Nyxarin sits upon his throne, one leg resting casually over the other, his fingers tapping lightly against the armrest as Puppet Eyes project the battlefield into the air before him.
The image trembles with distorted light as Dark Starfall descends, tearing through clouds and bending heaven and earth.
Around Nyxarin stand the core members of the Divine Puppet Sect and his most loyal demons, none daring to speak loudly, all watching in silence, broken only by suppressed breaths.
One elder from the Divine Puppet Sect whispers, his voice barely steady, "He is close… close to advancing to the Divine Mind Realm…"
Another follows, eyes burning with unease, "This killing game… it may become his opportunity to step through the final threshold…"
A demon fox with snow-white fur and crimson pupils narrows his eyes, his tail swaying slowly.
"And if he succeeds… the Wizard Way will truly dominate the human race…"
His gaze sharpens as he studies Kaelan's figure inside the collapsing battlefield.
"The twenty Divine Mind cultivators cannot even display their full strength," he murmurs, "yet Kong Wuya, not even at that realm, displays the power of a veteran Divine Mind cultivator…"
He pauses, watching the Wizard Towers flare.
"With those towers supporting him… his strength rises even further…"
The fox's expression darkens.
"It is as if… he prepared for this moment…"
A demon beast from the Purple-Eyed Owl Clan turns his head sharply.
"What do you mean…?"
The fox speaks slowly, choosing each word carefully.
"Kong Wuya knew the human sects' Divine Mind cultivators would come for him… this battlefield, the towers, the timing… none of it is a coincidence…"
Shock ripples through the hall.
Whispers explode.
Impossible…
How could he know…?
Who warned him…?
One voice cuts through them all, directed toward the throne.
"Lord… letting Kong Wuya live is far too dangerous for us…"
Nyxarin smiles.
It is thin, controlled, and utterly calm.
"Do not worry," he says softly.
"I prepared a surprise for him long ago…"
He lifts his hand and flicks his fingers.
The projection shifts.
The battlefield vanishes.
A new image fills the air.
A vast underground ruin city emerges, ancient stone walls etched with forgotten scripts, massive caverns illuminated by cold artificial light.
Within it, a battle rages.
Humans clash against puppets forged of wood, metal, and stitched flesh, their joints clattering, their eyes glowing faintly.
And the humans are winning.
Bodies of shattered puppets litter the ground.
Formation lines collapse one after another.
All eyes turn instinctively toward a single man among the Divine Puppet Sect.
His entire body, save for his face, has been replaced with refined spiritual materials, joints humming softly with restrained power.
Under Nyxarin's gaze, his knees slam into the floor.
His forehead strikes stone.
He grovels, voice shaking.
"My Lord… forgive me… I failed to anticipate this…"
He trembles harder.
"Two individuals… with insufficient spiritual energy… broke through to the Earthly Official Realm…"
The hall goes silent.
Nyxarin leans forward slightly.
His eyes narrow as he studies the projection.
Two men stand amid the ruin.
Their bodies glow with white light, forming a natural armour that repels blades and shatters puppet limbs as they advance relentlessly.
They move with crude efficiency, every strike fatal, every step decisive.
Nyxarin's fingers stop tapping.
His expression shifts.
Recognition flickers.
A strange familiarity stirs in his soul, cold and sharp, like looking into a distorted reflection.
His gaze locks onto one of the men.
For a long moment, he says nothing.
Then, softly, almost to himself—
"Who are they…?"
The kneeling man answers quickly, fear tightening his voice, "Lord… the man wearing the wizard-style black robe is called Lin Zian… he was Li Xueyao's bodyguard… and the one in Tianren Sect white robes is Minyu… from Purifying Lotus Mountain…"
Nyxarin's gaze never leaves Minyu.
If he himself is darkness, then Minyu is light.
Cold moonlight that cuts through the night, not warm, not gentle, but absolute.
A perfect counter.
His other half.
Nyxarin feels delight bloom in his chest.
Today truly is a good day.
Yesterday, his understanding of the Law of Puppet took another step forward, so even watching part of his plan collapse does not anger him.
He speaks calmly, "Zhou… sit back down… you will receive your punishment later…"
The kneeling man freezes, then bows deeply again, relief flooding his expression as he retreats.
Finding the other half of his soul, all anger drains from Nyxarin's heart.
At that moment, Nyxarin senses something else.
The rules of the world tremble.
