Art of Creation [Eco-Cultivation Prototype]

The Azure Sky Sect issued a quiet decree: access to Devor's hilltop residence was now restricted. Only a handful of trusted individuals—handpicked by the Sect Master himself—were permitted entry.

Shortly after the announcement, a protective formation was activated, cloaking the entire hill in a veil of invisibility and silence. .

From the outside, it seemed the land had simply vanished—no qi fluctuations, no light, no life. An empty void of mist and nothingness.

Yet within the boundary, sunlight still filtered through the trees. Birds still chirped. And the wind still whispered through the petals of rare Spiritual Plants.

To the world, the hill had become a mystery.

To Devor, it was simply home.

The official explanation from the sect was carefully worded:

"Divine Disciple Devor is conducting a high-risk cultivation experiment. For the safety of disciples and the stability of the Venom Domain, access has been temporarily sealed."

No one questioned it.

Devor's work with the Venom Garden was well known. So too was his habit of diving into radical experimentation. This announcement only reinforced his legend as a rogue cultivator-genius.

Of course, no one knew the real reason: that Devor was locked in Venom Mode, and needed to remain isolated until he returned to his original state.

Within the protective formation, Devor knelt in the garden beside Venom—the little purple energy-bird that now acted as the external projection of the Venom Tree's consciousness.

The bird waddled about on tiny, uncertain legs, its talons scraping the soil like a child learning to walk.

Devor chuckled softly at the sight. "You know, you could fly."

"I can! I just like walking now!" Venom chirped defiantly.

Devor turned back toward the Venom Garden. Above it, the Venom Domain stretched like a vast celestial canopy—glittering like a star-soaked sky at midnight.

He took a breath and focused. "Time to try something new."

He stepped into the heart of the garden, positioned himself at the domain's center, and closed his eyes.

"Hopefully… this works the same way as when I used the Golden Veil energy," he murmured.

A moment later, a thin strand of energy—dark, serpentine, and alive with venomous intent—descended from the heavens and connected with him.

It slipped into his body through the crown of his head, spreading through his meridians like a quiet invasion.

He winced, not from pain—but from the pressure.

This was domain essence, not ordinary qi.

But now, immersed in Venom Mode, Devor was different.

His body wasn't resisting the energy—it was absorbing it, shaping it, refining it like a cultivator might a pill in a furnace.

And more importantly… it felt natural.

Nourishing.

Alive.

"So this is what it's like... to be in sync with a Domain."

No more fear. No more guesswork. Just control.

A thrill raced down his spine as his thoughts raced ahead. "What if I could do this again—with a different tree?"

Different elements. Different Domains. Different insights.

Fire. Earth. Lightning. Wind.

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If he could cultivate multiple Spiritual Trees with distinct affinities and develop corresponding Domains, he could become the bridge between spiritual agriculture and elemental cultivation.

Devor had already spoken to both Master Nie and Sect Master Zinqi about the theoretical possibility of cultivating multiple Domains.

Devor had already spoken to both Master Nie and Sect Master Zinqi about the theoretical possibility of cultivating multiple Domains.

Because if even a single Domain could shift the rules of a fight…

Then someone who wielded several might reshape the entire landscape of power.

"Venom was only the beginning," Devor whispered, more to himself than to Venom. "If I can find the right trees, I could construct a second garden. A second Domain."

The idea pulsed in his mind, dangerous and exhilarating.

Above, dark threads of essence spiraled down from the sky like silk spun from shadow, tethering him to the night-streaked canopy of the Venom Domain.

The rope-like energy pulsed with quiet power—alive, watching, and waiting.

Breathing slow and steady, Devor reached for the pouch at his waist. His fingers closed around a single seed—small, unassuming, but heavy with potential.

With deliberate care, he knelt and drew it out into the slanting sunlight.

It shimmered faintly with a greenish hue—low-grade poison affinity, slightly unstable, perfect for testing.

He pressed the seed into the earth, adjusting the depth by instinct more than calculation.

The moment felt sacred.

Then, something unexpected happened.

