Under the light of the crimson moon in the night sky, a black spot streaks over the water. It vanishes from one place and reappears in the next—its speed defying the laws of distance, as if teleporting across the ocean's surface.
Inside the ship, on the open deck, Kanoru sits cross-legged, motionless beneath the faint glow of the moon. In both palms, grey wind and grey water elemental energies swirl quietly, reflecting the flicker of that bloody moonlight.
He's simulating the elemental makeup of Wind Chimes alien energy—trying to force the fusion of water and wind through the prism of grey energy. Again and again, he combines and reshapes, only for the energy to unravel or collapse back into unbalanced chaos. It doesn't work. Not with grey water. Not with the current approach.
He exhales and slows everything down.
"The main trait," he mutters to himself, "is vibration. Control through vibration."
That's what Wind Chimes is. Water's grace moved by rhythm, not force.
He cancels the grey water elemental energy in his left hand, allowing it to fade completely. Wind remains in his right hand, steady and quiet. Wind, by its very nature, already holds the essence of vibration.
So Kanoru turns inward—concentrating. He peers deep into the grey wind elemental energy, into every swirling particle, and finds what he's looking for.
Vibration.
Each particle hums, each at a slightly different pitch, a chaotic orchestra without rhythm. He focuses, pushing deeper into the energy's structure, and starts forcing the particles to match their frequencies. One by one. Then two. Then ten.
Time slips by.
Three hours pass in relentless silence.
His spiritual energy burns at a slow, constant rate as he labors to force harmony into the chaos.
And then—stillness.
He opens his eyes. The grey wind elemental energy above his right palm is silent and compressed. Every particle in resonance. Every frequency tuned to the same hum.
He raises his right hand and focuses, compressing the energy further, tighter—until it contracts into a single pinprick of concentrated grey light at the tip of his finger.
Then he releases it.
A grey ray fires upward, silent and smooth. It pierces the clouds above like a divine thread pulling heaven and earth together, cutting through the sky like a blade of harmony.
Far away, above the Sacred Continent, Rosie narrows her eyes.
She's mid-air, clashing with Hayate and his phantasm, the Storm Flying Lizard, as well as Wen Qiang, whose crimson saber cuts in from the side. The winds scream. The lizard's tail lashes out, and lightning arcs through the sky. Still, Rosie's attention is momentarily stolen.
Her eyes flicker toward the source of the grey ray.
Grey energy. The same color as her own.
That alone wouldn't warrant her pause—but this one feels different. She sidesteps a strike from Wen Qiang and blocks a bolt of lightning with a pulse of her energy, even as her focus latches onto the nature of the ray she just saw.
She knows grey energy better than anyone in the Nightmare World. Her own grey energy is derived directly from the Law of Annihilation—a power she began to comprehend after discovering a shattered stone tablet buried deep beneath one of the countless ruins left behind by the Grey King. The power she wields is brutal, absolute. A force of ceasing, of undoing. The pure essence of annihilation.
But that grey ray…
Her brows knit together. In that moment before it vanishes, she locks her senses onto it—filters the signature through layers of analysis honed over years of cultivation.
It carries something she can't deny.
Annihilation.
Not derived from a diluted comprehension. Not echoing her own law-based grey energy. But something close. Something terrifyingly parallel.
She knows what that means.
Impossible.
This world—this inferior realm they're in—should not allow the presence of any law. That's the defining limitation. Inferior worlds lack the essence of law entirely. Low-level worlds can hold a single law, maybe two. Mid-level worlds, ten or more. High-level, a hundred and beyond. And the Nightmare World? A thousand and counting, each layer more complex than the last.
But this world? There should be no trace of law. No foundation for a cultivator to comprehend one.
And yet, here it is. A grey ray with the flavor of annihilation.
She deflects a wind blade from Hayate, then flashes backward, maintaining distance. Her mind whirls even as her body acts on instinct.
That energy wasn't like hers. It didn't come from the Law of Annihilation. But it echoed it. Reflected it. Like someone fumbling toward the concept… but not through inheritance. Through instinct. Through sheer will and comprehension. As if… someone was reconstructing the path from scratch.
Her eyes narrow, lips parting in the faintest grin.
"Interesting," she whispers.
Then she throws herself back into the fight—but now, her mind burns with a single thought:
All laws are interconnected.
Mastery in one could serve as a bridge to another. It wasn't theory—it was truth, carved into the foundations of countless higher realms. Comprehend the Law of Sound deeply enough, and the Laws of Vibration and Wind open in response. Comprehend the Laws of Killing, Poison, and Curse, and the Law of Death waits just beyond their threshold—or the other way around. The deeper one digs, the more these lines blur, the more the branches converge.
And that grey ray—
It reeked of convergence.
Rosie hadn't been mistaken. It wasn't pure Annihilation Law like hers, but it carried its scent—its shadow. It was raw, unrefined, a newborn force formed from the annihilation of wind, fire, and water elemental energy. Someone had grasped the destructive aspect of all three and stitched them into something dangerously close to the real thing.
Her heart thuds once.
Not in fear. In ambition.
This world… it had always been a target. An inferior world that didn't contain even a single law, but that was precisely what made it important. The Nightmare Will had marked it for conquest. Whoever dominated it would receive its blessing. And with that blessing, Rosie would be able to elevate her grey energy's tier from four to five.
