Inside a castle shrouded in silence, a white skeleton wearing a clown mask stood over a halved human corpse. With meticulous, almost ritualistic precision, he carved out the organs one by one—lungs, liver, heart, eyes—removing each with care. Eventually, nothing remained but the bloodied bones.
With his bony hands, the skeleton gently placed a palm on the corpse's exposed ribs. The bones began to twitch, then squirm, and finally dissolved into black mist as they were absorbed into the Bone Clown's body.
He murmured, "If I can get the bones of a Spirit King, the world's suppression on me will lessen. I might even recover my strength to the False Second Tier Realm."
His skeletal feet clacked loudly against the stone floor as he left the chamber, each step echoing through the dark halls. He walked with no rush, moving through winding corridors until he reached a large, shadowy room.
At its center stood a grand throne on a raised pedestal. The Bone Clown climbed the steps and settled into the seat, the bones of his frame creaking slightly.
He tapped the armrest with a single finger. In response, the floor before him shimmered, projecting four ghostly images:
A naga woman with deep green scales and hypnotic eyes—Xenia.
A four-eyed humanoid with two pairs of arms, each twitching with restrained energy—Marcland.
A woman with tree roots growing from her feet, leaves sprouting along her arms, and vines falling like hair—Kreese.
And finally, a swirling figure made entirely of dark grey sand—Samda.
Seeing them appear, the Clown spoke, his voice dry and cold, "How is the plan progressing?"
Xenia and Marcland remained silent—they weren't involved in the preparations. It was Kreese who answered, her voice calm, "My part is complete. It can be activated at any time."
Samda followed, "The formation I've been laying out is nearly finished."
The Clown's hollow gaze fixed on him. "When will it be finished?"
Samda hesitated. "Six months."
A chilling pressure suddenly weighed down on him as the Clown's aura shifted, heavy and oppressive.
"No—no, three months," Samda quickly corrected himself.
"I want it completed in two," the Clown said flatly.
Samda bowed, voice trembling, "Yes, I will try."
The Clown's tone sharpened, "I do not want you to try. I want it done. If not, I'll assign a new commander for the Golden Continent."
Samda shook his head quickly. "No, no—I'll finish it in two months. I swear."
He couldn't afford to be removed from his post. When the world was finally conquered and sacrificed to the Nightmare Will, blessings would be distributed according to one's merit. As the commander of the Golden Continent, it was far easier to accumulate those merits. His current realm was quasi Second Tier—he had already forged his exclusive magic power. Now, he only needed to raise his energy level from Tier 1 to Tier 2 and break the physical and spiritual barriers holding him back.
With his limited talent, he knew quasi Tier 1 might be his ceiling. Advancing to Tier 2 would likely only be possible with the blessing of the Nightmare Will. That blessing depended on his position—and the merits he could gather.
He had to hold on to his role.
The Clown nodded slowly. "Good."
Then Marcland spoke, his voice low, "Clown, isn't this plan too hasty?"
Xenia added, "We can take it slow. Capture more nodes, strengthen our foothold. If we activate the plan now and it fails… we may lose our only chance to conquer this world."
The Clown's sad voice echoed softly, "Do you think I want to rush it? But rumors are spreading in this region… that the Evil Supreme has acquired the coordinates of a Middle World. The invasion could begin at any time—and every force in this region may be called to join."
At the mention of the Middle World, all four figures stirred. Their faces lit up with anticipation—then slowly soured as they imagined what it would mean for them.
Marcland asked, "Clown, are you certain?"
The Clown nodded. "Rosie herself told me."
The moment her name was spoken, the others fell silent. Rosie was the founder and strongest member of the Greyrose Circus. Her energy level had already reached Tier 4. If she advanced to Tier 5, she'd begin preparations for a Tier 3 breakthrough—gaining a voice strong enough to challenge entire regions.
The Clown continued, "You all know… when it comes to conquering a Middle World, Tier 1 and Tier 2 cultivators are cannon fodder. But if Rosie reaches Tier 3, she'll have the authority to form her own independent army. We won't be treated like disposable pawns."
Xenia nodded, "Rosie inherited the legacy of the Grey King. With that, her magic power will soon evolve into divine power. And with the resources from the inheritance, her energy will rise to divine energy as well."
The Clown's voice turned grim, "Which is why this world is no longer just a mission. It's a life-and-death situation. We must conquer it within ten years of this world's time."
Kreese frowned, doing the calculation. "That's only one month in Nightmare World time…"
She spoke aloud, "Then, once Samda completes the formation in two months, we should activate it immediately. Open the gateway wide enough for reinforcements—and for the two leaders to descend."
The Clown nodded. "Yes."
Then he turned to Samda. From his hollow sockets, dark fire flickered.
"Samda… if the formation isn't complete in two months…" His voice dropped lower, "I don't know what I'll do to you."
Samda stiffened and nodded quickly.
Marcland then said, "Do you need help? I can send some of my men."
Samda snorted. He knew Marcland was looking to steal some merit.
"No need," he replied coldly.
Marcland smirked, "Then if you fail to finish the formation in two months… I'll kill you myself."
Just as Samda opened his mouth to respond, the Clown cut in, "Enough of your bickering. I want the corpse of a Spirit King."
The room fell silent. The four looked at each other before replying one after another.
"It's difficult."
"Our numbers are nearly equal to theirs."
