Art of Creation [Eco-Cultivation Prototype]

"What!?" Devor's voice rose, unguarded and raw. "My little brother?"

He stared at Yulin in disbelief, the words bouncing around his mind like loose arrows with nowhere to land.

His thoughts spiraled backward—toward that bitter, fading memory.

When his biological parents had come to the Azure Sky Sect, cloaked in shame and entitlement, asking to 'acknowledge him' as their son…

It was a reunion full of empty smiles and hollow words.

No warmth. No guilt. Just quiet expectation that he'd be grateful.

Grateful that they, who'd abandoned him in the first place, had finally shown up after hearing of his talent.

To Devor, blood alone meant nothing.

A family wasn't built on shared bloodlines—it was built on actions. On time spent. On trust earned.

"I didn't even know they had another child…" he muttered, brows drawn together. "And even if they did—so what? That doesn't make him my brother."

Yulin crossed her arms and leaned casually against the doorway, one brow raised. "You sure? From the way this kid's talking, he's practically calling you a thief."

Devor sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "What's the rumor exactly?"

Her smile was half amusement, half concern. "That you stole your family's secret cultivation method—some ancient gardening technique, apparently passed down through the Li bloodline. The story goes: that's how you were able to control harmony in your gardens. And that's why you rose so fast."

A quiet laugh escaped Devor's lips—sharp and humorless.

"So that's the angle they're playing. Turn my success into theft. Make it seem like I didn't earn it." Devor thought.

He looked out over the spiritual trees in his courtyard, their branches swaying gently as if listening to the conversation.

In this world, reputation could be manipulated. Truth could be buried.

But power? Power was undeniable.

"It's a dumb story," Devor said finally. "But it'll stick in the minds of people who are looking for an excuse to hate me."

Yulin nodded. "They always need a story to cling to. Especially the ones who can't match you."

Devor's eyes narrowed slightly.

He didn't fear rumors. But Diyo Li… that name was beginning to feel like a seed planted by someone else. Not just jealousy, but strategy.

"Let them talk," Devor said calmly. "If I go after him now, it'll just prove their point. Besides, I've got more important things to do."

Yulin tilted her head, watching him. "You're not worried?"

"I'm curious," he admitted. "But worried? No. If he really wants to challenge me, he'll come in person."

Yulin chuckled softly. "He's been bouncing around small sects like a fox testing the wind. Not sure if he wants to be your rival or just ride your shadow."

"Or destroy it," she didn't add aloud.

"Let him come," Devor said, a flicker of resolve passing through his golden eyes. "If he's strong, I'll face him. If he's weak, I'll ignore him. Either way, I'm not losing sleep over it."

Yulin let his words settle for a moment before shifting the topic.

"Oh—and you remember Fujin, right?" she added. "He's been expanding his business network like wildfire. Not just within the Azure Sky Sect anymore. His name's starting to reach other major provinces."

Devor gave a small nod, unsurprised. "Of course. That kid isn't just clever—he's dangerous."

"He's drawing in investors, sects, rogue cultivators, even some clans. Talismans, spiritual agriculture tools, formation-activated produce—he's turning his little stall market into a network of marketplaces."

"Good," Devor said with faint amusement. "Let him grow. I've always thought he'd end up becoming the founder of something big. Maybe a merchant guild. Maybe a school."

"And if his ambitions clash with yours one day?" Yulin asked, watching him closely.

Devor's gaze drifted upward to the World Tree, still basking in golden essence. His voice was quiet but firm. "Then we'll see whose roots run deeper."

Devor had already studied Fujin's background in detail.

Every connection. Every deal. Every turning point in his journey.

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The dossier provided by the Sect had been unnervingly thorough—so complete, in fact, that even Devor, with all his access, couldn't guess how they'd gathered such an intricate web of information.

Fujin hailed from one of the mid-ranked noble families in the Azure Sky Sect's territory.

Third son, with three older brothers who specialized in martial cultivation, and one younger sister—Fuyin—who showed promise in Spiritual Farming, especially through her unique insect-based cultivation technique.

At a glance, Fujin didn't behave like a noble at all.

Rather than cultivating prestige or chasing military power, he had spent his youth wandering through disciplines—dabbling in swordsmanship, alchemy, even beast taming—before finally settling into Rune Formation.

But it wasn't the typical path most Rune Masters pursued.

He didn't aim for legacy formations or ancient spell matrices. He focused on invention. On crafting Rune Talismans that no one had thought of, and layering formations for practical—but unpredictable—results.

Where others honed their Dao through combat, Fujin sharpened his mind through commerce.

From a young age, he threw himself into trade and logistics, forming merchant routes between disciples and building a quiet empire of minor innovations—tools, talismans, and formations that supported spiritual farming, resource collection, or battlefield utility.

To most people, it was impressive but not alarming. Just a clever noble playing with coin and carving his niche.

But to Devor?

It was familiar. Too familiar.

Fujin's mindset, his risk appetite, his creativity—it didn't align with the culture of this world. It echoed the entrepreneurial spirit of another one.

Earth.

Devor, who himself had reincarnated from that long-lost world, couldn't help but suspect: Fujin might be just like him.

