One Million Merits

Gladys, Silas, and Dengba could see that Belok's trio had been considerably weakened — they had no intention of letting such an opportunity slip by.

Each of them played their trump cards. Flames erupted across Gladys's entire body, even her dark-red hair transforming into living fire, her aura surging dramatically. Around Silas, constellations of stars swirled in orbit while threads of white light pulsed across the surface of his battle armor, his own power swelling with equal force. Across Dengba's body, dark runes blazed into existence — his aura climbing a full notch above even his two companions.

With their trump cards unleashed, all three launched their most powerful Combat Techniques and pressed the assault.

Dengba's hand clenched. Within the Shadow Sacred Domain, a black-gold lightning arm materialized — denser and more powerful than before — and crashed down toward Belok.

Stars swirled within Silas's eyes, Mu Jing's reflection captured in their depths. Around Mu Jing, space warped and constellations materialized one by one; gravity shifted, waves of attraction and repulsion rippling outward, every force converging upon his body at once.

Dark-red flames roared across Gladys as an enormous fire bird coalesced behind her once more. It had grown an additional pair of wings compared to before, its aura several times more ferocious. With a piercing shriek, it hurled itself at Bridge.

Having already endured hundreds of Shadow Clones striking simultaneously with Hand of Death, Mu Jing, Bridge, and Belok had all been significantly drained. Under normal circumstances they might have been able to weather these strikes head-on — but now, watching those attacks bear down on them, the color drained from their faces.

There was no time to think. Green flames erupted across all three of them, gray-white mist bleeding from their bodies as they scrambled to both deflect the incoming strikes and dodge clear.

**Boom. Boom. Boom.**

The explosions rang out. Under the force of the shockwaves, cracks spiderwebbed across the Shadow Sacred Domain as if it might shatter at any moment.

The Apostles fared no better. Under the three Battle Saints' combined assault, all of them took wounds — their faces pale, injuries carved deep into their bodies. Their auras dimmed considerably.

The moment their auras faltered, Shadow Clones reached out toward them once more.

Hand of Death engulfed all three Apostles again. Their faces went ashen, wounds tore deeper, and even their core capabilities began to erode. Their expressions turned truly ugly.

At full strength, the curse effect of Hand of Death couldn't touch them beyond a negligible degree — but wounded and diminished as they were now, they found themselves unable to fully resist it, and the damage it inflicted was far greater than before.

Belok let out a guttural roar. His green-lava-like armor writhed as his body swelled again — from a hundred meters to nearly a kilometer in height — his aura surging back to immense levels, even temporarily suppressing the effects of Hand of Death.

Sensing that resurgent power, Dengba's gaze sharpened. Both his heads wore identical expressions of grim focus as he watched Belok warily.

Then Belok let out a furious roar — and turned to run.

Dengba blinked. One of his heads bellowed:

"Coward!"

He launched himself after him.

In the wake of Belok's eruption, Mu Jing's Scale Armor fell away, his single horn retracted, and his skin grew withered and ancient — yet his aura climbed sharply. With a low growl, the star phantoms surrounding him shattered, fresh wounds opening across his body. A moment later, he too turned to flee.

The Star Dwarf Silas had no intention of letting a Heavenly Calamity Cult Saint escape. He charged forward, layering gravity, attraction, and repulsion upon Mu Jing, starlight blazing across his body as he prepared to summon another constellation phantom.

On the other side, the Kaman Saint Bridge had green flames blazing in his eyes. Dark-red fire coated much of his body, and charred scorch marks had been seared into his flesh — all of it courtesy of that terrifying fire bird, whose piercing cries tore through the air with each strike, igniting a sea of flames with every pass.

Sensing that both Mu Jing and Belok were attempting to flee, Bridge followed suit without hesitation. The green flames in his eyes blazed hotter, threads of green fire erupting across his entire body until he resembled a walking torch. The dark-red flames that had been burning on his skin were consumed and replaced by the advancing green fire. His speed erupted, and he burst free of the fire bird's range, tanking several waves of flame as he shot off into the distance.

But at that very moment, dark power rippled outward, dulling the three Apostles' perception directly ahead of them. Simultaneously, the space around all three of them trembled — and before any of them could react, they found themselves back in front of their respective opponents.

