Merin watches the dream seed drift into the void, then collapses. Forming it drained his spirit dry, so much that even a fragment of his soul was consumed. He endured the process with sheer will, but now, with the task complete, his body gives in. He falls asleep.
He stirs hours later, mind hazy, heart heavy. The first thought that comes—when will the dream seed return? Will it bring the energy he needs to escape this trap? Or will it only delay the inevitable?
He knows nothing about the extraordinary world. To create the dream seed, he followed the cultivation method recorded in the Dream Chapter, nothing more. He succeeded. The seed was formed. But what comes next? He has no way of knowing whether it entered a dream world or a real one—no way of knowing if it will return, or when.
He hadn't even considered the time difference before. Now the thought gnaws at him. What if the dream seed entered a world where time flows more slowly? A hundred years could pass there while only one year ticks by here. Or worse—it could be the opposite. If a hundred years here pass like one there, then the dream seed's return won't come in time. He'll have to abandon hope that it might save him.
Even if time flows in his favour, if the dream seed doesn't return within the next twenty months, he's finished. The black energy latched to his roots is already spreading. When it corrodes the roots beyond repair, he'll no longer be able to absorb energy from the void. Death will come slowly but certainly.
He didn't want to reincarnate in this world, even after knowing it was extraordinary. He came to this world against his will without any struggle. But that doesn't mean he'll surrender quietly. He's already made one attempt to defy fate—sending out the dream seed. Now, he must try something else.
Another method to absorb energy. Another path to survival.
Merin closes his eyes and begins the exercise from the Dream Chapter. His consciousness rises—not out of his body, but within it. It ascends slowly, like a thread climbing toward some unknown peak. Then it slips into a dark tunnel. A breath later, light appears at the end. When he steps through, he enters a black-and-white space—his dream domain.
Every person forms a dream domain when they dream. In that moment of sleep, their spirit brushes against the energy of the dream world, and an exclusive realm takes shape, one unique to them. But the exercise in the Dream Chapter grants him something more—his dream domain persists, tethered permanently to his spirit. It is his world, and it exists so long as his spirit does.
He doesn't know whether others in this world can control their dream domains, but he can. Here, he is absolute.
He thinks of the city he once lived in during his previous life. In response, a replica forms before him—not the entire city, just the parts he walked, the paths he knew. Most buildings are sealed. Only those he entered in his past life open, filled with details he remembers.
Another thought wipes the city away.
He flies to the edge of his dream domain. Beyond it, he sees countless other dream domains, flickering in and out like stars. Some glow faintly. Others burn brighter. One radiates golden light. The more vibrant and colourful the dream domain, the more powerful the person who owns it.
Merin watches them in silence. These dream domains—blinking lights in the dark—are more than illusions. They are doors. Connections. Possibilities. And now, they might be his salvation.
After a moment, he returns to the centre of his own domain and closes his eyes. A vast hall forms around him, built from black marble, smooth and cold. A chandelier of grey light hangs overhead, casting a pale, steady glow. Purple fog coils around the floor, thick and low, cloaking the room in mystery.
With a thought, he creates two doors on opposite sides of the hall. One gleams faintly with golden letters—Combat Training Room. The other remains blank, waiting for a future purpose.
He steps into the training room and enters a black void. Another thought reshapes the space—an arena takes form, with a wide sandy field in its centre. It feels solid, real. A place where others can fight, grow, and learn. He stays for only a moment, then returns to the hall.
There, he sits cross-legged on the marble floor and begins to cycle the dream seed exercise once more.
His white domain begins to pulse—slow and deep, like the beat of a sleeping heart. With each pulse, it draws in dream energy. He channels that energy, shaping it into threads of will—dream keys. Once formed, he releases them, sending them out into the sea of dream domains beyond his own.
When a key binds to another domain, it connects that person's dream to his. From that moment forward, when they sleep, their spirit will step into Merin's world.
Here, he can harvest their spirit energy—but not by force. He offers something in return.
In the arena, they can train. Fight. Advance. He can craft benefits suited to each of them, matching their needs and desires. This is not control—it is guidance. A trade.
He chooses only the ordinary. Dream domains that flicker faintly, dim and uncertain. To them, he will become something else—an unseen force guiding them forward. Their golden finger.
The stronger they become, the more energy they will give. And the longer Merin can hold on.
