Mirror Dream Tree V.2.58. New Era

Axerus rises from the cracked earth where his seal once bound him.

His horns gleam under the shifting sky—eyes scanning a world unfamiliar.

A few hours ago, his mind brimd with vengeance.

For the 12,597th ti, he plotted their deaths.

Those who sealed him.

He sensed the weakening of the seal.

Then nothing—just freedom.

He assud it was his followers.

Or perhaps a fool seeking power.

He prepared to grant them a glorious death.

But no one ca.

No worship.

No offering.

No enemy.

Only silence.

He stands on a trembling plain, windless yet uneasy.

Around him, chaos brews.

Beasts writhe on the ground.

Their bodies mutate—fur falling in patches, bones reshaping into humanoid forms.

Runes appear on skin.

Their auras swell—power rising beyond their comprehension.

A lizard roars as wings sprout.

Its tail grows longer, neck stretches outward—twisting into sothing between beast and myth.

"A flying lizard?" Axerus mutters.

But no—sothing else.

He watches, stunned.

Then he counts on his fingers.

"Four hundred... ninety-eight years," he says.

Almost five centuries.

His eyes narrow.

"What happened to the world?"

He takes a breath—and nearly stumbles.

The world presses down on him.

The suppression thickens.

Even he—a sealed ancient—feels it growing stronger by the second.

Which ans only one thing:

The world is evolving.

Changing.

Becoming harder.

Denser.

More real.

A low-level world—now rising beyond what it was when he ruled.

And this change...

It may be greater than the very leap he once sought—

From ArchDuke to Demon God.

He clenches his fists.

Realisation dawns.

If the world continues like this—

He may never beco a Demon God here.

That truth weighs on him heavily than the seal ever did.

So he walks—aimlessly at first.

Mountains, forests, plains.

Beasts howl.

Rivers steam.

The world groans under transformation.

For a week, he moves without a destination.

But with each step, he watches.

He listens.

He feels.

The world’s laws—once veiled—now lie bare, whispering their truths.

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He comprehends slowly.

Not the full truth, but pieces.

Enough to begin again.

Then, just as quietly as it began, the change subsides.

The laws retreat.

Hidden once more.

The world stabilises, but stronger than before.

So is he.

His strength returns—no longer sealed.

A Demon Count once more.

But he no longer feels dominant.

On a distant mountain—at the centre of the world—he senses it:

A vast aura.

Massive.

Ancient.

Complete.

It doesn’t clash with the world.

It is the world.

It blends, breathes, exists as naturally as the sky.

Whoever that being is—he knows—he is no match.

Not yet.

So he weighs his path.

Return to the Demon World?

Travel the void, conquer a lesser plane?

Then he hears it.

A voice.

Calm.

Firm.

Not divine, not demonic—human.

But filled with clarity.

It explains the basic law of the new energy of this world.

And a cultivation thod for it.

Simple.

Crude.

But elegant.

Adaptable.

Enough for millions to follow.

His eyes narrow.

If this thod spreads…

A new age will rise.

Anna opens her confused eyes and looks around.

Her mother.

Her second mother.

Her sister.

Her grandparents—all slowly waking.

Uncle Vance, bloodied and groaning, stirs nearby.

She blinks, lost.

What happened?

She turns toward the mountain.

Thunder once struck there—struck her father.

But now the sky is silent.

Neither thunder nor father remains.

Then—she hears him.

Her father's voice.

She listens.

Follows.

From her body, a soft green energy rises.

It reaches out—ets the brilliant white energy of the world.

The two energies touch.

Hers dims slightly.

But the white energy glows brighter.

Her energy returns—stronger, purer.

Then again, the green energy flows out.

Again, it rges.

Again, it returns.

This cycle repeats.

Until her energy—now a bright, vibrant green—settles back into her body.

Her aura stabilises.

And then—light bursts.

Tiny white lights like fireflies stream from her.

They dance, drift.

Violet fireflies join them—coming from the world.

The two rge.

Swirl.

Glow.

And then—form.

A translucent dragon roars above her, runes etched across its shimring scales.

Anna closes her eyes and falls asleep.

Behind her, another form begins to take shape.

A two-winged, purple-haired wolf—its eyes closed, aura pulsing.

rin watches quietly.

Anne—his second daughter—has inherited the law of magic and his dragon form.