Devor paused. His brow furrowed. "Why… why does it feel like I don't even need the Venom Domain to make this seed grow?"

He tilted his head, unsure if it was intuition or delusion. But the sensation lingered—subtle, insistent.

On impulse, he withdrew from the thread of the Domain and instead called upon nothing but his own inner energy—his raw life force, untouched by essence or technique.

With practiced focus, he poured that energy into the earth, directly into the seed.

And it responded.

Almost instantly, Devor's Spiritual Sense picked up the faint tremor of roots wriggling through the soil. Life stirred. Growth had begun.

"It actually worked," he thought, stunned. "No Spiritual Essence. No domain energy. Just my base energy… and it still grew."

That was unheard of.

Normally, a cultivator's innate energy was too wild, too elemental, too destructive for delicate plant life. It lacked the harmonics needed for symbiosis. But in this case—it had worked.

Wanting to test the phenomenon, Devor produced another seed—a water-element herb with no poison attributes—and repeated the process.

Within seconds, the seed began to decay.

Its fragile life force collapsed under the oppressive pressure of the venom-laced energy naturally circulating through his body in this form.

He watched it die with a quiet nod. "So. Only poison-type plants thrive in my presence now."

A silence settled over the garden.

And then, an idea bloomed. "What if I planted a hundred poison seeds across a battlefield? And triggered their growth at once? Could I raise a lethal forest mid-combat?"

It wasn't just theory anymore. The more he explored this mode, the more it became clear: Devor was evolving into a Spiritual Farmer of War—someone who could command the battlefield through roots and vines, toxins and tendrils.

His body was the soil.

His energy, the rain.

His intent, the sun that gave shape to their growth.

It was more than just plant manipulation now. It was the doctrine of cultivation ecosystems—a harmony between cultivator and field that bypassed conventional technique.

A new path was forming, one even the ancient sects had never charted.

Devor wasn't simply cultivating poison herbs anymore.

He was designing living weapons.

Setting the thought aside—for now—Devor returned to the planted poison seed.

This time, he called down the Venom Domain's energy, channeling it into the sprout that had begun to stir in the earth.

The Domain responded. Its essence flowed into him like a river redirected, and he guided it—shaping it, refining it, sending it pulsing into the root system of the newly planted seed.

What followed was clarity.

He could feel everything.

Every shift in the cell walls. Every twitch in the plant's spiritual structure. He could even perceive the latent genetic "choices" available to the plant as it began to mutate and evolve.

"The Domain provides the nourishment... but leaves the evolution to chaos."

That was the Venom Domain's greatest flaw.

But now, with Devor's guidance, it didn't have to remain that way.

He inserted a predefined mutation model—one based on data collected over the last three months from Nyuru's experiments.

Direct guidance = controlled evolution.

Ten minutes later, the sprout pierced the soil.

But Devor didn't stop. He poured more energy in. He wanted the plant fully matured—ready for harvest.

And the Domain delivered. Fueled by essence far more potent than ordinary qi, the plant surged upward, growing with startling speed.

In half an hour, it stood tall and proud—one meter in height, its stem glowing faintly with greenish-purple veins.

Devor stumbled slightly, sweat pouring from his brow.

His body ached, but his gaze remained sharp. "It failed."

Even without a spiritual analyzer, he could tell—the mutation was flawed.

It was viable, yes. But it lacked the synergistic potential of some of the previous, randomly evolved plants. It had no harmony, only strength.

Without balance, even power is waste.

Still, he activated the Spiritual Analyzer, not on the plant—but on the Domain itself.

"Spiritual Analyzer," he intoned mentally.

A faint chime echoed in his ears.

[ Name: Venom Domain ]

[ Essence: 98,780 / 100,000 ]

[ Status: Very Good ]

[ Origin: Pseudo Dao Art of Creation ]

"Roughly 1,000 essence per complete growth cycle."

Enough for one full mutation a day—a focused, guided attempt that would nourish the Domain's memory, deepening its roots.

And for now, that would suffice.

"One or two months in this state," he calculated. "Sixty chances. Sixty seeds to plant the beginnings of something far greater."