Someone born elsewhere. Someone reborn here.

As these thoughts settled into his mind, a familiar voice pulled him back to the present.

"You've taken quite the interest in that one."

Devor glanced over to see Yulin, arms folded, expression unreadable.

"You've been unusually quick to approve his proposals. And faster still to stand beside him. You don't usually move like that."

Devor smiled lightly, though there was a faint tension behind it.

"Why wouldn't I? His ideas benefit me. As long as the results are good, I don't need to overthink it."

Yulin's gaze didn't soften. In fact, it sharpened, narrowing like a blade tracing the edge of his answer.

For a moment, Devor found himself shrinking his neck unconsciously—an old reflex from when he knew he'd said too little and revealed too much.

She could always tell.

But to his surprise, Yulin let out a long sigh instead of pressing the issue.

"Fine," she said at last. "I won't pry."

She stepped beside him and stared into the distance, where the garden shimmered under the light of the World Tree's golden leaves.

"But here's my advice," she added, voice low. "Don't get too close to him from now on."

Devor turned, eyebrows lifting. "Why? You think he's dangerous?"

"Not in the way you're thinking," Yulin replied. "Not yet, anyway."

She paused, choosing her words.

"But someone who breathes business—who sees the world in terms of trade, leverage, and opportunity—will always look out for profit first. If your value drops… if your path stands in the way of his..."

She met his gaze fully now. "Then don't be surprised if he chooses gold over loyalty."

Devor nodded to himself, his thoughts drifting to echoes from his past life.

He had learned it long ago—in the business world, the most dangerous people weren't the warriors, the politicians, or even the assassins.

They were the merchants.

A true businessman didn't just pursue profit. He read people like ledgers, weighed loyalty against leverage, and struck with clinical precision. Often unseen. Always calculated.

"Sometimes," Devor murmured aloud, more to himself than Yulin, "a merchant is the most terrifying kind of cultivator."

Yulin tilted her head slightly, gaze curious. "Terrifying?"

Devor turned to her with a faint smile. "Because a merchant doesn't have to defeat you in battle. He just has to convince you to sell yourself—and thank him for the deal."

Yulin gave a wry chuckle but said nothing.

After a brief pause, Devor continued. "But maybe… that makes them the best kind of ally too."

"Oh?" Yulin raised a brow. "You're saying a person who would sell you out for profit could also be someone you rely on?"

"If we're valuable enough to them," Devor replied simply, "then they'll protect us—without needing loyalty, friendship, or honor. Just benefit."

A beat passed. Then Yulin sighed, rubbing her temple. "You really are from a different world, aren't you?"

Devor blinked. "What?"

"Nothing," she said, waving the thought away. "Just thinking how naive that logic sounds here."

She crossed her arms and looked him in the eye, voice firm. "You might be strong now, Devor. Core Formation, respected by the Sect, even drawing attention from other sects. But you're still soft. The kind of cruelty that thrives in this world... it's not something you can out-think or bargain with."

Devor gave a crooked grin. "That's why I have Sister Yulin. You'll protect me, right?"

But her response came without hesitation.

"No."

He blinked.

"I'm not your shield," Yulin said flatly. "I'm your sword. I won't block the blade meant for you—but I will help you cut down whatever tries to kill you."

Devor paused, letting her words settle.

Then, after a moment: "That's not much different. A flying sword can defend and attack."

Yulin rolled her eyes. "Are you seriously turning this into a philosophical debate?"

"I'm just saying," Devor replied, his tone mock-serious, "you'd be a very flexible sword. Possibly a legendary-grade defensive-type flying sword…"

"Oh no, you did not just—"

And just like that, the two fell into a strange but familiar argument—playful, pointless, and yet filled with warmth neither of them acknowledged aloud.

Perched in a tree not far off, Venom cracked open one eye.

The once-silent observer of these two cultivators—who had now become his closest companions—sighed heavily.

"Are you two insane?" he muttered. "People think you're some profound master-duo shaping the future of cultivation. But here you are, arguing about whether she's a sword or a damn shield."

He grumbled as he shifted, curling a wing over his head.

It wasn't the argument that bothered him, really. It was the ease between them.

Yulin—the flying sword expert who could probably slaughter a small army by herself—and Devor, who had just stepped into Core Formation with a dual-manifested soul world garden.

They should've been strategizing world-shaking techniques or unraveling cultivation mysteries. Instead, they laughed, argued, and made ridiculous comparisons like this was some village tea stall.

And yet… that's what made it feel right.

Venom closed his eyes again.

Devor was always deep in theory, constantly immersed in his garden, buried beneath his Dao. Left alone, he might've grown into something cold—too focused, too distant.

But Yulin had brought something to him that no cultivation technique could.

Perspective. Levity. A grounding connection to the world outside Devor's spiritual roots.

Venom didn't need to analyze it deeply—he just knew.

She filled in what Devor lacked, in ways no herb or Heavenly Plant ever could.

As far as Venom was concerned, Yulin wasn't just a sword or a shield.

She was the bridge between who Devor was… and who he might one day become.