Merin watches them kneel on the scorched ground, sweat clinging to their faces, eyes wide with fear and disbelief.
He descends slowly, landing with calm purpose, and as his feet touch the earth, a green wave pulses outward from beneath him.
The wave spreads in every direction—lush, vibrant.
The cracked and baked ground repairs itself, grass bursts forth, greener and stronger than before, humming with vitality.
All around Tomio City, the wounded stir—gashes close, broken bones knit, and even those who had lost limbs stare in shock as their bodies restore.
Sickly villagers gasp in wonder as colour returns to their skin.
In moments, the city is whole again—renewed.
Merin steps forward, closing the distance to the four enemies.
His gaze narrows—not arrogant, but wary.
The thunder attack had been real danger; if not for his timely shift into the life structure of the Thunder Swallowing Whale, it might have done more than sting.
He stops a few feet in front of them, voice low and calm, "Give me the method behind your runes and that formation."
He pauses, eyes narrowing in thought, then adds flatly, "I could lie and say I'd let you go if you handed it over. But we both know I won't."
His tone hardens, final, "So surrender the knowledge—and your deaths will be swift."
But the four remain silent, defiant even in defeat, eyes filled with stubborn pride.
Just then, Zhen Qi approaches, stopping a respectful distance behind.
"Lord," he says with a bow, "Leave them to us. We have… methods. We'll get what you need."
Merin shakes his head. "Too slow. I have a better way."
He steps forward, bends slightly, and presses his palm to one of the enemy's foreheads.
"If you won't speak," Merin says coldly, "then I'll take it from your mind."
He closes his eyes and stretches his mental energy outward, invading the enemy's mind with a force that crashes down like a tidal wave.
Though they are of the same cultivation realm, the difference in mental strength is chasmic. Merin slices through the man's defences like silk, entering the mental space without resistance.
But before he can probe deeper, a black-and-white rune at the centre of a strange formation flares to life.
Merin's instincts scream a warning.
The mental space begins to collapse, rupturing like a fragile glass dome.
He retracts his energy in a flash, just in time to avoid being caught in the backlash.
His eyes snap open to see the enemy convulsing, blood streaming from his nose, eyes, and mouth.
Still breathing—but brain-dead.
Silently, Merin lowers his hand as the man's body crumples to the ground.
He frowns.
There was no spiritual core in that mind—only a rune array, foreign and ominous.
They weren't cultivating along the spiritual path… but something else entirely.
A different method.
A different system.
A dangerous unknown.
Without hesitation, he turns to the next one and plunges into his mind.
The result is identical—no spiritual core, only runes, and the same self-destructive trap.
He tries the last two—same result each time.
He learns nothing about their motivations, nothing about who sent them, and yet what he does confirm is more than enough:
They don't walk the spiritual path.
They're part of something new—something hidden.
He straightens, looking past their ruined bodies toward the remaining twelve captured spiritual masters, those whose names and faces he already knows.
They are known figures now, but until today, Merin had never even heard of them.
Ordinary spiritual masters—unremarkable and not worth the attention of Yanli, Asuna, or even his siblings during their visits to the Sky Island.
Even though they had reached the realm of spiritual masters, their path was unorthodox, and in the eyes of cultivators who followed the true way, they held less value than even True Core Realm disciples on the proper path.
But now that didn't matter.
Titles, realms, and names—all meaningless to Merin.
He wanted only one thing: answers.
With a casual wave of his hand, the vines coiled around the twelve captives vanished.
The men rose slowly, shakily, facing him with haunted eyes—some trembling, others crying silently, expecting judgment to fall on them like a blade.
Merin scanned their faces.
He could feel the fear rolling off them like heat off scorched stone.
"I only want to know one thing," he said, voice calm but firm. "Answer, and you'll be imprisoned and handed over to the Spirit Council for punishment."
A wave of relief washed over their faces—some even exhaled loudly, as if they had been holding their breath since the battle ended.
They had expected death.
And none of them would have complained if it came—after all, they had attacked a city.
They deserved it.
But instead, a question.
Master Takanuki, the first name Merin had caught during the battle, cleared his throat and spoke. "We don't know who they were," he said, his voice brittle. "Those four—they weren't part of our group. Taiga brought them."
