On a mountain not far from the Demon Capital, over thirty figures hurried along, some wounded. "Princess, there's a cave ahead. Let's hide," Meilina's personal guard said, supporting her toward it. Thankfully, the cave was dry, untouched by beasts. Except for sentries, the group collapsed, gasping for breath.
Meilina hadn't expected that man to injure her with pure martial skill. Recalling the fight, he seemed to know she'd strike when he targeted another. She was his real target, and she fell for it, too late to counter, getting hit. Healing magic eased her wounds, but her chest still ached. Spitting that much blood meant days in bed. I won't let you off, Makino Feitian, she thought bitterly.
"Princess, what now?" a maid asked. "They're hunting us. We rest, then head to Wudu," Meilina said, gritting her teeth. "But that's their palace! Isn't that walking into a trap?" another maid questioned.
"No worries. The most dangerous place is the safest. He'd never guess we'd go under his nose," Meilina analyzed.
It was their fourth day on the run. Checkpoints swarmed with soldiers, especially restricting demons to confined zones. "Princess, do we enter the city?" "Of course, but carefully. Wait till dusk, use cloaking to slip in. Now, their experts might spot us," Meilina said, her sharp mind accounting for every detail.
Demon Realm Palace: "Your Majesty, word from the human realm: Princess Meilina's assassination of Makino Feitian failed. She's now hunted," a subordinate reported. The demon king waved irritably. "Tell them, fail and don't come back." Meilina always reminded him of her mother, his favorite consort, whose death left him without a confidante. She thought she could assassinate him? If it were that easy, Trank would've done it. Whatever, better deal with the god clan's nonsense.
Human Realm: "Your Majesty, we've searched everywhere around—no trace," Wenbo reported, ashamed. "No surprise. Their cloaking skills aside, you're either flying or using satellites. If they're in a cave, you'd miss them. My guess: they're nearby or headed to Wudu. Ramp up efforts there," I ordered.
"Oh, and if there's no sign in three days, drop it. Order inns to tighten searches. They evaded us this long post-demon retreat—they've got tricks we don't know."
As long as I'm alive, they'll come for me. Their mission's to kill me—they won't return to the demon realm until they succeed.
This assassination exposed a flaw: though my transformed power's stronger, magic and martial arts don't mesh. It slows me down in fights. How to fuse them? I scoured Flying Dragon Star's ancient texts, but while they note the issue, there's no solution. No one here's reached magic-martial unity. With the focus on external techniques, it's a pipe dream. History's full of dual cultivators, all failures. To crack this, I need to tap human potential at its core.
Do it now—that's my rule. My upper dantian holds mental energy; lower dantian, true qi. I focused, trying to circulate both, but only one would move at a time. Was it because I can't multitask? Like a single-handed painter can't draw with both hands—it takes practice. Realizing this, I tried running true qi and mental energy simultaneously.
Through inner vision, I saw mental energy concentrated in the brain's nerves, while true qi flowed through meridians. They seemed unrelated. I ran true qi, mapping its major and minor meridians, then mental energy, tracing the complex neural network. Hard work paid off—I found their common point: the Baihui acupoint, the body's vital gate, commanding all. How'd I miss this?
With my strong mental focus, multitasking was doable, just unpracticed. I diligently ran both forces. They stirred—my excitement broke the flow. After who-knows-how-long, they finally moved together. But oddly, they stayed separate, even at Baihui, like a barrier kept them apart. Inner vision, like a microscope, revealed every vessel and organ clearly. Between them was a faint yellow glow.
I sent a strand of true qi to pierce the membrane. Damn, it hurt! As I nearly gave up, the qi breached, entering mental energy's domain, flowing freely. After the pain, a cool rush washed over me, head to toe. Success? Inner vision showed a tiny hole where qi entered, vanishing as mental energy surged stronger. If qi could join mental energy, could mental energy join qi? I forgot myself, treating it like an experiment, ignoring the risk of becoming a vegetable—or worse, dying.
As mental energy entered qi through the hole, qi welcomed it like a gracious host. No pain this time. If small amounts worked, why not larger? After three agonizing tries, qi and mental energy fused like water and milk, intermingling perfectly. I roared in bliss.
