Three days after the first confrontation, the town of Alina was quiet again—but the silence felt fragile. Like frost on glass. Waiting to shatter.
And it did.
The sky darkened.
Over five hundred cultivators descended like a storm, their presence blotting out the sun. They hovered above the town square in tight formation, their auras crashing down like thunder. The weakest among them was peak Star Realm. Dozens were Moon Realm, from early to peak stage. A handful radiated the pressure of Peak Imperial Realm—a full sub-realm above Jael.
But two stood apart—twin pillars of dread.
Peak Spirit Fusion Realm.
They didn't speak at first. They didn't need to. Their presence alone made the townspeople collapse to their knees, hearts pounding in their throats. Some believed it was over. That punishment was inevitable. Others prayed their saviors would come through again.
Jalen stood unmoved. Arms folded. Gaze calm.
Calen wasn't worried. His master was the strongest man he knew. As long as Jalen was here, nothing would go wrong.
One of the Spirit Fusion cultivators finally spoke, his voice amplified by qi. "By decree of the Royal Kingdom, all who have awakened spirit roots—and the father-son duo who interfered—are to be conscripted. Resistance will be met with death. You have one minute."
The silence that followed was thick with dread.
No one moved.
No one spoke.
The minute passed.
The commander gestured to his squad—Star Realm and higher—ready to seize the townspeople by force.
But before they could move, Jael stepped forward.
Not out of justice. Not out of anger. But because Jalen had sent him.
"Test your strength," his father had said. "But don't overreach."
Jael's eyes glowed blue—colder than before. His aura shifted. No longer just frost, but something deeper. Something absolute.
The temperature dropped. The air thickened. Even the Spirit Fusion experts paused.
Then the world collapsed into silence.
Frost erupted from Jael's skin, spreading in jagged veins wherever he moved. Clouds froze in his wake. Wind stilled at his approach. Even sunlight dimmed, refracted through the haze of suspended ice clinging to his presence.
This was Ice Art Technique Two: Nil—a lethal transformation that plunged his body temperature below zero. Anything that touched him—or strayed too close—froze in both flesh and spirit.
Jalen had activated the formation he'd laid around the town two days ago the moment Jael triggered Nil to prevent any damage. After all, one mistake and this town could become a frozen wasteland.
The three Peak Imperial Realm cultivators moved as one—fast, precise, and brutal. Their auras surged, warping the sky around them.
Jael looked like a child. His life force felt young—barely formed, barely refined. But there was something ancient about him too. Something buried beneath the surface. Something that didn't belong in a mortal body.
And they dared not underestimate him.
They struck.
One unleashed a barrage of wind blades, each curved and honed to slice through qi. Another summoned a flame serpent, its body coiled with molten scales and venomous heat. The third activated a spatial anchor, locking Jael's movement midair and launching a distortion blade aimed at his chest.
That blade froze mid-flight and shattered. So did the spatial distortion.
Jael reached out toward the wind blades. As they came within a foot of him, they turned to ice and crumbled. The serpent lunged—and met the same fate, its body freezing solid before impact.
Jael retaliated.
With his ice arm, he activated Technique Six: Cryo Lance Spiral, hurling three rotating spears of ice toward his opponents. The flame cultivator melted them with a barrage of fire, then formed flaming whips to strike Jael. Though Nil was active, a direct hit could still harm him.
Jael dodged with intense speed and charged all three enemies. They exchanged a hundred blows in seconds. Every time they made contact with Jael, their bodies began to freeze. They had to channel qi constantly just to prevent death by frostbite—but it still hurt.
They began to keep their distance, switching to long-range attacks.
Jael raised his hand.
Technique Three: Winter Rend—three crescent blades of ice erupted from his fingertips, slicing through the air. One struck the wind cultivator's shoulder. Another hit the flame cultivator's thigh. The third was absorbed by the spatial cultivator's qi shield.
