Lin Yu drifted through the ethereal currents of Greyhill Town, weighing everything he had gathered.
Suddenly, a muffled *"Bomb!"* echoed as his borrowed sparrow body disintegrated into a spray of blood and grime. It had served its purpose, but it was too fragile for what came next. "I must forge a vessel worthy of my True Spirit," he mused.
A dark rift tore open above him, and he plunged through.
He re-emerged atop the gables of a manor wreathed in roaring flames. The heat was intense, but it could not singe his True Spirit. He lingered in the heart of the blaze, perfectly hidden. In the waking world, this building was a charred ruin, long since consumed by fire. Yet, because the townspeople could never scrub the image of the inferno from their minds, the house remained eternally burning on the Dream Side. It was a stark reminder: here, the subconscious was the ultimate architect.
As the phantom fire swirled around him, Lin Yu began to organise his next moves. He mentally mapped the Duex Kingdom, a land carved out by the Four Families: Stranz, Wulf, Cassius, and Horton. The Stranz held the throne, while the others reigned as Dukes over a hierarchy of Earls, Viscounts, and Barons. Here in Greyhill, Baron Randall held the leash.
He considered the locals' path to power. The world belonged to Dream Magicians and Dream Knights. A Magician could learn the path of the Knight, but the reverse was impossible. Magicians were born with the gift of a conscious soul; Knights had to hammer their own Will into a blade to keep from drifting away.
To reclaim his former glory, Lin Yu knew he needed more than just a dream-phantom. He needed a physical shell.
He took flight, arrowing toward the town's outskirts. The settlement was too crowded, too influenced by the collective gaze of the living to allow for the manifestation of a new body. He needed the raw, untainted resources found only in the deep wilderness.
He breached the town's protective barrier, but no monsters rose to challenge him. The local Magicians and Knights had been efficient, hunting the nearby beasts to the brink of extinction for their precious essence. To the common folk, these monsters were a walking death sentence; to the cultivators of this world, they were merely fuel.
With a surge of intent, Lin Yu plunged into the shadows of the surrounding forest.
Inferior monsters scurry through the undergrowth like common animals. He pushes deeper into the thicket until he stumbles upon a goblin camp. Without a word, he spreads his Digital Field across the clearing.
An illusion takes hold. The goblins turn on one another in a mindless, bloody frenzy. He targets them specifically for their numbers, harvesting the weak to fuel his ascent. Once the last green-skinned corpse falls, Lin Yu summons a shimmering digital panel. He designed this interface himself to track his progress.
The display reads: *Skeleton Formation: 0.0001%*.
The number reflects the meagre energy harvested after the cost of the slaughter. Only this single metric appears on the screen. He has partitioned his resurrection into calculated stages, and a new frame is the priority.
He vanishes back into the shadows to hunt. Days pass in a blur of predation. Eventually, he stops by a prismatic lake on the Dream Side to check his status.
*Skeleton Formation: 0.00021%*.
He sighs at the glacial pace. "It matters not," he murmurs to the empty air. "My True Spirit carries a wisp of immortality. I have nothing but time."
With his lifespan no longer a concern, he decides to retreat from the hunt. His Digital Law, now rooted in the local Dream Law, allows him to slip between realities at will. A black portal tears open in the air, and he dives through.
He emerges in the physical world beside a crystal-clear lake. Without a physical anchor, his spirit manifests at the exact coordinates of his dream-self. Nearby, a male leopard laps at the water.
Lin Yu strikes. He plunges into the beast, claiming its flesh and bone as his own. His True Spirit is vast, but the physical laws of this world act as a heavy shroud, suppressing his true potency. He opens his eyes to a world washed in unfamiliar hues. Through the leopard's primal gaze, the forest is no longer a collection of trees, but a thermal map of heat signatures and pulsating life.
Lin Yu draws his focus inward, sinking into the animal's anatomy. Under his absolute command, the leopard's heart begins to beat with a heavy, rhythmic thunder, pumping oxygenated blood into every capillary. He forces the muscle fibres to vibrate at a precise frequency, a low-level kinetic friction designed to temper and forge his bones from the inside out.
The process is interrupted by a sharp, gnawing ache. The stomach cries out, its mortal metabolism unable to keep pace with the divine demands of his True Spirit.
Lin Yu digitises the leopard's biological data and summons his self-created panel. He doesn't truly need the interface to track his growth; his True Spirit senses every atom, but there is a cold, mechanical satisfaction in seeing the numbers climb. It gives him a tether to the progress he once knew.