He opens his eyes after some time. Between his palms, white, milky dream energy swirls gently, soft, radiant, and cold. As he peers into it, flickers of his past lives emerge, playing like fading memories within the light. One by one, they vanish, dissolving like mist in sunlight—until only one dream remains.
A vast, barren land. A single towering tree stands at its centre, roots stretching endlessly beneath the cracked earth. This is the dream that remains. His only dream now.
To defeat the black energy.
To survive in this unfamiliar world.
To become an immortal existence untouched by death.
A dream, yes—but one he intends to make real.
The energy between his palms churns, condenses. Ten keys take form, each etched with a spell—tools designed to breach and connect with other dream domains. It is easier to break into the domains of the weak, which is another reason he targets ordinary people.
Fifteen days of absorbing dream energy, and he's produced ten dream keys.
One key vanishes from his hand. His consciousness follows it, riding its current as it swims through the dream energy ocean. He guides it quickly, steering it toward a faintly glowing dream domain. He can't afford delay—these keys are made of dream energy. Left too long adrift, they'll dissolve into the ocean like droplets into water. Only his will, his consciousness, holds them together.
In haste, he reaches the dim domain and inserts the key. A moment later, his consciousness snaps back to the black-marble hall.
Before him, a swirling black portal blooms into existence.
He peers into it with his spirit sense.
Inside is the dream of a middle-aged man. His spirit is calm, rooted. Stable. Had he been younger, it would've been unsettled, instinctively guarded, ready to flee. But age tempers the spirit. Still, Merin wants the young—the flexible minds of teenagers, not lives already moulded by hardship.
He cuts the connection.
Then, like the first, he sends key after key to other domains.
One by one, portals bloom into being.
At last, six portals remain before him, six people whose dreams now touch his.
He looks into the dream domains of the six, wanting to learn more, to understand the people now linked to his dream realm. Their dreams, formed within their domains, are born from memory and desire. By studying them, Merin can piece together fragments of their lives.
He starts with the portal on the far right.
His consciousness slips through, and he appears on a street under the glow of warm morning light. Around him, low stone buildings line the road, aged but sturdy. The architecture suggests an ancient city—or perhaps a town from long ago. Whether it's real or imagined, Merin can't tell, but this is the place the dreamer either lives or longs to live.
He turns at the sound of galloping hooves.
Five men on horseback rush past and halt in front of him. The one in front wears a bright red robe, the others are armed guards. Whispers from bystanders rise around him, and he understands. The man in red is an official. They've come to visit a building directly across the street—a spiritual woodworking shop.
Inside, a boy named Song Qi stands, flushed with excitement. He has just taken part in an official wood-working competition and won first place. The title granted to him is clear: Tier-1 Spiritual Carpenter.
Merin closes his eyes, takes control of the dream, and fast-forwards through the scenes.
The dream flows smoothly. After the award ceremony, Song Qi continues his craft. Five years later, he becomes a Tier-2 spiritual carpenter, purchases a house in Guman City, marries the daughter of his master, and has three sons and one daughter. By the age of thirty, he rises to the rank of Tier-3. Now, even the city lord and high officials show him respect. Eventually, the dream ends with his peaceful death.
From this single dream, Merin gathers more than just the boy's hopes.
Song Qi is still just an apprentice in the real world, working in the woodshop. His dream reveals the future he wishes to build: to become a spiritual carpenter, marry his master's daughter, gain respect, and live a fulfilled life.
Merin also gleans insight into the craft itself. Spiritual carpentry—an extraordinary profession. To become Tier-1, the carpenter must create a lifelike wooden piece that can absorb spiritual energy. Once the woodwork channels energy, it flows into the creator's body, awakening their power of mind.
The higher realms of this craft—Tier-2 and Tier-3—are vague in the boy's understanding. Song Qi only has clarity on the first step. Merin doesn't push further.
Satisfied, he withdraws from the dream.
Without pause, Merin steps into the dream of the next person.
The dream world shifts around him. This time, the surroundings are submerged—dark blue waters stretch in every direction, faintly illuminated by drifting light orbs and glowing corals. The dreamer is not human. A boy with scaled arms and a long tail swims through the depths with powerful strokes. He is a sea naga.
Merin lets the dream run forward in fast motion, watching its course unfold.
The boy's name is Talun. His dream is clear—he wants to become a Hunter. But this Hunter is not a simple title. It is the name of the first realm in an extraordinary cultivation path.
