Art of Creation [Eco-Cultivation Prototype]

Serin laughed lightly at Yulin's expression, clearly savoring every ounce of her discomfort. "You're so tense. It's been centuries, and you still haven't learned to relax?"

Yulin's mouth twitched as she slowly looked away, ignoring the jab.

Winzi, sitting off to the side with his arms crossed and gaze distant, spoke with a solemn edge. "This is the largest undertaking we've ever committed to—bigger than any war, greater than any alliance. Whether it leads to salvation or disaster... we've already passed the point of no return."

Serin exhaled. "The moment we started this plan, they probably felt it. They're just waiting behind that door—waiting for it to open, waiting to strike."

A stillness settled over the chamber.

"There's no turning back," Yulin finally said, her voice almost a whisper. "Are we ushering in a new dawn... or dragging this world to its end?"

Zinqi's voice was like stone. "We might fail."

Everyone turned to him.

"We've already sacrificed so much—lives, time, faith, trust. We've bet everything on a sliver of hope. And if we're wrong..." He trailed off.

"If we're wrong, then either we die fighting," Winzi said bluntly, "or we stay caged here forever. Either way, the world breaks—just slower in one scenario."

"But if we succeed," Serin interjected, "it could mean limitless opportunities. Access to things we only dreamed of. All of us—our sects, our people—could rise beyond the heavens."

Yulin shook her head, eyes narrowing. "We might. But the common folk won't. Mortals. Low-tier cultivators. Those too weak to even sense the shifts in the world—they won't get a single scrap of what we find. Not unless we choose to share it."

The room fell into heavy silence.

It was a truth they all knew. Their cause, no matter how noble it sounded on paper, was still born from selfish desire. They didn't fight for the world—they fought for survival, for power, for sovereignty.

Zinqi broke the silence. "If Devor really is the one—the stabilizing force who can carry the weight of what comes next—then we owe it to him to be honest."

"That's a risk," Winzi said, his voice tightening. "He's not like us. That boy... he doesn't have a killer's heart. He's curious, focused, brilliant—but he's not cruel. If we tell him everything now, he might walk away."

"Then we tell him only what he needs to hear," Serin suggested, calm and calculating. "That the Sage has taken an interest in him. That he's being invited into something greater. When the time comes, he'll act—he will help us."

Yulin's gaze turned sharp. "You underestimate him."

Winzi raised a brow. "He's just a boy."

"No," Yulin snapped, "he's not. He's already seen through things no one else could. He'll piece the truth together eventually—and when he does, he'll hate us for it."

"By then, it'll be too late for him to change anything," Winzi said with a shrug.

Yulin looked away, her voice suddenly quieter. "I don't care about strategy. I just know this: I never wanted to see the day when my little brother looks at me like I'm the villain in his story."

Her voice cracked slightly on the last word.

That silence returned—but this time, it was heavier. More personal.

"It's honestly a miracle to see you care this much about someone," Serin said with a soft chuckle, her voice teasing yet thoughtful. "Could he be someone you knew in a past life? Maybe an admirer who reincarnated just to chase your heart again."

Yulin gave a tired sigh, her expression unreadable. "Maybe… or maybe not. But I know this much—he's a true mortal. Through and through."

She leaned back slightly, her gaze distant. "Someone who reincarnated with knowledge of cultivation wouldn't waste time studying Spiritual Plant techniques—especially not those that can't even defend him in battle."

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There was no doubt in Yulin's mind. She had known Devor from the start. His confusion, his hesitations, the countless questions he asked—it was all too real. Too raw. There was no trace of inherited wisdom in him, no divine instinct awakened from another life.

"He's like a sapling planted in unfamiliar soil," she murmured. "Struggling, but still reaching toward the sun."

Serin gave a small nod. "Then that makes him even rarer. If I didn't know how closely you've watched him, I might've believed he was a reincarnated cultivator. Someone fated to fill the exact void this world is about to face."

There was a pause as Serin's words sank in.

Devor's strength didn't just stand out—it fit. Like the final piece of a long-lost puzzle. One that, once placed, would change the shape of the entire board.

Zinqi's voice broke the silence. "Aside from Devor… is there anyone else? Any other cultivators who might qualify for what's coming?"

Everyone in the room turned their eyes toward Serin.

She shook her head. "None."

"The other Spiritual Farmers," she said quietly, "even the most talented among them... they lack the core attribute required. Their power is derived from technique, lineage, or tools. Devor's comes from understanding—and more importantly, from creation."

