rin and a figure wrapped in black fire face each other in the sky.
Their fields split the heavens into two halves—one a boundless surging ocean, the other a raging sea of black fire.
When the two fields collide, waves of water elental figures rise from the ocean, while black fla figures erge from the inferno.
The armies clash, sky quaking as water hisses against fire, each strike tearing cracks into the air itself.
This is the deadliest battle in the Tao Realm.
If one loses the war of fields, they will be swallowed whole by their opponent’s domain, left helpless inside, completely at the rcy of the victor.
The figure wrapped in black fire belongs to the Black Fire Race.
rin stands against him on the battlefield between humans and the Black Fire Race, a battlefield he had no choice but to step into.
Three months of retreat was all he could afford before leaving his mountain, as his cultivation demanded more than the sect could give.
In Tao Space Realm, the most vital resource is the Source Stone, each one holding only enough essence to form a single wisp of source energy.
As a candidate disciple, rin receives ten stones each month, but they are far from enough.
He ford only a wisp of water source when he broke through, but to complete the water source alone, he needs a thousand wisps.
And water is only the beginning—he must do the sa for fire, earth, wood, and tal to truly cultivate the Five Elent Sutra.
Every advancent, every step forward, consus more stones than the sect can provide.
So rin ca here, to the battlefield, where blood and danger are traded for the resources needed to climb higher.
Now he clashes with a Tao Space cultivator of the Black Fire Race, their fields tearing the sky apart.
As water and black fire wage war, rin sharpens his mind, sensing the principles hidden within his opponent’s flas.
He feels the weaving of fire and destruction inside the black field, and his own Tao Body—rooted in fire and destruction—responds naturally, making comprehension easier with each exchange.
The ocean and black fire tear into each other, every surge and flare scattering fragnts of law across the sky.
rin narrows his gaze, not resisting blindly, but letting his senses dive into the heart of the flas.
He feels it—destruction laced within fire, not as pure law, but as a crude intertwining, one that burns hot yet leaves cracks.
His own Tao Body, forged with both fire and destruction, resonates, peeling apart the strands of his opponent’s principles like threads unravelling in his hand.
The ocean within his field swells, each wave eroding the stability of the black flas.
The figures of water clash harder against the fla figures, and little by little, the enemy’s fire creatures lose shape, collapsing into formless smoke.
rin presses further, deconstructing the enemy’s domain until the sea of black fire flickers, breaking under the tide of his ocean.
The figure of the Black Fire Race staggers, his field shattered, leaving him exposed.
rin wastes no breath, his finger raising as destruction beams pierce through the weakened flas, ripping holes through the man’s body.
The cultivator howls, trying to summon back his fire, but the waves crush it before it takes form.
rin steps forward, claws flashing, and with one strike, severs the last thread of resistance.
The enemy falls, body broken, yet not dead enough for rin.
Dark fire blossoms in his palm—his devouring fire magic—and he casts it over the corpse.
The flas coil hungrily, swallowing flesh, bone, and even lingering essence, until nothing remains but ashes carried by the wind.
When the fire dies, a single crystal remains, black shot with orange veins pulsing faintly like a beating heart.
It falls into rin’s hand, warm and heavy, humming with the remnants of fire and destruction principles.
rin turns it over slowly, eyes thoughtful, already considering what use he can draw from it.
The crystal is similar to a source stone, only denser, purer, and if he can separate the fire energy within it, he can use it to forge the foundation of his fire source.
After killing the Dao Space Realm enemy, he returns to the fortress, exchanges the spoils for source stones, and then retreats to his room.
There, he begins absorbing the source energy, not rushing to complete the elental sources first, but pushing his cultivation toward the peak of Tao Space Realm.
His plan is clear—first, consolidate strength to the utmost peak, then complete each elental source one by one.
Six months pass in steady cultivation, the cycles of absorption sharpening his foundation.
On one mission outside the fortress, he cos across a group of disciples from Mirage Water Palace, surrounded and struggling.
They are all Ascendant Realm cultivators, their formation breaking under the assault of a Tao Space Realm Black Fire Race cultivator.
Without hesitation, rin’s field expands, crashing into the enemy’s, the ocean colliding against a blazing domain of black destruction fire.