To become a Hunter, the body must master a technique called Sea Tide. Mastery of this technique activates a transformation—blood energy begins to flow through the cultivator's body. Only then does one truly become a Hunter.
The dream gives more. Talun is aware of the full progression of his path. After Hunter, there is Master Hunter, then Great Hunter, Grand Master Hunter, and finally, the Divine Seal Hunter. The path is structured, and Talun's mind holds the steps for the first four stages.
To become a Master Hunter, one must first reach the peak of the Hunter realm, then absorb the heart blood of a middle-level ferocious beast to initiate the breakthrough. But the transition is not guaranteed—there is risk, and not every attempt succeeds.
For Great Hunter, the heart blood must come from a high-level ferocious beast.
For Grand Master Hunter, it must be from a peak-level ferocious beast.
As for the Divine Seal Hunter realm, Talun's dream holds no method. Only that heart blood is no longer needed. What replaces it, the boy does not know.
Talun's dream ends with him standing on a coral-covered peak, holding a harpoon carved from silver bones, his tail coiled with golden light. The dream fades.
Merin withdraws his consciousness.
He now knows: Talun lives in a small Naga tribe where the strongest figure is only a Great Hunter. Even with limited guidance, the boy holds ambition—to surpass his tribe's peak and reach the legendary realm of Divine Seal Hunter.
Merin files the knowledge away. One more piece in the puzzle of this world.
He turns to the next portal.
This dream belongs to a girl named Ivy Johnson. She lives in a town called Granet, within the borders of the Kingdom of Livia. Ivy is the eldest sibling, with two younger brothers. Her dream is quiet yet persistent—to become a Spiritual Doctor. Before her death, she wished to reach the third realm of this profession: the Holy Hand Doctor.
Spiritual Doctor is not only a title but the name of the first realm in this profession. To begin the path, one must awaken mental energy using a special meditation technique. Once this mental force stirs, the first transformation is reached, granting the ability to examine a patient's body using the power of the mind alone.
The second realm is called the Spiritual Eyes realm. At this level, the doctor's mental energy strengthens and changes their eyes, allowing them to perceive the energy channels flowing through a body.
The third realm, Holy Hand, brings another evolution. The doctor's hands can form spiritual strings, threads of mental energy that can stitch wounds and repair flesh without blades or medicine.
The fourth realm is Vitality. Here, a doctor can awaken vitality energy within themselves—energy that can be used both to fight and to heal.
The final realm Ivy knows of is the Divine Seal Doctor, a name shared with other professions. But in her dream, she never truly believes she'll reach that high. Not even the fourth realm. She sees herself as someone who, with luck and perseverance, might one day stand in the Holy Hand realm and no further.
Still, Merin finds something valuable. The meditation technique Ivy uses is not simple stillness. It includes visualisation—the deeper and more precise one's mental image of their own body, the faster their mental power grows. This visualisation-based method may be useful to him in his cultivation.
He also notes a growing pattern—other extraordinary professions exist: Spiritual Blacksmith, Warrior, Hunter, Knight. They each seem to have their unique realm names, but the fifth realm in all of them bears the same title: Divine Seal.
He steps out of the dream, holding onto the details, and enters the next one.
The scene shifts to a dense rainforest. Heavy drops fall through the thick canopy, but Merin isn't surprised by the form of the dreamer—this one is a demon beast, a Serpent known as a Shadow Snake.
From the dream, Merin collects cultivation knowledge specific to demon beasts. Their growth is divided into four smaller realms under a single large realm known as the Mortal Realm: Low, Middle, High, and Peak. These represent stages of physical and magical development.
Beyond the Mortal Realm lies the Divine Seal Realm, which branches into five elemental paths: Earth Seal, Metal Seal, Water Seal, Wood Seal, and Fire Seal. Each element forms a different advancement route.
Above that is a third major stage—the Core Realm. The first realm in this stage is called the Diamond Realm. The snake's dream, however, holds no further information about what follows. Its knowledge comes not from experience but from inherited memory, passed down by blood.
Advancement for demon beasts is primitive but direct: eat and grow. The Shadow Snake's path is simple—consume enough energy, practice the magical powers etched in its bloodline, and once mastery feels complete, attempt a breakthrough. But success isn't guaranteed. Each leap is a risk.
The dream ends with the snake coiling around a dark stone, humming with power, focused only on eating, training, and someday dividing its core to reach the Diamond Realm.
