Art of Creation [Eco-Cultivation Prototype]

Although Devor had painstakingly perfected the Heavenly Creation Cultivation Technique with the goal of aligning more closely with nature, he never imagined the results would manifest like this.

His brows furrowed as he sat beneath the shade of the Venom Spiritual Tree, golden light still flickering faintly across the veins of his palm.

"No… this is strange. Is it really possible for a Foundation Building cultivator's energy to reach this level of purity?" Devor clenched his fist, eyes narrowing as he studied the gentle spiritual current flowing through his meridians.

The energy felt unusually rich and stable—far more refined than what he had ever read or heard about at his current stage. It pulsed with a quiet strength, dense and vibrant, as though it already carried the weight of a higher realm.

He exhaled slowly. "If it's like this now… then what happens when I actually reach the Core Formation stage—or ascend beyond it?"

Normally, a cultivator's true essence only began to solidify upon entering the Golden Core Realm.

The transformation was gradual, sometimes erratic, and rarely did it carry such clarity from the outset.

And yet, the spiritual energy within him already radiated a vitality and resonance with nature—like the breath of spring breaking through winter's chill.

It wasn't just unusual. It was unnatural.

It wasn't just refined.

It was… seductive.

Even now, he could feel the subtle stirrings of attention from the spiritual life around him. The grass leaned slightly toward him.

The World Tree's leaves trembled with more than just the wind. And the Venom Spiritual Tree? It practically vibrated with anticipation.

A shiver ran down his spine. "It's like… I'm becoming some kind of walking spring rain—an incarnation of nourishment itself."

He turned his gaze toward the Venom Spiritual Tree. It was rooted in place, but its energy pulsed in a rhythm that mirrored anticipation. Excitement.

He took a deep breath. "I need feedback. Honest feedback."

"I'll let you have a taste of my energy," Devor said aloud, meeting the tree's curious aura. "But I want your real opinion. No flattery. No tricks."

Venom's spiritual voice sparked to life in response, bright and eager. "Don't worry, Big Brother Devor! I'll give it to you straight—Scout's honor!"

Devor narrowed his eyes. "You were never a scout."

"Details," Venom replied innocently.

Suppressing a sigh, Devor extended his hand. Slowly, a stream of golden spiritual energy poured from his body, radiant and warm like sunlight filtered through a forest canopy.

The moment it touched the Venom Spiritual Tree, the effect was instant.

The tree's bark shimmered with a subtle ripple. Its branches leaned forward, trembling faintly—and then all of the golden energy vanished, absorbed in one seamless breath.

Not a single particle remained.

Devor immediately cut off the flow. "That's it. No more."

Venom let out a delighted groan. "Delicious! That was so good. Like the spiritual equivalent of hot tea on a cold day!"

"…Tea?" Devor raised a skeptical brow.

Venom's voice purred. "No—better than tea. Like… uh… golden honeydew fruit from the Dreaming Woodlands, chilled with morning mist. It was divine!"

Devor stared at the space where the wisp of sentient energy lingered, his expression unreadable.

That kind of phrasing—excessive, dramatic, and oddly poetic—was unmistakably Yulin's influence.

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

He sighed inwardly, already imagining the kind of "lessons".

Was she teaching Venom flowery metaphors now? Or worse—was she feeding him romantic novels?

Devor rubbed his temple. "I need to start screening your conversations."

Devor narrowed his eyes, studying the tree's aura. "So it tasted good. But did it do anything? Strengthen you? Stabilize your root system? Boost vitality?"

Venom paused. "…Does boosting appetite count as a spiritual benefit?"

"No," Devor deadpanned.

"Then no. Nothing noticeable," Venom replied quickly, clearly hoping for another taste.

"Mm." Devor exhaled slowly, falling into thought.

If there was no measurable improvement to Venom's physical or spiritual state, then what, exactly, was his energy doing?

His mind drifted back to the refinements he made while developing the Heavenly Creation technique.

He'd intentionally built it to harmonize with nature—wanting his energy to resonate with Spiritual Trees, help them grow, and maybe even form soul-deep bonds.

It started as a foundation—a way to build trust.

Now it had evolved into something… else.

Devor closed his eyes, recalling the subtle changes. The way the trees responded to his presence—branches turning ever so slightly, leaves shimmering as if stirred by an unseen wind.

