The newcomer was half-human, half-fish: tentacles for hair writhing in agitation, yet her face almost eerily human—features delicate, framed by panic. Her deep blue pupils glowed faintly in the dim light.

  “Mother… it’s awake! My team—they were devoured!”

  The Fish Mother showed no alarm, as though every thread of chaos wove precisely into her design. She surveyed the cavern’s twenty-odd fish demons—large and small, malformed and frail.

  Disappointment shadowed her gaze. When it settled once more on the human boy, she sensed the dormant power coiled within him: a threat, raw and immense.

  That force stirred unease in her. Only by sacrificing him alongside these flawed spawn could she preserve the fragile balance of the Black Sea domain.

  She coughed delicately. At the sound, dislodged stones clattered from the ceiling amid the unexplained tremors.

  The demons clustered in frantic knots, awaiting her command.

  “Children,” she declared, voice steady, “this is a moment of life or death. The sea demon invades—defend our territory!”

  “For the territory! For the Mother!”

  The male human-faced demon roared first, rallying the others.

  Weapons rose—misshapen, rusted blades crusted with moss and dripping corrosion.

  The impacts grew thunderous. Seawater surged inward, waves churning in violent froth.

  Timo Yang, still piecing together the madness, had no time to react.

  A colossal wave crashed over him. From its crest erupted a massive tentacle—thick as a tree trunk, studded with pulsing suckers.

  It slammed across the entrance, sealing it, then whipped inward with blinding speed.

  The demons’ bravado shattered. Moments ago swollen with fervor, they scattered in terror.

  A few human-faced warriors gathered essence to strike—only to freeze at the Mother’s sharp gesture.

  They watched helplessly as the front rank vanished, swept into the depths.

  One black tentacle withdrew; another followed instantly, lashing across the ledge. The vanguard was gone—swallowed whole.

  As the survivors retreated, the bone-fork-wielding mermaid lunged forward, intent on churning the waters to halt the assault.

  The Mother seized her arm.

  “Stay put. Or I’ll offer you to the Lord of the Black Sea as tribute.”

  The mermaid shrank back at once, returning to her side.

  “Mother, we can’t hold! Save us!”

  The plea rose from the fleeing remnants as another tentacle struck.

  They neared the inner cavern—salvation so close—when the Mother extended a hand.

  An invisible pressure wave barred their path.

  The last few demons, dragged into the maw, believed until the end that she sacrificed them only to protect the domain.

  High above, three leaner, more potent demons stood their ground.

  Though frail in frame, they summoned frost essence. As the tentacle returned, they unleashed volleys of ice spears.

  One massive shard pierced deep. Black blood welled from the wound.

  A bellow echoed from beyond—furious, earth-shaking. Waters roiled anew. A tidal surge flooded half the cavern.

  Far above, the half-wild man—out foraging once more—heard the roar. He swung to a higher perch, gazing toward the blackened reefs.

  He guessed the boy from yesterday had already fed the sea demon.

  Memories flooded him: the campaign with comrades against those horrors. Only he, mid-tier dual essence, had survived. He would never forget the beasts of that cursed sea.

  The roaring persisted.

  Behind a hastily raised ice barrier, the three demons sheltered.

  One segment of tentacle froze solid. The spiked-armor demon leapt from above, smashing down upon it.

  The appendage severed at the base. Black blood poured into the water, turning the surface inky.

  The seasoned demons cheered at the apparent victory.

  The wounded sea demon retracted hastily. Silence fell.

  But it was no defeat—far from it.

  Submerged, the creature gathered momentum, building a monstrous wave for a final assault.

  After seconds of eerie calm, the remnants felt the surge.

  A cataclysmic boom.

  The entrance collapsed entirely. Debris rode the flood inward.

  Through the ice wall, the demons glimpsed what lay beyond the rubble: a cavernous maw lined with jagged fangs.

  The barrier shattered.

  Countless tentacles surged into the depths, rending stone. Soon the entire cavern lay exposed to the colossal sea demon’s gaze.

  The Mother knew the end approached. These few remaining spawn showed some fight—yet paled beside her elite human-faced warriors.

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  “Children,” she called, “our home rests upon you now. Whoever repels this demon—I will elevate to high-tier beast!”

  Elevation meant evolution—shapeshifting into forms like her prized warriors, commanding universal respect.

  At the promise, the hidden demons rallied. Ice spears, flames, earthen spikes erupted as they charged.