*Spatial Transfer.*

For Lu Yuan, wielding spatial force offensively required the law-level manipulation of space that only a Saint-grade Spatial Type Transcendent Gene could provide. But his own Spatial Walker gene specialized in spatial transfer above all else — moving three Saints was well within his reach, especially when none of them possessed any spatial power of their own.

The three Apostles, already mid-flight, froze completely when they realized they had abruptly materialized in front of their opponents.

It wasn't just Belok's group — Dengba's trio was equally dumbstruck.

All six stood staring at each other, blank expressions still on their faces, none quite processing how their enemies had reappeared right before them. After a stunned moment, all six simultaneously stepped back, eyeing their respective opponents with lingering wariness.

*Whoever this mysterious person is, they're supposedly on our side,* Gladys thought, suppressing a groan, *but that little trick is terrifying.* If Belok's group had turned and struck in that moment of confusion, even the three of them would have been hard-pressed to handle it.

It wasn't just Gladys — Dengba and Silas were casting equally wary glances at their surroundings, both half-afraid of being caught in the crossfire.

The first to act wasn't any of those six — it was the Shadow Clones.

They appeared without warning and struck all three Apostles with Hand of Death simultaneously. Despite their momentary surge of power, all three shuddered — their auras lurched, wounds tearing open again, leaving them considerably diminished.

Despair flickered across Mu Jing's and the others' eyes.

They had believed escape was within reach — only to be dragged back by spatial force. Any further attempt to flee now seemed hopeless.

Their expressions shifted, something vicious hardening in their faces. They launched a desperate counterattack against the charging Gladys, Silas, and Dengba.

Thunder rolled through the air. Shockwaves tore in every direction, the Shadow Sacred Domain pulsing with each exchange as though on the verge of collapse. But with Shadow Clones relentlessly applying Hand of Death between every clash, it only took a handful of exchanges before Mu Jing's group grew visibly weaker with every passing moment.

Before long, Gladys's trio finished them off.

After the kills, the three Battle Saints let out a slow breath — but didn't relax. Their eyes swept the surroundings.

The Star Dwarf Silas spoke up with an easy smile:

"Friend, why not come out and meet us? Without your help, I doubt we could have kept those three Apostles from escaping."

His words echoed through the Shadow Sacred Domain — but no reply came. One by one the Shadow Clones dissolved into wisps of black mist, and then the Sacred Domain itself dispersed along with them.

The Dark Night Forest reappeared around Gladys and the others — green flames still burning everywhere they looked.

The three of them scanned the dark forest and fell into silence.

After a moment, Dengba drew a deep breath and spoke:

"Who in the world was that?"

Silas's deep-blue eyes flickered as he thought it through. "Dark power, death power, and spatial power — each of them strong enough to be Saint-level Combat Techniques at minimum. Our friend is definitely a Saint. But a Human Race Saint wielding all three at once..." He shook his head slowly. "I've never encountered one."

Gladys shook her head as well. "I haven't either. Though... they don't all have to be Combat Techniques. Using Gene Armaments and special Talismans of equivalent grade can sometimes produce similar results."

Silas considered that, then gave a small nod. "True... which makes tracking down this Saint all the more difficult."

Dengba scratched one of his heads, puzzled. "Then why wouldn't our friend show themselves? What did they think we'd do to them?"

Gladys and Silas exchanged a glance. Neither could come up with an answer, and both shook their heads.

Gladys smiled. "Who knows? They probably have reasons they'd rather not share. Still — we owe that friend a genuine debt of gratitude. Without them, Dark Night City might not have held."

Silas nodded in agreement. "That much is certainly true."

He glanced at the bodies on the ground, watching them slowly crumble to ash. His brow furrowed slightly.

"How did those three Apostles even get in here? As Corrupted beings, they shouldn't be able to enter the Land of Origin."

Gladys and Dengba went quiet as well.

After a moment, Dengba shook both his heads, and one of them spoke:

"We should notify the other Saints and the War Gods. Something big may be brewing again."

"At this rate..." Silas let out a heavy sigh. "We're running out of time."

Outside Dark Night City.

Lu Yuan exhaled slowly, a faint glimmer of deep black light passing through his eyes.

