Two days later, in a hidden valley, Frasser suddenly collapses from the sky beside Xingli.
His body is covered in wounds.
His aura is faint.
So faint that it seems it could extinguish at any moment.
Xingli immediately kneels beside him.
Without hesitation, she channels her Qi into his body to stabilise his injuries.
Her expression is tense.
Two days ago, Frasser took her away from the convoy.
For a day, they travelled without incident.
Then they were attacked.
Great Elder Shi Ming appeared.
A battle broke out between the two.
Frasser fought fiercely, but he had not fully recovered from his previous injuries.
With Xingli beside him, he could not fight freely.
To escape, he used a forbidden method.
They managed to flee.
But the cost was severe.
Now his body has reached its limit.
Frasser coughs violently.
Blood spills from his mouth.
His eyes slowly open.
With Xingli's support, he sits upright.
His breathing remains unstable.
From his spirit space, he retrieves a small bronze bell.
He places it in Xingli's hands.
"Activate it," he says.
Xingli nods.
She channels her energy into the bell.
Silver runes appear across its surface.
They glow faintly.
The bell rings.
Once.
Then a second time.
A field spreads outward from it, enveloping the valley.
Frasser exhales slowly.
"For a few days," he says, "the Purple Lotus Sect will not be able to find us."
Xingli steps back slightly.
Frasser adjusts his posture and sits more comfortably.
He looks at her.
There is a trace of pity in his gaze.
"I do not have much time left," he says calmly.
"In the next few days, I will teach you my Star Spirit Technique."
Xingli's expression falls.
A heaviness fills her chest.
She has not known Frasser long.
Yet in this short time, he has treated her with genuine care.
Hearing of his impending death affects her more than she expected.
Frasser's voice becomes firm.
"Pay attention."
He begins teaching.
Step by step.
Explaining the foundation of his technique.
The structure of star energy.
The method of refining it.
The way to connect spirit with the stars.
Xingli listens carefully.
She does not waste a single moment.
Time passes quickly.
Three days later, far away from the hidden valley, Merin and his army arrive at the lake.
From a distance, the city stands at its centre.
As they approach, the walls of the city come into view.
They are already filled with people.
The moment Merin appears, cheers erupt.
Voices rise together.
Excitement spreads across the crowd.
Merin leads the army forward.
They cross the long bridge over the lake.
Then enter the city.
As they move through the main streets, people line both sides.
On the ground.
On the upper floors.
Even on rooftops.
Flowers are thrown into the air.
They fall like rain over the soldiers.
The entire city celebrates.
From the upper floor of a restaurant, nobles from Wein Province observe silently.
Their expressions are solemn.
Their eyes remain fixed on Merin and the army behind him.
The aura of the army unsettles them.
This is no ordinary force.
It carries the presence of something greater.
Something that could become legendary.
Among the observers, members of the Song Royal Family watch quietly.
Their expressions are equally serious.
Merin has married their princess.
Yet the marriage remains incomplete.
There was no wedding night.
No final union.
For them, only one conclusion remains.
A heavenly marriage contract has been signed.
That alone binds Xingli to him.
Merin continues forward.
He leads the army to the large residence at the centre of the city.
At the entrance, he dismounts.
He parts from the army.
"Ziqi," he says, "handle the rest."
Ziqi bows.
"Yes, my lord."
Merin walks inside.
Servants approach immediately.
But he waves them away.
Without another word, he heads toward his room.
The night passes quietly.
The next morning, Merin steps out.
Today, the ceremony to establish the city will be held.
He walks to the dining room.
Sits.
Drinks tea.
Eats lightly.
The atmosphere is calm.
A servant approaches and bows.
"My lord, three people have come to meet you."
Merin glances at her.
"You did not inform them that I am not meeting anyone?"
The servant lowers her head.
"My lord, two of them are Sublimation Realm cultivators."
"They appear to be attendants of the younger man."
"The young man says he is from the Totem Palace."
Merin becomes still for a moment.
Then he nods slightly.