  Yet the tentacles were endless—one severed, another replaced.

  Timo Yang, crouched behind a boulder, risked a glance—and drew the monster’s notice.

  A tentacle lashed toward him.

  Wind essence flared instinctively. He dodged with unnatural agility, landing on a higher ledge.

  The moss-slick stone betrayed him; he teetered on the brink of the flooding waters.

  In panic, he grasped blindly—and seized something solid.

  Turning, he found the Ugly Bastard crammed into a narrow crevice.

  “Ugly Bastard—let me in!”

  The creature tried to yield space, but the gap was too tight. It even attempted to shake him off.

  “You’re the mighty one, Little Mongrel—find your own hiding spot!”

  Timo Yang clung tighter to its stumpy leg, steadying himself.

  Once balanced, he wedged in regardless—only to be distracted as the battle below enraged the beast further.

  It opened its vast jaws. Suction roared forth—drawing in debris, seawater, even barnacles and seaweed clinging to the walls.

  Timo Yang, clinging desperately to his lifeline, refused to release even as the Ugly Bastard bit him.

  In their struggle, neither escaped the inexorable pull.

  Both tumbled into the sea demon’s gaping mouth.

  From the inner cavern, the male human-faced demon paced, watching through the pressure wave as the maw loomed.

  With the Mother’s strength—and her elite guards—they could have driven off this mere juvenile.

  Seeing every sibling devoured, he could bear it no longer.

  “Mother… those were our brothers and sisters! Why didn’t you save them? You called that human monster your child too—we could have saved him!”

  The Fish Mother watched the beast linger even after consuming the failures.

  Its enormous green-veined eyes fixed upon the inner cavern. Waters rose steadily, lapping at the barrier’s edge—then parted mysteriously around it.

  “I did not refuse to save them,” she said calmly. “I lacked the power. That Little Mongrel proved no more than the rest. He carried immense strength—I would not risk it. Better to feed the child of the Black Sea Lord.”

  Her words barely faded when the frenzied demon spotted the energy spring within.

  It withdrew briefly—then charged, propelled by the full force of its gathered wave, straight for the heart of the lair.

  “Its temper grows ever more savage,” the Fish Mother murmured. “Enough. We withdraw—for now. This lair is lost.”

  At her signal, the remaining human-faced demons leapt with her into the churning green pool. Ripples spread, then stilled. They were gone.

  The sea demon’s colossal bulk hurtled forward. As it neared the pressure barrier, the wave dissolved. Unhindered, it plunged into the emerald fluid.

  Its maw gaped wide. A sweeping tongue drank the pool dry in gulps—larvae and all devoured without remnant.

  The severed tentacle regenerated instantly; wounded limbs knit anew. The beast swelled larger, visibly engorged by the feast.

  Sated, it thrashed the inundating seawater, gathering force. A deafening shriek unleashed sound waves that whipped the floods into frenzy.

  With a surge of power, it shot outward amid torrents of bubbles.

  The cavern crumbled entirely behind it—stones shattering, walls collapsing. All was swallowed by the sea. The demon vanished into abyssal dark.

  Within its gut, Timo Yang tumbled amid debris and flailing fish demons, sliding inexorably down the vast esophagus.

  He skidded along slick, pulsing walls, glimpsing far below the cavernous stomach—yellow-green acids roiling like molten rock, bubbling with acrid vapors.

  Some demons thrashed half-dissolved; others had already melted away. Their spirit essence streamed upward, absorbed wholly by the beast.

  Even yuan-rich ore in the stones dissolved in that caustic tide.

  Timo Yang summoned wind essence desperately, slowing his descent—but the mucus-coated passage offered no purchase.

  Glancing about, he heard crashing waves above. Looking up, he saw the Ugly Bastard and a few seasoned fighters clinging to the walls, claws buried deep in flesh.

  Then the esophagus contracted.

  A surge of emerald fluid cascaded down like a tidal bore.

  Timo Yang reached instinctively—only to grasp empty air as the others were swept away.

  “This is it…” he whispered as he plummeted toward the acid.

  The stench hit first—overwhelming, eye-watering rot.

  Tears streamed down his face; retching rose in his throat.

  But before he could vomit, searing heat bloomed across his skin. Flesh blistered, sloughing away in agony that tore screams from his lungs.

  “Ah!”