Then, without pause, Merin steps into the next dream—this one belongs to a human. A male soldier.
The boy's name is Omar. His dream begins in the heart of a battlefield, soaked with blood and thunder. Two city-states, Pan and Breece, are at war. Omar prays for a swift end—one that ends in Pan's victory. In the dream, he becomes one of the heroes who secure that triumph. Cheers rise for him in the streets. His name is etched into the city's war monuments.
From Omar's dream, Merin gathers the cultivation hierarchy around the boy's world. It begins with Warrior, followed by Weapon Master, then Great Weapon Master, and finally Weapon Saint. The titles aren't bound to a specific weapon—the names change depending on what the cultivator wields: Sword, Spear, Bow, Axe.
After the victory, Omar dreams of travelling across the cities of the Black Peninsula. His cultivation progresses slowly but steadily. Eventually, he achieves the Sword Saint realm. Then, with dreams of higher realms burning inside him, he steps into the forbidden wilds—the 100,000 Mountains. He doesn't know what lies beyond the Weapon Saint realm, but he believes greater heights exist.
Merin also extracts something unexpected: a cultivation method. The War Wolf Body Technique—a body cultivation technique.
Merin files the knowledge away. Another piece. Another path. Another thread of power.
Then, he enters the last portal, stepping into the dream of Sulla.
At first glance, Sulla appears human, but the dream's memory paints a clearer picture. One pair of wings. Two pairs. Three. Finally, four pairs—each marking a progression of power. Merin realises Sulla only looks human. He's not. He belongs to the Light Spirit Race.
Sulla lives in a city called Aeroc, a place built with towering structures, humming with an energy source known as Light Stone. Merin watches, absorbing the details. The Light Spirit Race is advanced—an industrial civilisation, thriving on Light Stone to power their cities, machines, and innovation.
But their society is divided.
There are two cultivation paths: Wing of Sky, reserved for those born with wings, and Light Soul, the only option for those born without. Sulla, wingless and from an underprivileged family, is treated as lesser. Discriminated against. The Light Soul path is his only hope—but it is a path shrouded in difficulty. The meditation practice needed to begin is rarely accessible, nearly impossible to obtain for someone like him.
In the dream, Sulla doesn't believe he'll ever get it it-until fate intervenes. After falling from a cliff, he discovers a dead body lying below. On that body, he finds the meditation method of the Light Soul path.
Merin watches the rest unfold in silence. The dream shows the cruel climb of the wingless in a world built to keep them low. But Sulla's resolve, born from despair, begins to burn.
Merin steps back from the dream, storing it deep in his memory. Another piece. Another path. Another thread of power.
After checking the dreams of all six, Merin does not summon them into his dream domain. Instead, a thoughtful look forms in his eyes as he begins organising the knowledge he's gathered.
Piece by piece, the fragments settle. From the dreams, he guesses that the six do not live on the same continent, perhaps not even the same planet.
The Shadow Snake, nameless and primal, lives deep in a rainforest. A demon beast whose world revolves around eating and instinct. No cities. No people. Just the wild.
The others are different. Each surrounded by their own kind. Each woven into a different thread of civilisation.
Song Qi, a human, lives in a city that reminds Merin of ancient China from his past lives—structured, tradition-bound, filled with artisans and officials.
Ivy Johnson lives in Granet, a town resembling a pre-industrial European city. The signs of steam technology mark her world—civilisation advancing slowly, yet grounded in scientific curiosity and structured learning.
Omar, the soldier, exists in the era of city-states, locked in warfare. His world is raw, driven by conquest, where strength of arms and military discipline determine status. Among the three humans, Omar's civilisation is the least advanced.
Talun, the sea naga, lives in a tribal society, even lower on the ladder than Omar's. Their strength lies in blood and beast, in personal power earned through survival and tradition.
And finally, Sulla, of the Light Spirit Race—his world is the most advanced. His people have moved beyond primal survival. They have industries, powered by Light Stones, cities built with purpose, and systems that mirror the height of civilisation. Yet even there, prejudice and struggle exist.
Merin takes a breath, eyes reflecting the quiet complexity of it all.
He considers how to help the six grow in their cultivation realms. Every advancement in their realm would strengthen their spirit, allowing them to harvest more of their mental energy without harming themselves.