"No, their numbers have started surpassing ours. As the invasion dragged on, many of them advanced to the Spirit King realm, and after the gate closed, we received no reinforcements—aside from your descent."
"We're still suppressed by this world… it's hard to kill them."
"And if we try to besiege a Spirit King, others will come to their aid."
"In short, only you are capable of killing a Spirit King."
The Clown's voice darkened, "If I'd known I needed one, I would have taken a corpse when I killed those three—before they self-destructed like cowards."
Xenia tilted her head, "Why do you need a Spirit King corpse, Clown? If there's another way, we can help you find it."
The Clown paused. Then he spoke slowly, "To heal my injuries, I began absorbing the bones of creatures from this world. I found that the Nightmare World's aura… is suppressed, hidden beneath the energy of this realm."
He took a breath through the holes in his mask. Wind whistled through his bony frame.
"If I can absorb the bones of a Spirit King from this world, the suppression will ease. I'll regain quasi–Second Tier strength. With that… our odds of conquering this world jump to 90%."
"Ten percent is for the unexpected. If nothing changes, and Rosie and Zilian descend, the conquest will be inevitable."
Xenia nodded thoughtfully, "So the Nightmare World's aura can be cloaked by the world's blessing. If you absorb the bones of someone blessed by this realm…"
Samda added, "And now that the world is in crisis, the Will of the World is blessing every cultivator who defends it."
Xenia said, "I know. I've received a report from the Sacred Continent—there's a Spirit Lord strong enough to fight a newly promoted Spirit King."
Marcland raised a brow, "Who?"
"Someone named Kanoru."
The Clown froze. The name stirred something in his memory—the boy who once escaped him. Even if he'd been slacking that day, the boy shouldn't have escaped. But he had.
The Clown leaned forward, "Tell me everything."
Xenia relayed all the information she had.
The Clown murmured, "With his talent… and the blessing of the world… he should have reached the Spirit King realm by now."
Samda frowned, "Then why hide it?"
Kreese said softly, "He's waiting. He wants to kill Morcel."
Xenia offered, "Then I'll go kill him. I'll bring back his body."
The Clown shook his head, "Do you even know where he is? You'll need to strike in an instant—if you miss, others will come to his aid."
Xenia replied, "After assassinating Morcel, he vanished. But once Morcel appears again, he'll come out."
The Clown considered. "Then we wait. Once Samda finishes the formation, have Morcel attack. I'll handle the boy myself."
Xenia scowled, "There's no need for you. I can kill him."
The Clown stared at her. "No. For Samda and Kreese to carry out their parts, I'll need to draw the attention of the other Spirit Kings. Killing Kanoru accomplishes three things—eliminates a threat, gives me the bones I need, and creates the perfect diversion for Rosie and Zilian to descend."
He paused, then waved a bony hand. "You may all go."
The four virtual projections flickered and vanished.
The Clown stepped down from his throne and walked out of the hall. His footsteps echoed on the cold stone floor as he left the castle behind, heading toward the Black Hill region.
"That boy made a fool of me last time," he murmured. "Let's see how he escapes from my real body."
-----
Kanoru remained seated in the Ice House, completely unaware of the danger silently closing in on him. Deep in meditation, his consciousness was immersed within his spiritual space, where dozens of runes hovered like stars in a quiet sky.
He was shifting their positions again, fine-tuning the balance of his elements.
He'd finally understood why his control over the Steam and Devouring Water elements was still lacking. The issue lay in the arrangement of his elemental runes—he had placed all his Water runes on one side, Fire runes on the other, and Wind runes in the middle to connect them. That structure worked for alien energies tied to Wind because Wind was neutral, able to harmonize with both extremes. But Steam and Devouring Water weren't built on Wind—they were the fusion of Fire and Water, two elements that naturally opposed each other.
His current layout just didn't support that kind of fusion.
Now, inside his spiritual space, he began rearranging. The alien energies infused with Wind worked fine—those runes stayed where they were. But for Steam and Devouring Water, he needed to replicate the structure they had in nature. They weren't just hybrids; they were born from true fusion.
Yet, every time he tried to link Fire and Water directly, they repelled each other.
He struggled for a long time. No matter how he tried to force the connection, the runes either destabilized or simply refused to bind. Eventually, he stopped and closed his spiritual eyes, thinking it through.
The world can combine Fire and Water into Steam… so why can't I?
And then he realized—what was blocking him wasn't the runes themselves, but his understanding of the elements. Wind worked easily because it didn't conflict with either side. But Fire and Water… they were opposites. His current approach was too shallow, too broad.
He was thinking at a macro scale—treating each elemental rune as a whole. But what if he took the opposite approach?
Kanoru opened his eyes in his spiritual space and studied the Fire and Water runes again. These weren't Tier-0 spell runes; they were full elemental runes—complete, complex, and rigid. However, the spell runes that Tier-0 cultivators learned were just fragments, simplified pieces of the true runes.
If I break the elemental runes into their fundamental spell runes… maybe I can reconstruct a bridge between them.
His plan was set.
Instead of forcing a connection between two complete and incompatible elements, he would dismantle them—reduce them to spell runes—then slowly test combinations to see which ones harmonized. Maybe, just maybe, at the micro level, Fire and Water could merge.
And if they could… then Steam, Devouring Water, and even new fused elements might become his to command.