His eyes sharpen.
The projection shifts abruptly.
The battlefield reappears.
The dark meteor collapses inward, sucking everything toward itself.
Then—
It explodes.
The image vanishes in violent distortion.
Several breaths later, the projection reforms, now showing the battlefield from afar, a vast dust cloud boiling upward like a living thing.
The Puppet Eye moves.
The image draws closer as minutes pass and the dust storm slowly settles.
What remains is a massive crater, carved deep into the earth.
The vision shifts from human sight to energy perception.
Ripples of broken law pulse faintly through the space.
Life signatures appear.
Few.
Scattered.
Then the focus tightens.
One signature stands alone at a distance.
The dust erupts.
From within, Kong Wuya rises, still encased in his Holy Spirit form, battered yet unbroken.
A demon beast blurts out, "He is a demon!"
Nyxarin answers calmly, "A hybrid… of human and crow demon…"
At that moment, a message reaches him.
"Creator… the Twilight Dogs have left their sky island…"
Nyxarin's smile widens.
His figure dissolves silently, vanishing from the hall.
—
Kaelan lands heavily on shattered ground and straightens, inspecting his body.
Bones knit.
Organs stabilise.
Magic energy continues to flow from distant towers, though weaker now.
Then he feels it.
Violent fluctuations ripple through the rules of the world.
The sky darkens unnaturally.
A vast curtain of shadow spreads overhead.
Across the horizon, pillars of purple light rise one after another, piercing heaven and earth alike.
Kaelan frowns.
Something has changed.
Before he can process it fully, movement stirs within the crater.
Six figures climb out from the devastation.
Divine Mind Realm cultivators.
But incomplete.
One is missing an arm.
Another drags half a shattered torso.
A third has lost both legs and floats unsteadily on trembling energy.
They look at Kaelan with naked fear.
Hatred mixes with terror.
One of them screams hoarsely, "Demon… you will not get away with this…"
Kaelan snorts coldly.
"Before threatening me," he says calmly, "look at your situation."
The wind howls through the ruined battlefield.
The war is far from over.
A laugh cuts through the air.
Kaelan turns his head and sees seven Divine Mind Realm cultivators appear in the sky.
The one at the front smiles lightly and says, "Cousin Anlan, how did your situation become like this?"
Kaelan's gaze shifts toward Ren Anlan, the sect master of Tianren Sect.
Then his eyes move to the newcomer.
Ren Qing.
The king of the Ren Kingdom.
Kaelan's Holy Spirit dissolves, and his figure returns to human form.
"A family meeting is about to take place," Kaelan says calmly, "then I shall take my leave."
Ren Qing looks down at him, his eyes cold.
"Master Kong," he says, "I am very sorry, but you cannot leave."
He pauses briefly.
"As you are a demon, we are responsible for exorcising you."
Another pause.
"Sorry," Ren Qing adds flatly, "we are going to kill you."
He turns his head toward the surviving Divine Mind cultivators from the sects.
"You too."
Ren Anlan roars, rage and disbelief mixing in his voice, "Ren Qing, do you know what you are doing?"
Ren Qing answers calmly, "I know exactly what I am doing."
"You Qi Refining sects have become leeches on my kingdom."
"So you all need to die."
He waves his hand.
Three of his men immediately attack the wounded sect cultivators below.
The remaining four turn their attention toward Kaelan.
Kaelan looks at Ren Qing and asks, "Are you sure you want to become my enemy?"
Ren Qing replies without hesitation, "I want to honour my ancestor and restore the Ren Kingdom into the Ren Dynasty."
"For that to happen," he continues, "you must be removed."
Kaelan nods slowly.
"Different positions cannot coexist," he says evenly.
"I understand."
"So I decide not to kill you."
The four Divine Mind cultivators freeze.
Ren Qing bursts into laughter.
"Trying to intimidate me?" he says mockingly.
"I can sense it clearly."
"You have exhausted your energy," he continues, eyes narrowing, "and the Wizard Towers have stopped sending you power."
His smile falters.
Everyone feels it.
A new presence.
Then another.
Then a third.
They look up.
From three different directions, three flying ships break through the clouds and descend toward the battlefield.
Each radiates a familiar aura.
Kaelan smiles faintly.
The battle has always been part of his plan.
He prepared for every outcome.
And now, his three clones arrive aboard their natal flying ships, sealing the battlefield once more.