For Song Qi and Ivy, their path to advancement lies in increasing their knowledge. Song Qi in carpentry, Ivy in understanding the human body. To aid them, a door appears in the dream domain, its sign glowing softly with the words Simulation Room.
Inside, Song Qi will be able to simulate pieces of wood based on his knowledge and practice his woodworking. Ivy, using her growing understanding of the human body, can simulate her own body to improve the clarity of her visualisations.
For Talun, Omar, and the Shadow Snake, a Combat Training Room is prepared. They will spar against each other first. Once Merin gathers enough data about their fighting abilities, he will create perfect simulations, allowing them to battle clones of themselves tailored to push their limits.
Sulla, meanwhile, can either exchange meditation techniques with Ivy or train in combat. Merin has many meditation and visualisation techniques recorded within the Dream Soul Sutra, especially those from the Soul Chapter. But he decides not to offer them freely. Everything must be exchanged equally. Knowledge for knowledge. Progress for opportunity.
As he acquires more information about each of them, he will update and refine the dream domain further, shaping it into a true training ground. An exchange list will be created, outlining clearly what can be traded.
And now, the time has come.
Merin runs the Dream Plunder technique from the Dream Chapter. The six portals widen. One by one, six figures emerge, confusion clouding their faces. Behind them, their individual dream domains collapse and vanish into nothingness.
Before they can react, Merin sets invisible marks on their spirits. Marks that will draw them automatically into his dream domain whenever they sleep from now on.
The web is woven.
Song Qi opens his eyes and blinks in confusion. He finds himself standing in a vast room, its walls covered in sleek black plates that reflect the dim surroundings. A massive object hangs overhead, casting down a strange grey light, while thick purple fog coils along the floor, hiding even his own feet from view.
Before he can make sense of the setting, a girl's scream pierces the silence—
"Monster! Monster!"
He turns toward the sound and sees a girl scrambling to the edge of the room. Following her gaze, his eyes widen. A creature stands near the centre—a figure with the upper body of a human and the lower half of a snake. Scales gleam across its serpentine tail. It's not a costume. It's real. A black snake—alive and huge.
Chaos erupts.
Voices shout, overlapping in panic.
"Where are we?"
"Who kidnapped us?"
"Who are you people?!"
None of them sees Merin, though he stands silently before them. In his dream domain, he controls everything—their vision, their senses, their experience. If he doesn't want to be seen, they won't see him.
They aren't just confused by the location—they're stunned by each other. Each lived in a world where other races were distant myths or unknown altogether.
Talun, the naga, stands alone. His tail coils slightly as he senses the tension. The humans and Sulla instinctively group together at one end of the room. Sulla, though not human, looks like one. To the others, he blends in. Talun doesn't.
The shadow snake, clearly a demon beast, watches them with a twitching tongue, the hissing sound unsettling. His body writhes with unease. He doesn't understand what's happening either.
Talun eyes the snake with caution. Fear ripples through him—he can sense the aura. A low-level ferocious demon beast. Dangerous.
"I… Where am I?" the shadow snake hisses in confusion.
Though no words are spoken aloud, the six begin to understand each other. Here, in this strange realm, their thoughts link. It's how they communicate—directly, mind to mind.
Then, a voice rises in all their minds. Calm, echoing, absolute.
[Welcome to the training ground.]
Merin speaks.
Fear and confusion ripple through the six.
Song Qi's voice trembles,
"Who are you? Where am I? What is the training ground?"
Talun, warier, demands,
"Which tribe are you from?"
Ivy, voice small and desperate, says,
"My family is poor; kidnapping me won't get you any money."
The shadow snake hisses in confusion,
"Where am I? I remember sleeping inside a tree hole."
Omar, tense and alert, speaks,
"Are you from Shura City? Did you kidnap me to be trained for the death fights?"
Sulla shouts with firm conviction,
"Let me go! You can't escape from our Light Wing guards!"
Merin's voice fills the room again, steady and unshakable,
[I am the spirit of the training ground, created by a Great Being. This place was made to give ordinary people a chance to rise and control their destiny.]
[You are all safe. Your bodies are still at home, or wherever you were when you fell asleep. This place is part of your dreams. You will wake up when your body awakens and return here when you fall asleep again.]
[You cannot be harmed here. Nor can you harm each other.]
The tension eases slightly. Some eyes still flicker with suspicion. But Sulla steps forward, hope flashing in his gaze.
