Art of Creation [Eco-Cultivation Prototype]

With his new plan set in motion, Devor fell into a rhythm as precise as a Formation array—equal parts meditation, cultivation, experimentation, and swordplay.

Confined to his hilltop by the Sect's protective formation, he transformed his residence into a crucible of refinement.

From dawn to dusk, he tested hypotheses, logged failures, and corrected theories.

When his mind needed rest, his body did not—so he trained, striking at phantoms with his sword and honing each movement until instinct replaced thought.

By the third day, he was ready to take a risk. "One seed at a time is too slow. If I want results before Venom Mode fades... I'll need hundreds."

Of course, forcefully maturing every plant would consume too much essence—and risk destabilizing the Venom Domain.

But there was a middle path.

Instead of experimenting on each plant individually, Devor wondered—why not run dozens, even hundreds of experiments at once?

Of course, he couldn't rush them all to maturity instantly.

But he could guide the mutation paths of each one slowly, letting them grow under normal conditions while subtly steering their evolution.

With that in mind, he began accelerating plant growth throughout his garden, using the energy of the Venom Domain to prepare them for his next wave of experimental projects.

On the first day alone, he spent roughly 4,000 essence units. His estimates suggested the entire batch would mature within three to five days.

"At this rate, with a daily recovery of 2,000 essence, I can afford to repeat the process once per day," he calculated inwardly.

But even so, Devor held back.

Though the Venom Domain no longer felt fragile—and even losing 50,000 essence wouldn't cripple it—he still couldn't bring himself to spend even 10,000 in a single day.

He could accept failure a thousand times over.

But destruction?

He couldn't risk that—not after everything he had built.

A week passed.

The plants had matured—vibrant, venomous, and on the cusp of blooming into something greater.

And on that same day, the one person Devor hadn't seen in months returned to the hill.

The formation shimmered as Yulin passed through it, her robes catching the breeze as her presence stirred the stillness. Her senses expanded outward the moment she arrived.

She scanned the garden—her eyes narrowing when she spotted the small, awkward purple bird waddling between rows of plants.

"Venom?" she thought, recognizing the energy signature.

Then her gaze shifted—and locked onto Devor.

He was leaning against the Venom Spiritual Tree, surrounded by dozens of mature plants—each one glowing faintly with the saturated power of the Venom Domain.

But it was his aura that made her pause.

There was a layered complexity to it. A twisted harmony. Like two souls coexisting as one.

"He's not just using an Incarnation…" Yulin's brows furrowed slightly. "He is the Incarnation."

Yulin's brows furrowed slightly. "No… it's reversed. The god hasn't descended into Devor's body. Devor has risen to claim the god's form."

A chill passed through her—not out of fear, but awe. "This kind of merger shouldn't be possible without Divine-level affinity… or the favor of a Primordial Law itself."

She stepped forward.

Devor looked up and grinned. "You've been gone for a while, Sister Yulin. Don't tell me the Sect sent you off on some secret mission?"

"Nothing so dramatic," she replied with a small smirk. "Just making preparations for the future. Looks like you've been doing the same."

Devor chuckled and rose to his feet. "What can I say? Being locked away really helps clear the mind."

Her gaze swept across the garden again, pausing on the mutated plants glowing with unnatural colors.

"I can see that. Though I have to ask…" she said, folding her arms, "You're really a Core Formation cultivator now?"

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"Temporarily," Devor replied, tone modest. "This power comes from Venom Mode. My real cultivation base hasn't moved."

Yulin raised a brow. "You sound almost disappointed."

"I would be," Devor admitted. "I spent years crafting my technique. If I skipped ahead without properly cultivating the foundation, all of that would go to waste."

She nodded slowly, thoughtful. "That kind of restraint is rare. Most people would trade years of study for instant power."

"I'm not most people," Devor replied, his voice quiet but firm. "I'm building something that has never existed before. If I rush it, it'll collapse under its own weight."

As they walked through the garden, Yulin finally asked, "Do you know the Elders have started watching your progress more closely?"

"I figured," Devor said. "I'm drawing on Domain energy, experimenting with mutation control, and walking a path no one else understands. It would be strange not to attract attention."

"They're not just watching you," she added. "They're debating whether to formalize your method into an official Spiritual Farmer cultivation path."

Devor stopped walking. "An official path?"

"Yeah," Yulin said. "If you perfect this… you could change the way our Sect—and others—train Spiritual Farmers. You'd be founding your own lineage."

Devor's heart pounded.

He had dreamed of many things—but not this.

A lineage… born from him?

Silence lingered between them, heavy with meaning.

The air was thick with the scent of herbs and freshly turned soil, and the gentle hum of spiritual energy pulsed through the garden.

Yulin glanced at him, then at the towering Venom Spiritual Tree nearby.