Every encounter teaches him anew—even though the Black Fire Race all wield the laws of fire and destruction, their principles shift, their field construction unique, each one a chance to harvest new insights.
The fight is brief; rin breaks down the enemy’s field, pierces him with destruction beams, and ends it with devouring fire, leaving behind another black-orange crystal.
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As the flas die, one of the Mirage Water Palace disciples approaches.
She is tall, her aura sharp as cold currents, her presence marked by water essence that resonates faintly with yin.
She bows slightly and introduces herself as Shui Yinhai.
rin recognises she was the one holding the enemy at bay, her Tao-ranked body enduring strikes long enough for her companions to survive.
Though only in the Ascendant Realm, her resilience and water affinity make her remarkable.
After brief pleasantries, rin escorts them back to the fortress, exchanges source stones, then once more withdraws to his room.
Everything on the battlefield is recorded by the Saint Realm cultivator guarding the fortress, so rin does not need to hand over the black-orange crystal.
Back in his sealed chamber, he sits cross-legged, the crystal resting in his palm.
Channelling his destruction law, he begins stripping the fire essence from it, each thread of blazing power refined and drawn into his illusion space.
As his comprehension deepens, the fire principle responds, and a wisp of fire source takes form within his illusion space.
The mont it stabilises, the ocean of water source clashes violently with it, the two opposite sources rejecting one another, shaking his inner world.
rin acts imdiately.
The mountain in the centre of his illusion space shifts, reshaped into a volcanic peak.
Lava erupts from its crater, flowing down its sides in blazing rivers until it ets the surrounding ocean.
The magma cools into stone, and with each cycle, the mountain expands outward, slowly transforming into an island surrounded by waves.
He watches the balance return, then murmurs inwardly,' I was able to suppress the conflict because my cultivation is still greater than the two sources, but this won’t last forever.'
If he continues this way, once his cultivation reaches the peak of Tao Space Realm, the unchecked growth of the two opposing sources will spark inevitable conflict.
To prevent that collapse, he must form the remaining three elental sources and weave them into harmony.
He recalls the passages from the Five Elent Sutra.
The sutra contains of magical powers that belong to a single elent, as well as magic powers that help in the comprehension of all five—bridging fire, water, earth, tal, and wood into a complete cycle.
Now he trains in the magic powers of a single elent.
rin closes his eyes, deciding that the next step is clear.
He will cultivate the other three elental sources—earth, tal, and wood—before his foundation becos unstable.
rin remains in seclusion, sinking wholly into the rhythm of the earth.
Each day, he summons the Stone Shield, disperses it, and reshapes it again, feeling the weight shift from crude solidity to refined essence.
The sutra’s words etch deeper into his mind with every attempt, teaching him that earth is patience, endurance, and the slow pulse beneath all life.
Weeks pass, and the crust at the base of his volcanic mountain thickens, soil compacting into bedrock, anchoring the island against the surging tides.
His body grows calr, his aura steadier, his true energy denser with each repetition.
Finally, after three full months, his command of the Stone Shield reaches perfection.
With a final pulse of intent, he stabilises the illusion space once more and watches as a clear, solid wisp of earth source settles beside water and fire.
Three sources now gleam within him, faint yet unshakable, their conflict subdued for the mont.
With a final pulse of intent, he stabilises the illusion space once more and watches as a clear, solid wisp of earth source settles in the centre between water and fire.
The centre of the illusion space.
Three sources now gleam within him, faint yet unshakable, their conflict subdued for the mont.
rin exhales slowly, feeling the balance ripple through him, like a mountain rooted deep enough to withstand both tide and fla.
But he knows the balance born of three is only temporary.
Without the last two sources, tal and wood, his foundation will inevitably crack as the conflict between destruction and renewal grows sharper.
He shifts his focus to the next step, turning his eyes toward the sutra’s passages on the Sound of Resonance Magic Power—tal’s essence expressed through vibration and echo.
It is said to be the voice of the world itself, a rhythm that could shatter stone, split rivers, or soothe mountains into stillness.
rin closes his eyes, guiding his intent inward, already imagining his mountain breathing with a hum that spreads through the ocean and into the fiery core beneath.