"Are you telling the truth? Can I get a meditation technique for the Light Soul path here?"
Talun frowns, asking bluntly,
"How can you help me rise?"
Merin's voice answers without delay,
[Meditation techniques can be acquired—but not now. I was only recently created. The Great Being will improve me with time, adjusting according to your needs.]
[Those who walk fighting professions can train in the Combat Training Room. Those who walk the path of knowledge and artistry can hone their skills in the Simulation Room.]
The purple mist coils around their ankles as silence falls, heavy with the weight of new possibilities.
Talun, Omar, and the shadow snake turn their eyes toward the Combat Training Room, eagerness flickering across their faces.
Without hesitation, Omar steps forward first, disappearing through the doorway.
Seeing him move, Talun and the shadow snake exchange a glance and then follow after him.
Left behind, Song Qi watches the three leave and mutters,
"Do you believe him? That we're just sleeping at home?"
Ivy, still uncertain, says,
"I don't know... the answer will reveal itself when we wake up."
Sulla shifts awkwardly, finally speaking,
"I'm Sulla, from Aeroc City."
Song Qi furrows his brows,
"Aeroc City? Never heard of it. And Sulla? What kind of name is that?"
Anger sparks in Sulla's eyes,
"It's a good name! And what about you?"
Song Qi answers,
"I'm Song Qi."
Sulla blinks, confused,
"Two names? Who has two names?"
Ivy smiles faintly,
"It's not two names. One is his name, and the other is his surname. But Qi is a strange surname... I've never heard it before."
Song Qi quickly explains,
"Qi is my personal name. Song is my family name."
Sulla frowns deeper,
"What's a surname?"
At the same time, Ivy tilts her head,
"Who says their family name first, then their name?"
Turning to Sulla,
"Are you a serf or a slave?"
Song Qi shrugs,
"Everyone around me uses names this way."
Turning back to Sulla, he asks,
"Didn't you meet your parents when you were born?"
Sulla answers Ivy,
"No, I'm not a slave."
Then to Song Qi,
"My parents are alive. I live with them."
Ivy crosses her arms and says thoughtfully,
"We should introduce ourselves properly. It seems like we come from very different places—even if we all look human."
Sulla frowns again and says firmly,
"I am not human. What is a human? Aren't you all like me, wingless Light Spirits?"
Confusion thickens. They begin exchanging their identities—names, races, and homes.
Piece by piece, they realise the truth:
Each one of them comes from a place the others have never even heard of.
Afterwards, Song Qi, Ivy, and Sulla head toward the simulation room.
But when they step through the door, each of them appears alone in an empty space.
Merin had designed the simulation room this way—each participant would enter their own separate training ground.
Before any of them could shout for the others, a stream of information flooded into their minds.
Merin explains the rules and purpose of the simulation room.
Song Qi's empty room shimmers and transforms into a wooden workshop.
A fresh block of wood rests on a sturdy table.
His old carving tools lay neatly beside it.
Without hesitation, Song Qi picks up a chisel and starts working, falling into the familiar rhythm of shaping wood.
Meanwhile, Ivy's room changes into a clean treatment chamber.
On the bed before her lies a perfect human body, identical to her own.
She moves around it, absorbing every small detail—bones, muscles, veins—without missing anything.
Sulla, however, finds himself with nothing to do.
The room around him flickers and reshapes itself, turning into his family's home in Aeroc City.
He walks through the familiar halls, memories rising with every step.
Frustration simmers in him.
He mutters,
"When will I be able to acquire a meditation technique?"
Merin's calm voice sounds in his ear,
[My master values knowledge. Bring knowledge you can gather. Then my master may reward you with a meditation technique.]
Sulla asks,
"What kind of knowledge?"
Merin replies,
[Any kind you can get your hands on.]
Hearing this, Sulla nods and leaves his simulation room.
He walks into the Combat Training Room.
Appearing on a pavilion overlooking the arena, Sulla gazes down at the battles taking place.
He spots two figures—one, a boy wielding a sword, the other, a boy with a snake tail using a spear.
Their clash echoes through the wide space.
At the edge of the arena, a black snake thrashes its tail against a boulder, dark gas swirling thickly around it.
The snake's strange magic makes Sulla's eyes widen in surprise.
It does not resemble light magic at all.
An instinctive disgust rises within him, deep and unexplainable.
But Sulla forces it down.
Instead, he grips the railing tightly and wonders,
'When will I also wield extraordinary power like them?'
