The dimension didn't shatter—it folded. Layer upon layer, reality twisted as though pressed by unseen forces, its seams displaced with a hushed violence.
Jalen's breath hitched the moment the Origin Shard pulsed. Then it gripped him.
No chant. No warning. Just power—raw and assertive. It seized his qi, yanked at the depths of his core, and launched him upward through the warp fracture like a blazing comet wrapped in gravity and flame.
He vanished into light.
The baby dragon nestled in the crook of his arm didn't resist. Its eyes glowed, and it gave an excited squeal as the ride hurled them through the sky at impossible speed.
Far below, the realm began to distort. Geography rearranged itself in reverence—or terror. Mountains reassembled. Rivers reversed their flow. Cultivators across the region snapped to attention as the disturbance tore through the heavens like a divine fracture.
And many followed.
Rogue cultivators in the Spirit Fusion Realm and below, wandering sects, elites from distant regions of Rale, even royal emissaries riding air currents in cloaked formations—each chased the trail of radiance. Some chased the ripple of qi. Others chased a glimpse of the baby dragon. A few whispered that Jalen himself might be an ascended dragon disguised in human skin.
Jalen streaked across the realm, faster than thought—and then he stopped.
Not of his own volition.
The shard yanked him downward, aiming for a mountaintop veiled in formations so dense and ancient even his Spirit Wind Art breath like dust technique failed to pierce their design. Sigils—carved by masters long forgotten—spun midair in elegant patterns, designed to rebuff anything short of entities at the Sky Limit Realm. To all others, they were simply death.
Jalen knew in that moment why no one had found this treasure he wanted the most in millennia.
The mountain wasn't just high—it was buried in clouds, wrapped in illusion formations so intricate they camouflaged its existence entirely. If not for the Origin Shard, it would have remained myth. Even his own senses hadn't detected it. But now, the shard had cleared the path.
And others had seen it.
The gathering swelled.
Cultivators hovered just beyond the shimmering boundaries, wary of the defensive field that curled around the mountaintop like a protective beast. Walford and Jaya arrived together, their journey tearing through unstable terrain. They reached the summit breathless, stunned by the convergence of powers drawn here.
Before them lay the Flaming Blue Pond.
Water as still as glass, flames dancing inside it like silk, all suspended in celestial balance. Azure ripples and ethereal fire swirled as one, pulsing with qi that whispered in forgotten tongues, echoing memories of realms lost to time.
Jaya's eyes narrowed. "This is?" She couldn't believe it.
Walford nodded, slow and deliberate. Then he looked to Jalen, he though the kid don't know where the treasure was, so how did he find it?
Around them, murmurs rose. Some recognized the treasure's lore and stared wide-eyed at its impossible seal. Others studied the defensive formations and knew, with grim certainty, that one misstep meant obliteration.
Yet it wasn't just the treasure that drew their attention.
Their eyes shifted—toward Jalen.
Ambitions sharpened. Some eyed the baby dragon with hunger. Others watched Jalen's composure and murmured wild theories: he was a beast encased in human flesh. A beast with a masked bloodline. Most dismissed him as some low-tier brat with expensive concealment tools.
Only the wise kept their thoughts to themselves.
Jaya felt unease rise in her chest. She scanned the crowd and spotted five familiar faces. Three of her royal brothers and two princesses, each flanked by Imperial realm Guards from early to peak wrapped in layered armor—eyes glittering with ambition.
Her sisters sneered at her. One of her brothers chuckled without humor. The other two didn't even acknowledge her presence, as though she were less significant than the breeze.
Jaya straightened, shoulders rigid.
Walford moved closer.
He said nothing.
But she felt his presence—quiet support that stood behind her like a wall of stone wrapped in silk.
Then a rogue stepped forward.
Peak Spirit Fusion Realm. Shoulders wide, aura heavy. He wasted no words. No taunts. No posturing. Just pulled out his high-grade spirit blade and pointed it directly at Jalen.
His qi surged—wind cultivation entangled with compressed sword essence, flame runes gleaming along the blade's length.
Jalen remained still.
Until the man stepped close.
Then he moved—Luminous Veil Step.
He reappeared mid-motion, and a blade made of pure light shimmered in his grasp. Luminal Edge. A radiant arc of intent.
The rogue reacted fast enough to parry the strike, his blade meeting Jalen's mid-air. He staggered back, chest grazed by the residual energy. Murmurs rippled through the crowd.
Many of those who had mistaken Jalen for a dragon now recalibrated their expectations. The truth was stranger. He was human. Young. At the Spirit Fusion Realm.
Impossible.
And his light qi—rare, delicate, typically used for support—not only held its own, but cut with precision and intent rarely seen.
Shock rippled through the ranks. Those who had dismissed him now studied him with sharpened gaze. Walford and Jaya, though familiar with Jalen's powers, still found themselves stunned anew.
More questions arose by experts who have lived for many decades: Was Jalen descended from the ancient light sect? The one that rarely interfered with worldly affairs? But he didn't match their pacifist reputation. This child was… something else.
The rogue lunged again—wind qi snapping like storm silk. His strikes were fast, refined, designed to rip through defenses.
Jalen dodged using Luminous Veil Step, sometimes catching the enemy's blade with his Luminal Edge, sometimes darting away just in time. Despite suffering several minor injuries, he moved like fluid geometry—calculated, lethal.
He vanished, reappeared mid-flip, and his blade flared brighter, slicing wind blades out of the sky, leaving ruptured trails of air behind.
The rogue stumbled. Robes torn, balance shaken.
Jalen struck again—not with brute force, but surgical intent. His blade curved through space like lightning woven into silk. Blood sprayed from a near-perfect gap in the elder's defense.
The crowd shifted.
Ambitions twitched.
Though his opponent stood a sub-realm above him, Jalen didn't seem disadvantaged. The rogue unleashed one of his ultimate wind techniques, forcing lower-level cultivators to flee the perimeter.
But Jalen didn't wait.
He used Flare-reversion—returned to a spot he'd occupied just moments before, now behind his enemy. The rogue spun, startled, but too late.
Jalen's Luminal Edge pierced cleanly through him before he activate Solar pulse using more than half the qi in his dantian through his light blade causing his enemy to explode into meat paste. A cracked core then tumbled mid-air.
The baby dragon lunged with glee, aiming to devour it.
Jalen caught him with one arm.
"No," he said softly.
The core shimmered with qi far denser than the child could absorb. It would've destroyed him.
The dragon wailed, tiny limbs flailing in frustration. Jalen stored the core away with quiet efficiency.
The crowd—silent, stunned—watched with wide eyes. Many had never witnessed Spirit Fusion Realm combat. The devastation spoke for itself. Just a few clashes had warped the surrounding terrain and cracked the sky.
And Jalen, the boy they doubted, stood center-stage, his blade aglow, a silent legend in the making.