctuation from Athia?" Xenia asked.
"I did," the Clown replied without turning. "They've found a path to reach the peak of Tier-1... and perhaps even touched the first step of Tier-2."
Xenia's tone tightened. "Then, shouldn't we act now?"
"No need," he said calmly. "When Samda completes the formation, Rosie and Zilian will descend. My strength will return to False Tier-2. Even if the natives improve, it won't matter. None of them can change the outcome without someone breaking through to True Tier-2."
He turned slightly, just enough for Xenia to catch the grin twisting beneath his mask.
"This world doesn't allow that. Its rules are sealed."
Xenia gave a slight nod and vanished without another word. She didn't ask how the Clown knew the world's limits—because to her, it didn't matter. She wasn't of this world.
The Clown lingered a moment longer, scanning for Kanoru. But there was nothing. The man was elusive. With only a month left before the formation's completion, the Clown made his choice. Kanoru could wait.
The formation was more important.
Once it was finished, Rosie and Zilian would arrive—and the doom of this world would be sealed.
To stand a chance against what was coming, the natives would need someone to break through to Tier-2. Nothing less could even touch the Blood Moon.
That scarlet eye looming above the world, bleeding crimson light since the first day of invasion—it wasn't natural. It was a projection. A spell cast by the Blood Queen, a Tier-5 being known for selling fragments of her magic across the realms.
Once in a while, she offered one of her spells for auction—sealed within scrolls and stripped of her will. The Clown and his faction had bought one such spell, along with the coordinates of this world, in a high-stakes auction deep within the Nightmare Realm.
The spell tore open the fabric of space—something only Tier-5 beings could manipulate—and created a stable channel between worlds.
The projection had no awareness. No sentience. But its power was very real.
And so to destroy it, the bare minimum required was the strength of an early Tier-2 being.
That kind of power did not exist here.
Not among the natives.
When the Clown had been wounded early in the war, forced to devour the bones of fallen natives to regenerate, he had hidden his Nightmare aura just enough to feel the pulse of this world. That was when he uncovered the truth:
This world's rules were sealed. The natural laws simply would not allow a native to ascend beyond Tier-1. No matter how talented they were, how many runes they formed, how deep their understanding ran—the ceiling held.
Unbreakable.
If it weren't for Rosie's urgent message—news that the Grey King was preparing to invade a middle-tier world—they might've taken their time here. With each passing year, the world's suppressive grip weakened, and the Clown could have slowly regained his full Tier-2 strength. He alone could've crushed the resistance.
But the Evil King's announcement changed everything.
Their entire region was mobilizing.
The war here had to end—fast.
This world would be sacrificed to the Nightmare Will, fed into the hunger of the Blood Moon. Rosie needed to ascend to Tier-3 to survive what was coming next, and if they lingered too long, to conquer this world, they would be nothing more than cannon fodder in the approaching storm.
Because when the summon of the Evil King will come, they would have no choice but to return.
So they would have to take this world.
Quickly.
Efficiently.
And without mercy.