Merin stands silently in the vast hall of his dream domain, his senses spread thin across every room.
He watches and feels everything.
Every stroke of Song Qi's chisel, every observation Ivy makes about the human body, every clash of weapons between Omar, Talun, and the shadow snake—all of it becomes knowledge flowing into Merin.
From Song Qi, Merin learns the subtle nature of wood.
Not just the surface appearance, but the hardness, the hidden grains beneath the bark, the slight differences in colour and texture only a true craftsman would notice.
Now, if he wished, Merin could create wood in his dream domain, but without Song Qi's knowledge, he would have never captured such detail.
From Ivy, Merin studies the human body.
A wave of surprise passes through him as he confirms that the human body of this world matches the human body from his past life.
Skin, muscles, bones, veins, organs, brain—everything in the same structure and position.
But when he tries to delve deeper into the cells themselves, the knowledge stops.
He understands their existence but not their inner mysteries.
In the combat training room, he absorbs knowledge of swordsmanship, spear techniques, and even the strange shadow magic radiating from the shadow snake.
The way the black gas wraps around the snake's tail, the intent behind the strikes, the instinctive control over the dark energy—Merin records it all.
Everything they simulate, everything they create or perform, passes into him.
Their thoughts and actions interact directly with his dream domain, making their understanding part of his.
Time passes.
The shadow snake is the first to vanish, slipping from the dream domain as he wakes up in the real world.
Then, one by one, the others disappear too—each according to the rhythm of their own world, their own night.
When the last figure fades, silence returns.
Merin withdraws fully from the dream domain, his mind heavy with new knowledge.
Settling back into his true body, he extends his mental energy and quietly measures the results.
The mind energy he harvested from the six is enough to sustain him for another twelve hours.
It is not much yet, but he knows this will change.
Once these six advance from ordinary people to extraordinary professions, the mind energy he can harvest from them will increase greatly.
It is the beginning.
He considers the future.
Introducing more people into his dream domain would boost his harvest, but there are risks.
To form one dream key, it takes one day and twelve hours of absorbing dream energy.
And right now, he cannot split his focus.
His dream domain is still a prototype, fragile and incomplete.
If he tried to add too many, the pressure of each new mind could collapse it.
Merin clenches his thoughts.
His domain can barely hold ten people.
Any more, and the internal strain could destroy everything he has built.
Rebuilding would take months—time he cannot afford to waste.
Before expanding, he must strengthen his domain first.
Currently, the radius of his dream domain stretches to one hundred meters.
If he could expand it to a thousand meters, he would be able to break through to the Third Chapter of the Dream Chapter.
At that point, his dream domain would be able to absorb dream energy by itself, removing the burden from him.
He breathes out slowly, leaving the matter of the dream domain for now.
His mind shifts to another topic—the extraordinary professions of this world.
Spiritual Carpentry crosses his thoughts first, but he dismisses it almost instantly.
With his mental energy reaching fifty-five meters around him, he sees no trees in the barren land, only himself.
There may be trees beyond his reach, but here and now, he is the only one—and he cannot use himself.
Thus, Spiritual Carpentry is out of his reach for now.
He shifts his thoughts toward the combat professions, but quickly discards them too.
He is a tree, not a human or naga capable of wielding a sword or spear.
Even the combat profession glimpsed in Sulla's dream offers no path—there is no information beyond a name.
What remains is Ivy's profession—the Spiritual Doctor.
He cannot become a Spiritual Doctor, but the meditation technique Ivy uses catches his attention.
In the meditation, one must visualise their own body.
Merin knows he cannot see his body as humans do.
He is a tree.
But not an ordinary tree—an extraordinary one, born with awakened mental energy.
With that mental energy, he can perceive his form, though not what lies inside his cells.
Still, that is a problem for the future.
For now, the meditation only requires the image of the external form, then the internal structure, and finally the cell's outer shape.
Ivy's dream showed no need to visualize the inside of a cell yet—it may come later, but it does not matter for him at this stage.
He has not even begun practising.
When the time comes to visualise the inside of his cells, his mental energy would likely be strong enough to see it.
With that confidence, he decides to try.
He closes his eyes.
In his mind, the black-and-white image of a tree slowly appears.
He starts carving out the details—the leaves trembling gently, the spreading branches, the rugged trunk, the gnarled roots gripping deep into unseen soil.