“Dante, Nash—take her down. I’ll handle the rest.”

  “Got it. Be careful!”

  The two men charged.

  Under the influence of the Ice Domain, their cultivation surged from early Core Formation to mid-Core Formation, narrowing the gap between them and the wounded Mermaid.

  The white-haired creature, now an ancient husk, no longer had her scales or her unnatural allure. For two battle-hardened cultivators, fighting her was far easier now than before.

  And even though her attacks hit harder, both men were well-prepared. The armor they wore gleamed faintly with protective runes—expensive, enchanted, and durable. At worst, they’d just need to repair them once they got back to Thunder Sect.

  The old Mermaid’s rage boiled. She screeched, grabbing one of her surviving kin and dragging the younger Mermaid in front of her to block the incoming blows.

  “Pathetic,” Lauren muttered.

  Even stripped of her scales, the white-haired hag was surrounded by plenty of others still covered in them—and the clock was ticking. Her Ice Domain wouldn’t hold for long.

  So she took a deep breath, gathering the frigid energy in her core, and unleashed it.

  Frost swept across the battlefield.

  In an instant, every Mermaid caught within range froze solid, turned into crystal-white sculptures of ice and terror.

  The effort hit Lauren hard—her limbs trembled, her breath came ragged—but she held her ground.

  “Hurry up, both of you!” she shouted, her voice echoing through the frozen mist.

  That was all they needed.

  Nash dropped into position, pressing his palms to the ground. The sigils under his hands blazed to life, spreading in a ring of golden earthlight.

  An Earth-Based Trapping Formation.

  The ground heaved. Stone and sand twisted upward, forming a cage that locked around the white-haired Mermaid.

  She thrashed, shrieking, but couldn’t break free.

  Nash gritted his teeth, sweat beading down his temple. “I can hold it—three breaths, no more!”

  “That’s all we need!” Dante roared, raising his hammer.

  The three breaths began.

  At that moment, Dante fused his spiritual energy with his weapon. A massive golden sword manifested above him, gleaming like divine judgment, and in the next instant, it came crashing down from the sky—piercing straight through the white-haired Mermaid’s skull.

  Her scream was ear-splitting, sharp enough to split the clouds. Then her body convulsed once—and went still.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  The white-haired Mermaid was finally dead.

  Almost immediately, Lauren’s formation plate dimmed and cracked apart, the four high-grade spirit stones powering it crumbling into fine ash.

  Damn it.

  She had thought her fifth-grade Explosive Spirit Talisman would be enough to deal with this mess. Instead, she’d burned through four high-grade spirit stones just to survive.

  Still, it was over. The battlefield reeked of salt, blood, and the faint metallic tang of spent spiritual energy.

  Countless Mermaids lay dead or wounded, their remaining kin fleeing in panic toward the sea. None of them had the strength—or the will—to chase.

  Lauren dropped to the ground beside Nash and Dante, every muscle trembling from exhaustion.

  From the distance, Westin stumbled toward them, looking half-dead himself. He gagged with every step, and though he hadn’t eaten for days, he kept dry-heaving until he finally vomited bile.

  “Westin,” Lauren called softly.

  He stopped a few feet away, panting, pale as a ghost. Even from there, the stench rolling off him was enough to make everyone’s stomach turn.

  He raised a shaky hand. “Ms.Lauren … don’t come any closer. Ugh—”

  Lauren grimaced. She’d killed one Mermaid before—she knew just how foul they smelled when dead.

  And Westin, poor bastard, had been the one holding the line, trapping dozens of male Mermaids in his Wood Domain.

  That wasn’t a battle. That was a baptism in rot.

  She reached into her storage pouch and tossed him a small crystal vial. “This is the floral dew I used as a fasting substitute before I formed my core. Try using it on yourself.”

  Westin uncorked it immediately, inhaling the scent like a man starved for air. The clean, sweet fragrance cut through the fishy stench instantly. He splashed the dew onto his skin and sighed in relief.

  He had already changed clothes and used cleansing spells several times, all to no effect. But this—this finally worked.

  “Any more?” he asked weakly.

  Lauren tossed him two more bottles. By the time he finished all three, the air around him finally smelled human again.

  Nash, who had nearly had his heart ripped out earlier, looked ready to complain, but after glancing at Westin’s pitiful state, he shut his mouth.

  It was nearly dawn now.

  A pale band of light was spreading across the horizon.

  After taking a few Restoring Spirit Pills, their strength gradually returned, and the group began cleaning up the battlefield.

  The island was littered with hundreds of Mermaid corpses, each one containing a beast core.

  When Lauren started collecting them, the others didn’t hesitate—they simply handed over the ones they found.

  The inner cores were useful, but the scales were far more valuable. Mermaid scales were prized materials for armor and protective formations. Whether handed to Thunder Sect or sold privately, they could fetch a fortune in spirit stones.

  Mermaids above the fourth rank also had Mermaid Pearls—and among all the corpses, only the white-haired one had one.

  It was a rare treasure, shimmering faintly with a soft blue glow. Worth a small fortune in the outside world—but none of them seemed to care much.

  They all agreed to give it to Westin, who had endured the worst of the fight.

  No one knew how much spiritual power it had cost Lauren to sustain her Ice Domain—but Westin’s expression alone said enough. Even now, he still looked sickly pale and occasionally gagged at phantom smells.

  The trauma, it seemed, wasn’t going away anytime soon.

  Meanwhile, the blood from the slain Mermaids was being collected as well. When properly refined, it could be turned into cinnabar—an important base for high-grade talisman crafting.

  Certain rare talismans required exotic ingredients—monster blood, bones, pearls, even spiritual marrow.

  Lauren, lately, had been too busy with her Explosive Spirit Talismans to gather other materials. She hadn’t made time for the delicate art of creating functional, specialized talismans.

  But with this haul—cores, scales, blood— she suddenly had more than enough resources to start again.

  “This one’s called a Fishwife’s Eyeball. Good stuff. Dig them all out, grind them into powder, and smear it over your eyelids. It’ll break through most illusions.”

  Nash raised a brow and smirked. “Brother Dante sure knows a lot.”

  Dante shot him a look. “If you have spare time, stop flirting with the junior sisters and spend it in the library. You’d actually learn something.”

  Nash stuck out his tongue. “I only do that occasionally—to relax after training. Not everyone can live in the library like you do. You’re not even human anymore. Even the wooden figurine my senior brother carved to polish demon bones doesn’t work as hard as you.”