The air trembles within the illusion space as the first faint sound erges, sharp and clear like a bell struck in the void.
rin sinks into ditation, letting the principle of ripple spread through his mind.
Every vibration, every echo, every quiver of sound is but a ripple carried through air, water, stone, and flesh.
He recalls the way his field once quaked under the resonance of an enemy’s power, and how he turned the principle inward to unravel their strength.
Now, he shapes it into his own.
The illusion space hums as the mountain resonates, each strike of vibration sending invisible ripples outward across the ocean’s surface.
They spread in perfect circles, striking magma currents, striking waves, striking the air itself.
Three days pass before the resonance becos steady, no longer collapsing into chaos but carrying rhythm, like a drumbeat flowing through every corner of his space.
Seven days later, the hum sharpens into clarity, like countless bells hidden within the stone of the mountain, all ringing in harmony.
Each ripple strengthens the boundary where ocean ets magma, hardening the island’s edge as if steel itself were being folded there.
One month in, rin discovers he can guide resonance to suppress conflict—when fire flares, he sends ripples to disperse its fury, when water rages, he steadies it with sound.
By the second month, the resonance deepens into force.
Waves clash against the mountain, but sound alone bends them aside, breaking their power without breaking their form.
The mountain’s heart glows faintly silver now, veins of tal threading through its body, as if the resonance itself has taken root within the stone.
In the final month, rin’s intent strikes its peak.
The entire illusion space resounds with the hum of tal, not deafening, but pure, like the still tone of a perfectly struck gong.
From the core of the mountain, a wisp of silver light erges, firm and sharp, condensing into the fourth elental source.
It floats beside fire, water, and earth, joining the cycle, their conflict muted beneath the harmony of resonance.
rin opens his eyes, his breath steady, his body vibrating faintly as if the world itself is answering his pulse.
He has forged the tal source.
rin closes his eyes once more, his thoughts turning inward toward the last elent he must complete for now—wood.
The Five Elent Sutra reveals a magic power tied to the vitality principle, one that nourishes and renews while also concealing a hidden ferocity.
It is called Verdant Pulse.
The illusion of space shifts as he begins his training.
From the volcanic mountain’s edge, shoots of green sprout through the cracks in cooling magma, stretching toward the sky with unyielding force.
Every pulse of vitality expands outward, strengthening the soil, softening the clash between fire and water, binding earth and tal in quiet rhythm.
Because he comprehends vitality from the beginning, progress cos swiftly.
The pulse spreads naturally across the ocean and mountain, feeding balance into every conflict.
A month later, a wisp of green light rises from the mountain’s crown, pure and alive, settling beside the other four.
The five now glow together faintly, forming the cycle, though incomplete and unstable.
rin opens his eyes, breath steady, his body filled with surging energy.
He has cultivated the three elental sources—earth, tal, and wood—and forged the foundation he needs.
But he has not mastered their magic powers.
The sutra holds countless other arts, and battle will be the crucible where they are tempered into true strength.
So he leaves the fortress, stepping once more into the battlefield.
The war rages endlessly, black fire clashing against the tide of humanity.
It is in that sea of slaughter that he encounters Shui Yinhai again.
She has advanced into the Tao Space Realm, her Mirage Water Palace heritage now shining in her aura.
But together, they are ambushed by three black fire race cultivators of Tao Space Realm.
Fields ignite and collide.
rin fights with ruthless precision, unravelling one enemy’s construction with his insights, his devouring fire finishing the kill.
The other two, wounded, retreat under Shui Yinhai’s pressure before they can be slain.
After that battle, rin and Shui Yinhai begin to fight side by side.
Each clash, each narrow survival, ties their strength closer, their trust deeper.
Through a decade of endless blood and fire, their bond grows unshakable.
The war lasted for ten years, but at last, the humans succeeded.
The black fire race is pushed back, their advance stopped.
The human race has defended its land, securing the five quotas to the Supre Battlefield Realm.
rin, his na resounding across the fortress, stands first on the rit list of Tao Space Realm cultivators under one hundred years old.
Confidence hardens within him.
In six months, when the quotas are decided, one place will be his.
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