Iram Rai had come to understand something remarkable—something that reshaped her very sense of existence: even a cultivator wielding a Divine Weapon could no longer inflict meaningful harm upon her body. The revelation had come gradually, tested and confirmed through meditation, reflection, and the subtle pulse of her Soul Power resonating through every vein.
It was a discovery she sorely needed. The days ahead would not be gentle, and every sliver of strength might be the difference between life and death.
She had unfinished business. The ones who had betrayed her, who had abandoned her at her lowest, still walked the world unscathed—respected, revered even. She had bled for them. She had carried her sect to glory with her bare hands, nurturing it until it stood among the Top Ten Sects of the Northern Ice Continent. And yet, when she had stood at the brink of death—bleeding, poisoned, her cultivation shattered—not a single soul from her sect had come to her side. Not the disciples she had trained. Not the elders she had respected. Not even the Sect Master himself.
The memory ignited a furnace in her chest, a fury hot enough to melt ice.
But she inhaled deeply and released the rage in a steady breath. The cold air of the Hidden Ice World filled her lungs, clearing her mind.
Anger won't help. First, I must stabilize the Soul Transformation stage. The stronger my foundation, the greater my chances when the time comes.
With renewed clarity, she sank into meditation. Sitting cross-legged upon the icy ground, she began channeling the triad of her essence—Soul Power, Law Power, and Willpower—into her Moon Divine Body. The energy flowed like moonlight through the meridians of her form, coiling inward, saturating her core. At the heart of her cultivation, the newly formed Soul Sea stirred with potential, vast and limitless.
When a cultivator broke through from the Spirit Fusion Realm into the Soul Transformation Realm, a fundamental metamorphosis occurred within them. The soul space—once a limited vessel—evolved into a mighty Soul Sea. It was within this ethereal ocean that the Divine Body manifested, allowing the wielder to harness Law Power not only as energy, but as essence. The deeper their comprehension, the more expansive the Soul Sea became.
Yet, Iram Rai's process was anything but typical.
Her journey from Spirit Fusion to Soul Transformation had spanned ten full days, an eternity by ordinary cultivation standards. Before that, five days had been lost to recovery—recovery she owed entirely to the unborn child within her. The miracle that was Adarsh had somehow cleansed her of the lethal poison, healing what no medicine could touch. Then, ten more days of painstaking cultivation had brought her to the breakthrough.
And still, a single wound remained.
The fracture in her Soul Bone throbbed like a phantom pain—untouched by time or power. No matter how much energy she channeled or how perfectly her body mended, the crack persisted. A reminder. A warning.
She stood slowly, feeling the shift in her strength. Her movements felt light, effortless—yet when she pressed her hand against a nearby boulder of ice, her fingers sunk into it like it was clay. Her power had evolved. Her body was no longer mortal.
And yet, power was not everything.
She lacked the one thing she needed most: Soul Transformation-level techniques. The kind of abilities that could devastate an enemy with a single strike, that could match others in her realm or surpass them. Outside a sect, where libraries and ancient inheritances abounded, acquiring such skills was nearly impossible. Creating one from scratch would take years—perhaps even a decade—of research, trial, and refinement.
Maybe that's for the best, she thought, a bitter smile tugging at her lips. If I had that kind of power now, I might've rushed back to the sect in blind rage.
But she wasn't alone anymore.
She placed a hand on her abdomen, where life stirred beneath layers of flesh and power. I'm pregnant… I can't afford to be reckless.
Within her grew a miracle—a child born of impossible circumstances. Her own blood. A soul that would one day look up to her and call her Mother. That single word, once abstract, now meant everything.
"If death itself comes for you," she whispered, "I'll meet it head-on."
And to her surprise, a quiet laugh escaped her. "I'm already thinking like a mother. I can't even imagine how much I'll love you once you're born."
Turning her attention to her surroundings, she surveyed the destruction her breakthrough had caused. The grand palace she had once crafted in this secret realm lay in utter ruin—its protective formations shattered, its walls reduced to icy rubble.
So… my breakthrough caused all this? she mused, half in awe, half in dismay. I'll need to rebuild everything from scratch.
She raised her hand, drawing upon her Spirit Power. The ice around her responded, obedient and fluid. Large blocks rose from the ground, hewn and shaped by her will. With methodical precision, she rebuilt her sanctuary. It was not the glorious structure it had once been, but it would serve her purpose: shelter, solitude, and safety.
"It's not as majestic as before," she muttered as she inspected the modest home. "But I'm not building for splendor. I'm building for us."
Simple furniture came next—smooth benches, a bed of layered frost softened with spiritual pelts, and a table near the window where she could meditate in the light of the eternal aurora that danced above the Hidden Ice World.
Ten days had passed since she had become pregnant. Ten months remained. And she intended to use them well.
Even if she could not complete a full-fledged Soul Transformation technique, she could begin laying its foundation. Each day, she devoted time to her cultivation, eating nutrient-rich Spirit Fruits from her spatial ring, resting properly, and—most critically—pondering the nature of her next great skill.
That question haunted her more than any enemy.
What kind of skill should I create?
She had two Laws—Ice and Poison—each powerful in its own right. But choosing one over the other would be a waste. A single-Law technique would be easier, yes, but the fusion of the two held the promise of transcendence. Harmony was the key.
"Ice that freezes the body… poison that rots the soul. Together, they could become a force no one can defend against."
She smiled faintly, placing both hands over her belly.
"I'll name it Venomous Frost Lotus. Cold as death… and beautiful as life. Just like you, my little one."
And so, beneath the frozen sky of a hidden world, Iram Rai began to forge a future not only for herself, but for her child. Each day was a step forward. Each breath was a vow.