They clashed again. Jael took hits—but Nil numbed the pain. He dealt severe blows in return. The three Peak Imperial Realm cultivators were stunned. A mid-Imperial child was holding his own. Worse—he was winning.
It wasn't just embarrassing. It was humiliating.
Below, the townspeople could barely follow the fight. The cultivators moved too fast for mortal eyes. To some, it looked awe-inspiring. To others, terrifying.
The three men grunted, blood spraying—but they didn't fall.
Jael's breath hitched. He was covered in wounds. He bled.
Then came the reinforcements.
A group of Peak Moon Realm and early Imperial Realm cultivators surged forward, sensing an opening. One hurled a net of violet lightning. Another cast a flame burst. A third blinked behind Jael, aiming for his spine.
Jael spun midair, activating Technique Seven: Tundra Scatter. Shards of ice sprayed in a wide arc, catching two attackers in the chest. They screamed as frost crawled into their lungs. One died instantly. The other plummeted, unconscious.
The third attacker reached him—barely.
Jael raised his arm. The man's blade froze mid-swing. His hand turned blue. His arm cracked. He screamed and fled.
Jael exhaled, chest heaving. Using so many techniques back-to-back while fighting multiple opponents was draining. And Nil—his greatest weapon—was a double-edged sword. He couldn't maintain it any longer.
More enemies came at him. He kept them off, but he was exhausted. He had reached his limit.
That's when one of the Spirit Fusion Realm cultivators decided to act.
A spatial ripple cloaked his blade. He aimed for Jael's back—timing the strike between Jael's dodge and one of his subordinate's attacks.
It would have worked.
But Jalen moved.
One moment he was watching. The next, he was in the sky—between Jael and the attacker.
Luminal Edge flashed—a blade of pure light, faster than thought. It pierced the Spirit Fusion cultivator's chest.
Then came the seventh technique of the Shadow Art:
Shadow Devour.
Darkness erupted around the victim, devouring his body, his qi, and even his presence. Not even bones remained.
The second Spirit Fusion expert and all his colleagues were stunned. None of them had noticed Jalen's arrival until their comrade died. They didn't even know how he died.
One thing was clear: Jalen, who looked barely in his twenties, was a monster.
They all wanted to flee.
Jalen released his mid-Sage Realm aura—and everyone froze. No one dared move.
Jalen turned to Jael, who leapt into his arms.
Jael smiled, breath still ragged. "Did I do well, Father? I even held back my flame qi like you suggested."
"You did well," Jalen said, patting his head. "But you have a long way to go."
"One day, I'll surpass you," Jael said, voice steady. "Then I'll protect you, Mom, and my little brother and sister from anyone who dares to cause harm."
"Well, you do have the potential to be even stronger than I am," Jalen replied.
Jael grinned. "Maybe. But right now, you're still the strongest person in the world."
Jalen chuckled softly. "Let's get you healed."
He activated Flare of Recursion, using light to restore Jael's body. It was as if he hadn't been injured at all. Even his qi was restored to half.
Then Jalen looked out into the distance and said aloud, "Have you seen enough?"
Minutes passed.
No reply came.
So he didn't pay the watcher—a Sage Realm expert observing from miles away—any further mind. Whoever they were, they got the message.
Instead, Jalen turned to the surviving Spirit Fusion expert and his comrades—over four hundred cultivators who had survived Jael.
Some of them literally wet themselves under Jalen's glare.
"From now on," he said, "you are all my servants. If anyone disagrees, speak now. But know this—you have no option. Refuse, and you die."
No one objected.
"Good. You have one task. You will surrender all your cultivation tools, methods, and items. You will assist the townspeople in their cultivation. You will not be stingy. You will teach them everything you know."
The intruders wore long faces. Who wouldn't? Hundreds of years spent gathering cultivation resources—now handed over. But they had no room to negotiate. One wrong move, and they'd die.
Jalen opened the formation over the town and used his aura to force all the cultivators down from the sky. Then he activated the second phase of the formation—making it impossible for anyone to enter or leave the town unless they were at the late-stage realm or higher.