And then it hit him. "Maybe I didn't create a healing force… Maybe I created a magnet."

Not in the physical sense.

In the spiritual one.

A lure. A beacon.

Something that excites spiritual life—not because it heals them, but because it nourishes something deeper. Their instinct. Their desire.

He looked up at the Venom Tree again, this time with a deeper wariness. "Did I just… create a drug for plants?"

Devor's thoughts returned to the peculiar behavior of the World Tree and the Venom Spiritual Tree the moment they tasted his energy.

They hadn't just reacted—they'd hungered. There was something in his energy that stirred a need, a craving, even… addiction.

It reminded him of the way certain Beast Masters were born with a natural aura that attracted spirit beasts.

Whether through inherited affinity or advanced taming techniques, those individuals could approach wild beasts without resistance.

But what Devor possessed now?

"It was deeper. Simpler. Instinctive." He didn't have to use charm or technique—just a breath of his energy was enough.

Enough to make trees lean toward him. Enough to awaken something primal in them.

"This might be more dangerous than helpful…" The thought crossed his mind like a cold wind. "If I ever enter a forest of ancient trees—or near slumbering spirits rooted in nature—I might not be welcomed. I might be devoured."

He let out a dry laugh and muttered to himself, "Just my luck. I finally get something special… and it turns me into a walking miracle drug for plants."

"I can't take this gift lightly. And I can't afford to keep testing it only on Venom." His eyes drifted across the garden, where hundreds of spiritual plants swayed gently in the breeze—each one thriving under his domain's touch.

"Time to experiment. If this energy of mine really has the ability to influence plant life… I need proof." A faint, unreadable smile curled his lips.

He would test every species he could find.

But even as he planned his next moves, far away—on the other side of the world—someone else had already noticed him.

❄️❄️❄️

Hidden deep within a land shielded by ancient seals and older bloodlines, a vast forest canopy stretched across a valley like an emerald ocean.

From within that living sea rose a towering presence—an ancient tree so colossal it dwarfed even the tallest peaks that encircled it.

Its roots plunged miles into the earth. Its crown brushed the edge of the heavens.

This was Sylvaris, the Worldroot Tree—revered by elves, worshipped by scholars, and feared by cultivators who respected ancient forces beyond comprehension.

Nestled within its shadow was a city unlike any other.

Stonework and nature melded into harmony—buildings grown rather than built, winding with vines and alive with blossoms.

Petals drifted on soft winds. Light filtered through shimmering green veils. It was a place untouched by war, unspoiled by greed.

At the foot of the Worldroot's great trunk, a ceremonial platform sat in quiet majesty.

Three figures stood upon it—two men and one woman, all unmistakably elven.

Their ears tapered elegantly, their hair gleamed like sunlight on silk, and their robes shimmered with enchantments older than kingdoms.

They knelt as one, facing the gathering aura before them.

From the bark of the tree itself, green light began to stir—coalescing into the form of a woman. Tall. Radiant. Ageless.

Her emerald gown shimmered like dew on leaves. Her eyes glowed with tranquil insight. She was not mortal. Not entirely spirit either.

She was the Sage of Sylvaris—a projection of the Worldroot Tree's divine consciousness.

"I have summoned you," she spoke, her voice soft as wind over grass, "because something new stirs upon the wind."

The leading elf, a calm-eyed man with golden braid and emerald sigil on his brow, spoke. "Has danger risen, Lady Sage?"

"Perhaps," she said, tilting her head. "Or perhaps… opportunity."

She extended one slender hand, and within it formed a small wooden sculpture—a charm no larger than a thumb.

Inside, swirled a wisp of golden energy so faint it barely pulsed.

"This energy appeared at the edge of my awareness. It is not divine. It is not chaotic. And yet… I feel its resonance through the roots."

The three elves tensed slightly.

"If it's spreading through the root network, then… it's affecting ancient flora?" the woman among them asked warily.

The Sage gave a faint nod.

"I ask only this," she said. "Find the one who carries this essence. And if you find them… do not harm them. Observe. Learn. Share with me what you discover."

The elven man stepped forward and accepted the token with both hands, reverently.

As he touched it, his expression shifted.

"…This energy… it feels—normal," he said, visibly perplexed. "It's not strong. It's not divine. It's just… gentle. Pure. But nothing extraordinary."

The Sage smiled—cryptic and knowing.

"That's what makes it so extraordinary."