As if needing a moment herself, she walked a few steps ahead and slowly lowered herself beside its ancient trunk, resting her back against the bark with a soft exhale.

Devor hesitated for a moment, then followed.

He sat down beside her, the rough texture of the bark against his back grounding him as he tried to settle the storm of thoughts swirling in his mind.

They sat in silence for a few moments, the garden around them rustling softly with wind and unseen energy.

Then, Yulin turned toward him, her voice softer than usual.

"Do you want to set foot in the Immortal World?" she asked, her gaze resting not just on his face—but beyond it, as if trying to read the intentions etched into his soul.

Devor hesitated for a moment. Then, with a quiet nod, he replied, "Of course I do. And maybe... it's the only way I can reach one of my dreams."

Yulin assumed his dream was related to his cultivation path or his personal Dao.

What she didn't know—what no one in this world could possibly know—was that Devor's yearning for the Immortal World was rooted in something far deeper. Something not of this world at all.

He wasn't just chasing immortality or strength.

He was chasing home.

Maybe Earth had long moved on without him.

Maybe everyone he once knew was gone.

But still… it was where he came from.

And maybe—just maybe—if he reached the peak of this world, he would find the key to return.

"How do you plan to get there?" Yulin asked. "The Immortal Sect's competition?"

At the mention of it, Devor's expression darkened slightly.

He had studied it closely—dug into rumors and hidden records.

That competition was more than just a grand stage for genius cultivators.

It was a tangled net, riddled with unspoken pacts, mysterious disappearances, and power struggles masked behind flowery declarations.

"What if that entire competition has another purpose?" he asked, eyes narrowing slightly. "A way to gather all the young prodigies in one place... and ensure the next generation never grows strong enough to challenge the old guard's control?"

Yulin didn't reply right away. The look in her eyes said she'd considered the same thing.

Devor continued, his voice calm but firm. "Maybe there's a better path. One I can carve out with my own hands."

She tilted her head slightly, intrigued. "And what would that path look like?"

Devor straightened, his eyes gleaming with conviction. "The Spiritual Trees—Venom is just the beginning. I've already started working with the Sect Master to acquire more. Fire, Water, Earth, Metal, Lightning... If I can cultivate them, evolve them into their Domains, and create harmony between their essences… that might be the key to creating a new Power. A strong enough to tear through the boundaries of this world and open the path to the Immortal Realm."

Yulin was silent for a moment, taking in the weight of his words.

"That's more than just ambition," she said finally. "That's cultivation at its purest: defying fate by forging your own."

Then she smiled—and flicked her fingers.

A transparent orb shimmered into existence above her palm.

Inside was a miniature tree, no taller than a thumb, glowing with soft golden-green light.

Its leaves swayed gently despite the absence of wind, and the aura it radiated made the garden feel like spring had bloomed anew.

Devor's breath caught in his throat.

"This is…" he whispered, reaching toward it instinctively. "…a World Tree seedling?"

Yulin nodded. "That's what I've been calling it. I don't know its true name—no one does. I found it on a mission outside the continent, hidden in a ruined Skyroot Vault."

Devor immediately understood the significance.

World Trees were legendary among Spiritual Farmers—not for their power, but for their ability to act as anchors for all other forms of plant life.

Their essence was pure balance, untainted by elemental alignment, able to harmonize conflicting attributes.

"It's wasted in my hands," Yulin said softly, extending it toward him. "You're the only one I know who might actually unlock its true potential."

Devor stared at the item in her hand, unmoving. A flicker of hesitation passed through him, and his fingers curled slightly.

"This is... too much," he murmured. "You could buy an entire minor sect with this—forget Flying Sword Orbs. Why would you even—?"

Yulin tilted her head, a playful glint in her eyes as her lips curved into a faint smile.

"Call it repayment," she said lightly. "For the three orbs you gave me back then."

Devor laughed in disbelief. "Sister Yulin, I gave you glorified spirit bombs. You're giving me a divine relic."

She shrugged. "Then call it an investment."

Devor's smile slowly faded as he saw something deeper behind her expression—hope… and fear.

"I want to reach the Immortal World," she said, her voice quiet but fierce. "More than anything. But I'm not sure I'll make it there on my own. So I'm placing my bet on you."

His brows furrowed. He had always seen her as the confident one—the senior with insight, composure, and strength.

But now, for the first time, he saw that she too carried a burden. A dream.

"So don't mess it up," she added with a teasing grin, though her eyes betrayed the weight behind the words. "Or I'll chop down every tree you've grown—starting with that World Tree."

Devor smiled back, though his heart was solemn.

"Then I'll make them strong enough," he said, "that not even you could scratch their bark."

They both laughed—but in that moment, a silent vow was made.

Devor would not just reach the Immortal World.

He would build the path himself.

And when that moment came, he would make sure there was room on it not only for him—but for those who had believed in him from the very beginning.