Another one spoke quickly, "He said they'd help us. That we'd take Tomio City—and that your transformation technique notes were the goal."
Merin's brows furrowed.
The name Taiga struck a memory, a shadow from the past—but it didn't match the man they spoke of.
He narrows his gaze. "Who is this Taiga?"
One of them quickly answers, "A spiritual master who controls one of the largest black markets in the Eastern Region."
Merin's voice turns colder. "Then go. Bring him to me. And don't think about escaping—you all know what will happen if you try."
Another asks cautiously, "Sir… if we bring him to you, will our crimes be forgiven?"
A smirk tugs at Merin's lips. "You think you're in a position to negotiate with me?"
He releases a sliver of his aura.
The air turns heavy. The ground groans. Their knees buckle from the sheer pressure.
"Bring him," Merin says calmly, "and I'll consider lessening your punishment."
Wounded and trembling, they nod and lift into the sky, flying away as fast as their injuries allow.
Kuro steps beside him, frowning. "Brother, they'll run."
Merin watches the horizon. "Run where? The Yao Region? They'll be slaves the moment they cross the border and die without dignity. Staying and facing trial is the best choice they have."
His sister and two fiancées approach, relief and concern mingling on their faces.
One by one, they hug him—soft embraces filled with twenty years of waiting.
Asuna looks up at him, silver hair gleaming. "When did you get back?"
"I regained my human form yesterday," Merin replies. "And arrived here this morning."
His sister folds her arms, glaring. "You arrived this morning? Then why didn't you help when the city was attacked?"
Before Merin can respond, a soft voice chimes in behind them.
"Kanoru knew about the attack before it began," Mia says, stepping forward with her usual calm.
Merin feels three pairs of eyes settle on him like blades.
He sighs. "I didn't step in at the start," he says, gesturing toward the four corpses, "because I was waiting for them to reveal themselves."
Kuro asks, "Did you find out anything about them?"
Yanli speaks before he can answer, thoughtfully. "Their energy felt strange… unnatural. Their techniques, too. Not spiritual cultivation."
Merin nods. "Inside their mental space, I found no spiritual core. They follow a completely different cultivation system."
One of the three ordinary Spirit Masters, Gulan, speaks hesitantly, "A new cultivation path...?"
Muije frowns. "A new path—but we've heard nothing about it. No word, no rumours."
Brurc adds, "Then why attack us? What do they gain?"
Kuro, standing nearby, growls, "Yeah! Is this their way of proving their system is superior?"
Merin shakes his head. "No. This isn't new."
The group goes silent, eyes locked on him.
Asuna tilts her head. "What do you mean?"
Merin's gaze hardens. "It may be unknown to us, but their cultivation system isn't recent. Their runes, their formations—they're too advanced. We still don't have formations capable of sealing or weakening a peak Spiritual Master. But they do."
Asuna nods slowly. "Then where have they been hiding all this time?"
"We'll find out," Merin says, his tone final, "once those twelve bring us this Taiga."
Everyone nods, tension settling into grim resolve.
"Let's head inside," Merin adds.
As they turn toward the city, Zhen Qi steps forward, gesturing to the remaining subdued enemies. "What about them?"
"Imprison them," Merin says without looking back. "Hand them over to the council."
Zhen Qi bows slightly. "Understood."
The group begins walking, the crowd parting in reverent silence before erupting into cheers.
"Dragon Master!" they chant. "Kanoru!"
As he walks at the centre, surrounded by his family, his name echoing like thunder through the city, Merin lifts a hand and smiles at the crowd.
This city—his city—built by those he loves, has stood for over fifteen years, and yet this is the first time he's set foot within its walls, the first time he's defended it with his own strength.
And now, as he feels the joy and devotion in every cheer, every grateful gaze, a deep sense of belonging takes root in his heart—this city is not just his creation, it is his home.
When they finally pass through the estate gates, the roar of celebration fades behind walls that now shelter more than people—they shelter legacy, purpose, and hope.
That night, Merin rests between his partners.
And by dawn, the news of the Dragon Master's return spreads like wildfire across the region.