  In that instant, the red gem in his pocket resonated with his essence. Crimson light erupted once more—blinding, fierce.

  The Ugly Bastard’s bulging eyes widened. Claws rending flesh, it scrambled upward at frantic speed.

  Deep below, the sea demon—belly full, bound for its territory—suddenly convulsed in unforeseen torment.

  Tentacles flailed uncontrollably. Waters churned in chaos.

  It veered sharply toward the surface, desperate for air.

  Life and essence ebbed away. Breaching the waves, it tried to expel the poison within—but nothing came.

  Beaching itself in stumbling agony, its vast pupils dulled to ash-gray.

  It died unknowing, body withering rapidly into a desiccated husk long dead.

  Just then, a blur of motion—stumpy legs trailing phantom shadows.

  The Ugly Bastard shot free in the final heartbeat before death claimed the beast.

  Only when the crimson glow faded did it dare halt, perched high, chest heaving.

  It had scarcely caught breath when a towering shadow blocked its path.

  The half-wild man lifted the creature effortlessly by the scruff.

  It kicked futilely, babbling in surrender.

  From the corpse rose powerful streams of white essence.

  The demon’s belly heaved once more.

  A figure emerged on a gust of wind—Timo Yang, landing lightly on the sand.

  Every wisp of energy flowed into him.

  “Ah…”

  His roar split the air. Invisible blades of force scarred the atmosphere.

  The sea demon’s remains shredded in a silent explosion of force.

  Waves surged higher, crashing in turmoil.

  “This boy lives still.”

  Admiration stirred in the half-wild man’s chest.

  Heedless of the Ugly Bastard—now playing dead—he tossed it aside.

  Swinging through branches, he dropped to the beach, wary eyes fixed on the child.

  Timo Yang absorbed the last essence and felt reborn—power boundless within him.

  His hearing sharpened beyond before; he caught the half-wild man’s approach.

  Before the figure fully emerged, Timo Yang turned.

  “I… remember you.”

  He started to speak—then pain lanced through his skull.

  A vision flashed: Yue Yang beneath heavenly thunder, judged and broken.

  What is this? Who is she? What ties us?

  Confusion flooded him. He scanned the shore—then fixed on a shimmering distortion in the air: a rift of energy.

  The half-wild man followed his gaze and stared in shock.

  So young—and he sees the Trial Realm already.

  Breakthrough. This child teeters on the edge. Yesterday he held no such power.

  Timo Yang turned back. The disheveled half-wild man stood before him now.

  He nodded once, palm rough and open. With a finger he traced words in the sand.

  Trial Realm?

  Timo Yang hesitated, uncertain.

  “It seems so. I saw… another me.”

  Enter. Break through to one-yuan realm—become a true essence wielder. Only then can you hope to survive. I will stand guard.

  At those words, Timo Yang approached the rippling field and stepped within.

  He vanished.

  The half-wild man summoned tri-colored essence, drawing sea mist inland until thick fog veiled the entire coastline.

  Timo Yang reached out tentatively. Inside the rift, a mirror-self raised its hand in perfect synchrony.

  Contact.

  They merged.

  He fell endlessly—dizzy, disoriented.

  The Ugly Bastard’s final gurgling lament faded behind him.

  Vertigo passed.

  Timo Yang opened his eyes to gentle warmth.

  Stone walls, cozy and familiar. A family portrait hung nearby.

  Curious, he toddled closer—legs short, steps unsteady.

  A mirror revealed the truth: he was a child no older than three.

  Before wonder could settle, footsteps sounded outside.

  Excitement surged.

  “Daddy’s home!”

  The toddler Timo Yang cried joyfully.

  From the kitchen rushed a woman—his mother—and a young girl, his sister.

  The girl flung open the door.

  “Daddy!”

  Little Yue Yang buried herself in their father’s battle robes.

  Timo Yang followed, clinging tight.

  “Commander Yang,” his wife asked softly, “are you confident this campaign?”

  Lingfeng Yang scooped both children into his arms—tender, resolute.

  “I must be. For our children… and for my beautiful wife, I must.”

  Canglan Ji’s smile bloomed radiant.

  He drew her close. The family embraced as one.

  “Commander Yang, Deacon Ji—the ancestral rite awaits. All is prepared.”

  The messenger was the dark-skinned, shaven-headed man from the Iron Law—though in this moment, he had not yet risen to adjudicator.

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