"Take them to the living room."
He lifts his cup again.
And continues drinking his tea.
A short while later, Merin walks into the living room.
Inside, a young man sits comfortably, while two older men stand behind him like guards.
The moment Merin enters, the young man looks up.
His gaze carries arrogance.
"You may be a marquis in the Song Kingdom," he says, "but here, you are nothing."
Merin smiles faintly at the provocation.
He shows no reaction.
He walks forward and takes a seat opposite the young man.
Leaning back slightly, he speaks calmly.
"You seem to know me well."
"But I know nothing about you."
The young man lifts his chin slightly.
"I am Darus," he says.
"From Crimson Mountain Peak."
"My grandfather is the Great Elder of Crimson Mountain Peak… and also of the Totem Palace."
Merin hears this and notes the information silently.
His expression remains indifferent.
"Isn't Crimson Mountain Peak a part of the Totem Palace?" he asks.
Darus chuckles.
"They wish to be."
Merin nods slightly.
He now stands within the Maggon Mountains.
If he intends to establish himself here, he must understand the forces that rule this region.
The Totem Palace is clearly one of them.
And the young man before him may become a useful connection.
If his city is to survive until he reaches the Saint Stage, he will need to navigate these powers carefully.
Merin shifts the conversation.
"You have come here," he says, "why not stay and watch the ceremony?"
Darus's expression turns slightly impatient.
"I did not come for your ceremony."
Merin remains calm.
"But now is an auspicious time," he replies.
"I cannot entertain you further."
Darus's eyes flare with anger.
Behind him, the two guards release their auras.
The pressure of the Sublimation Stage spreads through the room.
In response, Merin's field expands instantly.
It presses down upon them.
The two guards stiffen.
Their auras are suppressed completely.
Merin does not even look at them.
He rises from his seat and walks toward the door.
At the doorway, he retracts his field.
Then he turns his head slightly.
"I will be waiting for you at the ceremony."
With that, he leaves.
His actions are deliberate.
He does not treat Darus as an equal.
Nor as a superior.
He positions himself above him, like an elder.
Not someone to be commanded.
But someone who sets the pace.
Merin rises into the sky above the city centre.
Below him stand the nine totems, arranged in a wide circle.
Around them, the entire city gathers.
People fill every street, every balcony, every rooftop.
All eyes are lifted toward the sky.
Darus stands among the crowd with his two guards.
His gaze fixes on the totems, then shifts to Merin.
"What is he planning to do with the totems?" he asks.
The two guards remain silent.
Darus frowns slightly, then continues, his tone lowering.
"If he destroys them… Titus will no longer be able to protect him."
Still, the guards give no response.
Above, Merin surveys the scene once.
Then he moves.
His Virtual Field spreads outward.
It descends over the nine totems like an invisible sky.
The pressure builds.
Then, with a slight exertion of force,
The totems shatter.
Not explosively.
But completely.
Their forms collapse into countless particles.
Fragments of matter.
Fragments of law.
Fragments of spirituality.
They scatter briefly, but do not disperse.
Merin's field tightens.
The particles stop midair.
He gathers them.
Draws them inward.
The fragments begin to converge.
Law pieces align.
Spiritual essence condenses.
Energy threads weave together.
Slowly, a shape begins to form.
A dragon.
Its structure resembles Merin's Virtual Dragon.
But this one is different.
He takes the fragments of the nine totems' laws.
And integrates them.
One by one.
He binds them together with his own Virtual Dragon Law.
Stabilising.
Connecting.
Refining.
Then he injects the remaining spirituality into the forming body.
The dragon solidifies.
Its presence becomes real.
Heavy.
Ancient.
Alive.
Merin withdraws from his field.
The moment the restraint lifts,
A vast pressure spreads across the city.
A roar erupts.
It shakes the air.
It echoes across the lake.
The newly formed totem dragon opens its eyes.
Below, the crowd freezes.
Darus stares upward, his expression changing completely.
Shock floods his face.
"What… am I seeing?"