Outside, sisters Oumei and Oula heard, bursting in. Seeing me—shirtless, in just underwear, muscles writhing like crawling bugs, even on my face, clutching my head in "agony"—they screamed. I was in ecstasy, oblivious.
My wives rushed in. Cohen arrived from Yanhuang Star with medical experts.
Lost in bliss, I blacked out. My muscles shrank yet radiated explosive power, a bizarre contrast. Xue'er nearly collapsed, steadied by a maid. "Brother Tian'll be fine. I can't break—I'll save him," she told herself.
"Brother Tian, what's wrong? Talk to me! It's your Little Kitty!" Little Kitty sobbed, clinging to me. Except for Xue'er and Shasha, who stayed composed, my wives, overwhelmed by the sudden crisis, wailed. The palace sank into grief.
"Empress, let the consorts rest. We'll examine him," Cohen told Xue'er. The palace had emergency gear. Experts scanned me. "Empress, Dean, His Majesty's vitality is astounding, but his muscles are shrinking. His brain activity mimics a vegetative state. We can't diagnose this," an expert said, head bowed.
Silence fell. Xue'er paused, then asked, "Did you try the Life Technique? Doesn't it revive anyone not fully dead?" "We're sorry—three senior priests cast it, but it's like it was absorbed, no effect," they replied. Devastation hit harder.
"Wait, what was that last bit?" Cohen pressed. "Like it was absorbed, no effect," the expert repeated. "Absorbed… could it be?" Cohen muttered, recalling something from human potential experiments. He couldn't pinpoint it but knew what to do. "Summon the dragon clan elders to the palace—I've got a plan."
Hope surged like a lifeline. "Don't get too hopeful. I need to test this," Cohen cautioned. A small Flying Dragon warship landed in the palace square, soldiers unloading heaps of high-energy crystals. What the—enough for an interstellar war? "Is the Grand Elder here?" Xue'er asked, wiping sweat from me and Kapo. "Hurry, Kapo's fading!" Kapo gripped a high-energy crystal, absorbing its energy, channeling it into me with her other hand. My body was a bottomless pit—this was her third crystal. Crystals restore stamina, not mental magic, which requires mental energy to absorb, as magic gathers spatial elements via the mind.
Frantic footsteps echoed. Who'd dare storm the palace? The dragon clan Grand Elder and four others rushed in, faces tense. Kapo relaxed, stopping. Without a word, each elder took a brick-sized high-energy crystal, mimicking Kapo—one hand on the crystal, the other on my key acupoints. They absorbed energy mentally, channeling it into me via internal martial arts. Vast energy flooded my body.
The surface writhing stopped. My shrinking muscles stabilized, hinting at recovery.
For three days, the dragon clan sent every internal-martial expert to Wudu, relaying energy into me. Elders meditated in the room, recovering magic.
Xue'er and the wives, eyes red, watched me, still vegetative, on the bed. With me ill, policy made Xue'er regent. Honestly, it's no big deal—mostly big foreign policy calls, with specialists handling the rest. Good thing I set solid policies, or my wives would be swamped.
I seemed awake, yet not. I was in a strange place—beautiful mountains, rushing rivers, like a movie playing before me. Where was I? A dream? But it felt too lucid, unlike any dream. I watched scenes pass like a lone moviegoer. No fear, no thoughts, just images.
Then I was on an unknown planet, filled with… dragons, like Flying Dragon Star's, transforming like Chinese dragons. Varied colors, shapes—some frolicked in the sky, others basked lazily, so serene. More dragons flew in, like Flying Dragon Star's, some with single forehead horns. My god, a dragon world. I watched from above, reaching to touch a passing dragon, but my hand grasped nothing, weak.
Suddenly, countless monsters appeared—airborne, terrestrial. Some half-human, some with human heads on beast bodies. A nine-headed snake, twice a dragon's size, its heads spewing fire, hail, lightning. Where was this? My head spun. That snake—some ancestor of Japan's great god, with extra heads blasting fire and mist?