*Finally over.*

He checked his own state. His Spirit Power had taken a significant hit, but since he'd been replenishing it throughout, it was still within manageable limits. Once those three Battle Saints had arrived to share the burden, he no longer had to hold off all three Apostles alone — things had become considerably easier.

Just then, a message from the Land of Origin's will surfaced in his mind. His expression changed — genuine astonishment flickered across his face.

For sealing the Spatial Rift, contributing to the deaths of three Heavenly Calamity Apostles, and killing a group of Battle Emperor-level Heavenly Calamity Cult members, the Land of Origin's will had awarded him a staggering eight hundred and fifty thousand Merits.

The lion's share came from sealing the Spatial Rift alone — five hundred thousand.

Killing each of the three Apostles had earned him a hundred thousand apiece, with the remaining kills contributing roughly fifty thousand more.

*That...*

*That's a lot of Merits.*

Lu Yuan was genuinely stunned.

Normally, even a Saint-grade Aberration Feral Beast wouldn't net a hundred thousand Merits. Following the usual scale, an Emperor-grade Aberration was only worth a few thousand — so a Saint-grade should be worth tens of thousands at most.

*Is it because they were Heavenly Calamity Apostles? Some kind of bonus multiplier?*

*They were essentially illegal entrants into the Land of Origin, after all.*

*And if that's the case, the Spatial Rift probably carried a bonus too — it was their smuggling route.*

He was fairly confident his reasoning was sound.

Combined with all the Aberration Feral Beasts he'd hunted during the Beast Tide, his total Merits were approaching one million.

A muscle twitched at the corner of Lu Yuan's mouth.

*Who would have thought — the first time I left Sky-Mending City just to get a feel for things out here, I'd end up with this many Merits.*

*With this much... I can buy so many good things.*

While he was turning this over in his mind, Li Qinghe's voice drifted over from behind him, laced with concern:

"Yuan, are you alright? Do you need to rest?"

Lu Yuan snapped back to the present and turned. Li Qinghe, Shuangyue, and Si Tingyu had all finished fighting and were watching him with varying degrees of worry.

He smiled. "I'm fine, don't worry. How are all of you?"

Li Qinghe smiled and was about to reply when all three of them simultaneously froze, their eyes going wide.

Lu Yuan gave them a quizzical look. "What's wrong?"

The three came back to themselves. Li Qinghe looked at him with a bewildered expression:

"...Yuan, didn't you receive one too? A message from the Land of Origin's will."

Si Tingyu nodded. "I received one as well."

Shuangyue chimed in, equally surprised. "Me too."

Lu Yuan went very still.

A bad feeling crept into his chest. "...What did it say?"

Si Tingyu spoke up: "It said that for the sealing of the Spatial Rift and the killing of Heavenly Calamity Apostles and Cult members, we've each been allocated ten thousand Merits — based on the minimum guaranteed distribution of the reward mechanism."

Her face was creased with puzzlement. "Sealing a Spatial Rift? Killing Apostles? When did we do any of that?"

Li Qinghe nodded slowly. "I got ten thousand as well. But weren't we just here fighting Aberration Feral Beasts to hold back the Beast Tide the whole time?"

Shuangyue nodded with the same baffled expression. "Same — ten thousand for me." She looked at Lu Yuan. "What about you, Yuan? And do you know anything about this Spatial Rift and Apostle business?"

Lu Yuan said nothing.

He felt faintly as though the ground had dropped out from under him.

His plan had always been to cultivate in peace — at minimum until he reached Battle Emperor rank, with all his genes evolved to Divine Grade. At that point, not even a War God could threaten him, and if his evolutionary ability came to light then, so be it.

But right now he was only Battle Sovereign. And while he could hold his own against Saints without much fear of defeat, facing an actual War God was another matter — even he felt a flutter of unease at that prospect. *War Gods can wield the power of laws, after all.*

*And now the Land of Origin's will decides to turn traitor on me?*

*Who told it to distribute Merits based on contribution with a minimum guarantee for party members?*

*If I'd known, I never would have sealed that Spatial Rift.*

Lu Yuan suppressed a wave of profound exasperation, cleared his throat, and said:

"My Merits might be... just a little more than yours."