That wasn't the end.
Once it reached tier five, she could fuse it with the annihilation law fragments she obtained from the Grey King's inheritance. Tier six—divine energy—would be within reach. Energy capable of shaping worlds. Energy worthy of her ambitions.
And with divine energy…
Her eyes flash as she dodges a blast from the Storm Flying Lizard and drives a black thorn of energy into the beast's side.
Her odds of advancing to Tier-3—becoming a Nightmare Baron—would jump by fifty percent.
A moment ago, while sensing the elemental structure within the grey ray, her mind sparked with another idea.
What if… she could derive the annihilation aspects from this world's elemental energies herself?
If she could isolate and comprehend the destructive principles buried within each element, just like whoever unleashed that grey ray, she might raise her energy tier to five without needing the Nightmare Will's blessing.
Tier five… through her own effort.
Then the blessing from conquering this world would push her toward divine energy. And once she reached that state, she wouldn't need to fuse the law fragments from the Grey King's inheritance immediately. She could use them after—strengthen her divine energy further—refine her understanding of annihilation until her power sang with purity.
Even if the path didn't lead her directly to divine energy, even if she failed to fully transform her current energy, every step would matter. Even a slight increase in comprehension would boost her chances at breaking into Tier-3.
The thought makes her fingers twitch, dark energy crackling between them.
I need to start. Now.
Her impatience rises. The phantasm lizard lashes out, but she sidesteps without a glance, her mind already retreating inward. She no longer sees Hayate. She no longer sees Wen Qiang.
All she sees is the path.
With a single wave of her arm, thorns erupt in every direction. In one brutal motion, she forces the fight to its end, repelling her opponents and giving herself the time she needs.
She hovers in the air, breathing slowly, eyes closing.
"If the annihilation aspect exists in fire, wind, and water…" she murmurs, "then it must be buried in the other six."
And if she wants to push her energy tier to five—truly push it—then three elements won't be enough.
"No," she whispers. "I'll need all nine."
In the Nightmare World, the nine elemental energies exist in their complete forms—each one tied to its respective elemental law. But here, in this inferior world, only fragments remain. Shattered reflections of the true rules. Yet right now, this place offers her the best chance.
Better here than there.
If she returned to the Nightmare World, she'd have only two months to reach tier one in all nine elements. And without completing that step, the path to Tier-3—to becoming a Nightmare Baron—would close. Worse, without her presence, the invasion might even collapse, and she would lose the Nightmare Will's blessing. That risk alone makes the choice clear.
Here, in this slower-flowing world, she has time—more than fifty years. The time difference between the worlds grants her a luxury she would never have again. And with that time, she could do what would be impossible in the Nightmare World.
Her eyes sharpen with intent.
I need to end this fight… now.
But killing these three wasn't easy. Not here. Her strength is still suppressed. Every clash consumes her energy, and the longer it goes, the harder it'll become to land the killing blow.
A truce. That's the only path forward.
She clenches her fists as another thought slips through—the future. The invasion of the Middle World… it will be more than a thousand times more brutal than this.
Her army would need to evolve. Fast. And this battlefield—this low-tier war—was an excellent training ground. If she could make these three her temporary allies, they could help strengthen her army while she deepened her control over the elemental energies.
Without another word, Rosie's body erupts in grey light. A controlled explosion of annihilation energy surges outward in a violent pulse. Wind howls and stone cracks beneath the wave.
Hayate, Wen Qiang, and the Storm Phantasm Lizard are thrown back, forced to shield their vital points. The pressure in the air shifts—heavy, sharp, decisive.
She floats in place, arms outstretched, her presence looming over them like a verdict.
Before the three can react, she speaks—voice firm but calm, "Wait."
Hayate halts mid-step, Wen Qiang's eyes narrow, and the phantasm lizard lets out a low rumble. All three exchange brief glances, confusion flickering in their expressions. She had the advantage. Why stop now?
Rosie doesn't wait for their questions. She lifts her head, voice ringing through the battlefield.
"Everyone, stop!"
Her command cuts through the chaos like a whip. Instantly, the other two battles halt. In a moment, the remaining invaders—Zilian and the Clown—rise into the sky and hover beside her. The cultivators from this world do the same, eyes wary, weapons still drawn.
A man with short black hair, blood on his sleeves, steps forward. "What do you want, invaders?" he growls, breathing hard.
Rosie's expression remains calm as her voice carries across the sky. "You six can understand what's happening. We cannot kill you—yet. And you cannot kill us."
The air hangs heavy in silence. None of the defenders deny it. They've already seen the invaders rise again and again, power unstable but terrifying.
The jade-colored serpent hisses, coils rising to eye-level with Rosie. "Then what do you want?" it says, voice cold. "We are not surrendering."
The other five nod, faces stern, unyielding.
Rosie chuckles softly, not out of mockery, but amusement. "Surrender would be ideal," she admits, "but unnecessary. The truth is—we keep fighting like this, and nothing will change. The war drags on, neither side falls, and both sides lose."
She pauses, her smile growing sharper.
"So I offer an alternative. Let the outcome of your world… be decided by the cultivators of the lower realms."
Silence.
Not confusion—but shock. Eyes flick toward each other, toward her, toward the ground where armies had once clashed.
"You're proposing…" Hayate begins, suspicion in his tone.