- *Skeleton Formation:* 0.0001%
- *Leopard Body:* 3.7%
The panel tracks the transition from a mundane beast to a First-Stage Transcendent vessel. Lin Yu has set these benchmarks himself; while he remains ignorant of this world's specific power scales, he suspects the fundamental laws of evolution are universal.
With a silent, predatory grace, he launches himself forward on four legs. He is a blur of spotted fur and violet intent, cutting through the undergrowth. While Lin Yu continues his methodical progress, far across the world, a man who glimpsed the shifting tides of destiny stands before a colossal astrological map. He seeks the source of the ripple. As an Eighth Rank Dream Magician, his power unfurls like a Great Cloud, his consciousness soaring from the Eastern lands across the vast, churning oceans toward the West.
He finds only a wall of impenetrable fog.
Refusing to be denied, he gathers his psychic strength to pierce the veil. In the forest, Lin Yu feels a faint, irritating buzz against his consciousness, the persistent pestering of a mosquito. With a flick of his True Spirit, he delivers a mental slap toward the intrusive gaze.
In the high tower, Master Zhenyi groans in sudden, agonising pain. His body sways, and he collapses. His apprentices and attendants surge forward, catching him before he hits the cold stone floor.
An armoured man standing by the doorway steps forward alongside a frail-looking scholar. The scholar's eyes flicker with a sharp, hidden light. "Is Master Zhenyi alright?" he asks, his voice laced with concern.
One apprentice rises, his face pale. "The Master has received a punishment from heaven. He will recover, but he must rest."
General Ye's heavy, metallic tone cuts through the room. "Can you not wake the Master now? The Emperor requires answers."
The apprentice shakes his head fervently. "A Heaven Punishment strikes the spirit itself. Waking him prematurely could turn a shallow wound into a mortal injury."
The scholar begins to fan himself with a paper fan, releasing a gentle green breeze that smells of ancient forests and wild vitality. "General Ye, do not be so impatient," the scholar warns softly. "If the Master is permanently broken because of our haste, His Majesty will not be merciful."
General Ye snorts, his cape snapping as he turns. "Inform me the moment he stirs. I will be waiting at the base of the Astrological Tower."
His heavy footsteps echo through the halls, fading into the distance. The scholar watches him go, a thin smile playing on his lips. "General Ye... always so restless," he murmurs.
"Our thanks, Chancellor Wu, for your intervention," the apprentice says, bowing low.
"It is merely my duty," Chancellor Wu replies, his gaze lingering on the unconscious Master Zhenyi as he is carried away. "Might I wait for the Master to awaken in the library?"
"Of course. Shall I lead the way?"
"No need," the Chancellor says, already turning toward the door. "Tend to your master. I know the way well enough."
Lin Yu licks his paws with the slow, rhythmic grace of a cat, fully immersing himself in the role of the leopard. Beside him lies the picked-clean skeleton of a deer, the first kill of his new life. His stomach is full, and the raw biological energy of the prey hums through his veins.
Before he begins the gruelling practice of forging the leopard's frame, his thoughts drift back to the "insect" that tried to peer at him. During the hunt, he had been too occupied to care, swatting the gaze away with the casual indifference of a god. Now, in the quiet of the forest, he decides to see who dared to touch his essence.
He closes his eyes. Although he has not yet mastered the Laws of Cause and Effect or the tangled threads of Destiny, the act of striking back created a temporary bridge—a lingering resonance between his True Spirit and the intruder. Because the gap in their power is as vast as the distance between heaven and earth, Lin Yu easily follows the connection back to its source.
He peers into the consciousness of the man across the world. For a fleeting second, he catches the scent of ancient incense and the cold air of a high tower. But as he reaches deeper, a thunderous sound erupts, the roar of a Golden Dragon.
The connection trembles. The draconic aura of an empire's luck acts as a shield, threatening to sever the link. Lin Yu could stabilise it, forcing his way through with his Digital Law, but it would come at the cost of his True Spirit's precious energy.
He lets the connection shatter. To him, his essence is more valuable than the identity of a mortal king's servant. Besides, with the sheer weight of his True Spirit, he doubts anything in this world truly possesses the strength to kill him.
Dismissing the distraction, he settles into a crouch. He begins to vibrate his musculature once more, directing the deer's refined energy into his marrow. The work of forging the leopard's body continues.