From her mother—the law of seal.

Allison—his first daughter—holds the law of magic, fragnts of lesser laws, and, from her mother, the law of werewolf form.

With his support, both daughters directly step into the initial rank of the Virtual Dharma realm.

Their mothers rise even higher—late Virtual Dharma realm.

With a wave of his hand, rin sends them back to the ho he built atop the mountain.

A sanctuary.

A beginning.

He gathers Evelyn’s parents and cousin, as well as his own parents and sister.

After his promotion, they will beco the most sought-after people in the world.

Because through them…

The world can reach him.

And now—everyone wants to.

From the farthest corners of the Origin World to the deepest pits of the Demon World—they all seek rin.

Because now, in this world, he is the law.

No force, no decision of consequence can move without brushing against his will.

He is the axis.

The keystone.

The first to approach are the Beast Apostles—the guardians of this world before his arrival.

They bow their heads, yet speak firmly.

They ask him—cleanse the world.

Drive out all remnants of demonic influence.

But rin listens in silence.

And then says—why should I?

This world is not his destination.

Only a step.

He plans to return to his main body.

The conflict they propose—against the Demon World—is not only unnecessary, it is unwise.

He explains his stance.

He can guard the Origin World from all beings below professional rank 15.

But the Demon World holds three beings above rank 20 .

If they co, he cannot stop them—not without risking total annihilation.

He rejects the Apostles' request.

Instead, he will speak to the demon churches.

The will of the world need not be broken.

It can be bent.

Like a vassal nation—paying a demon tithe yearly, yet left in peace.

The Apostles recoil at first.

But then they nod.

They understand.

Fighting the Demon World is a folly.

If peace can be achieved, they will accept it.

Next, he ets with the high-ranking mbers of the three demon churches.

They approach carefully.

He assures them—he is not an enemy.

He does not wish to fight the Demon World.

He proposes the vassalhood of the Origin World.

A formal tie, not rebellion.

They nod.

They will forward his ssage to the Demon World.

No answer now.

But they listen.

And that is enough.

Finally, rin sits with the leaders of the human race.

Their faces are grim.

Their numbers thinned.

Seventy per cent of their people—gone.

Yet—strength remains.

Perhaps more than ever.

Even without rin, humanity now holds more power than before.

He shares a secret.

The reason for the world’s promotion—the cause of the change.

The law of the Magic Dinsion.

It entered this world.

rged.

And transford everything.

He explains—if humanity wants to rise further, they must find more dinsions.

Bring their laws into the Origin World.

Fuse them.

Grow.

Adapt.

That is the path forward.

Not conquest.

Not retreat.

But expansion—through understanding.

Through laws.

After eting all factions, rin finally returns to himself.

He has reached the limit of this world.

The world may grow slowly, but for him to advance to rank 13, it would take a thousand years.

He could wait—his current lifespan is a thousand years or more with thods.

But it would be a waste.

He discards the idea of going to the Demon World.

Too dangerous.

Under the eyes of Demon Gods, he doesn't know if they’ll sense his secret.

The best option is to return to the Main World—and co back later, in a thousand years or whenever he desires.

But for that, he must leave a clone behind.

Creating a clone is simple.

Keeping it alive for a thousand years—not.

It can’t hold all his strength.

It can’t wield his full abilities.

And he is the strongest being in this world.

That alone would draw challengers.

Too risky.

Ideally, it would be like the Dragon World, where his body rged with the world, and the world rewarded his soul with immortality.

But this world does nothing.

No whispers from the world’s will.

No signs.

No reply—even after repeated inquiries.

He lies on the grass, eyes to the sky, one idea after another passing and failing.

But then, a thought takes root.

A thod that might work.

Crystallise his body into a statue.

rge it with the world’s field.

Use the spirituality of all beings—and fragnts of his soul—to create a sentient A.I., a mind that stays behind, within the body.

Then, when the ti cos, his main soul can return.

A bridge.

A mory.

A presence.

As he lies thinking, Evelyn finds him.

Evelyn joins him as he lies on the grass, lost in thought.

They talk softly, their voices blending with the wind.

They kiss—slowly at first, then with the weight of years between them.

A pale mist rises, wrapping around their bodies, shielding them from sight.

After living here for a month, Evelyn is with him again.

Their closeness did the rest.