Serin closed her eyes briefly. "I've been studying the energy flows of this world for over ten thousand years. Every pattern, every leyline, every fluctuation. And in all that time, I've never sensed something like him."

She opened her eyes again, sharper now.

"With the emergence of the Dao Embryo… and the walls we keep hitting in cultivation—we're stuck at thresholds we can't break through. That alone should terrify us."

"If the Dao is a force meant only for the Immortal World," she continued, "then how can a fragment of that power manifest here? How can a Dao Embryo take shape under the laws of a world like ours?"

Winzi furrowed his brow. "You're saying this world's rules have been violated?"

"No," Serin replied, her tone even. "I'm saying... something doesn't belong."

She swept her gaze over each of them. "Every world has its own natural limits—an equilibrium it enforces. We've all felt it. The suppression of our power, the restrictions we fight against. This world pushes back."

"That suppression," she added, "isn't from some higher being or imposed system. It's a natural reaction—like the body rejecting a foreign object. Like soil choking out an invasive root."

"So if we are suppressed by the rules of this world… then wouldn't the Immortal World be bound by its own rules too?"

She let the question hang in the air, sharp and undeniable.

"That's why I believe our world is an incomplete fragment," Serin said, her voice firm but calm. "The Dao Embryo—and all of our Daos—they didn't descend from the Immortal World. No... I think they've always been part of this world. Buried. Waiting."

The room fell into a heavy silence.

Each person there had entertained similar thoughts at one point or another. The strange inconsistencies. The unexplained thresholds. The lingering sense that something fundamental was... missing.

"It feels like the very fabric of our world is being suppressed," Serin continued. "Like there's an invisible ceiling pressing down from above. A boundary we were never meant to cross—or at least, that someone doesn't want us to cross."

She paused, then added, "If our plan succeeds, we'll send a chosen group beyond this world—and then seal the Immortals' entry point behind them."

The weight of her words settled like a storm cloud over the room.

"Of course, they won't take that lightly," she said. "If we disrupt their influence... they'll retaliate. They may not be able to enter directly, but they'll find ways. Sabotage. Spiritual corruption. Energy starvation. Whatever it takes to break us down."

Serin's gaze shifted toward Yulin. "And when that day comes... spiritual energy, elemental laws, even the sunlight itself—everything we draw strength from—might begin to vanish."

Her voice darkened. "We Elves, and all who rely on the pure flow of nature, may lose everything."

"But Devor..." she added, her tone softening with a strange reverence. "That boy has no idea what he's doing. And it's precisely that ignorant boldness—that wild instinct to become nature itself—that makes him the perfect vessel for a new kind of world."

Yulin's fingers tightened slightly as she spoke. "Do you believe he can reshape it all? Not just survive the collapse—but overwrite it? Infuse the world with his own essence until it becomes something new?"

"It's possible," Serin replied without hesitation. "But it won't be like planting a flower in a garden. It would be like... uprooting a continent. Rebuilding an entire ecosystem from ash."

Zinqi folded his arms. "Still, there are only two ways a Dao can reach its peak—either by being refined through the cultivator's own will, or by being lived through by others."

"In other words," Yulin said slowly, "if Devor spreads his essence far enough—if his Dao becomes the soil, the sky, the breath of this world—then everyone who lives in it... will live under his will."

"And in doing so," Zinqi added, "his Dao would grow boundlessly, nourished by all those who walk upon it."

The implications were staggering.

"A self-grown reality," Serin murmured. "An independent world, born within this one."

Yulin allowed herself a small, dangerous smile. "Then maybe this plan isn't just about saving the world. Maybe it's Devor's opportunity to own it. From within. While the rest of us hold the outside."

She glanced at the others, eyes sharp. "If the Immortals do return, if they try to claim this world again... they might find it already belongs to someone else."

The room was quiet again. But this time, it wasn't hesitation that filled the silence—it was intent.

Then Yulin's expression darkened, her tone turning ice-cold. "That competition they host every fifty years. It's not a ritual. It's a filter."

Serin narrowed her eyes.

"They're not testing talent," Yulin continued. "They're collecting something. They've been targeting younger cultivators for centuries now. Why them? Why not us?"

Zinqi's eyes widened slightly. "Because they need a pure medium. Someone unshaped. Unentrenched."

"Exactly," Yulin said. "Whatever they're trying to take, it belongs to this world. But since they're outsiders... they can't claim it directly. They need hosts. Seeds. Carriers."