Art of Creation [Eco-Cultivation Prototype]

The sudden ability of the Venom Spiritual Tree to speak left Devor, Zinqi, and even Juyin momentarily speechless.

Though its voice was fragmented, slow, and unrefined, this was an unprecedented breakthrough—one that defied the natural order.

Normally, a Spiritual Tree required at least a hundred years to develop sentience, let alone the ability to speak.

Even with vast resources, accelerating its intelligence required ancient methods and divine nourishment.

Yet here it was—

A tree far younger than a century, uttering words of its own will.

The difference?

Devor.

It had not been rare elixirs, nor secret arts, but rather their bond—one that had unconsciously allowed the tree to break through its limitations.

A deep, violet energy rippled from within the Venom Spiritual Tree, its presence thick with emotion and resistance, forming a natural barrier around it.

Devor could sense it pushing outward, attempting to keep him from leaving.

Zinqi's golden Essence flared, but his expression remained calm as he instinctively reached out, shielding Devor.

Though he held no fear of the tree, he understood that an emotional outburst from a newly emerged young entity could be unpredictable.

Without hesitation, Zinqi spoke, his voice even yet firm. "If you wish to stay by Devor's side, then come with him—grow within Azure Sky Sect."

The Venom Spiritual Tree trembled, its energy pausing for a brief moment as if processing his words.

Zinqi could see the hesitation. It wasn't fear. It wasn't mistrust.

It was an instinctive struggle between past and future.

He continued, his voice steady. "I won't force you. But if you leave this place—if you let go of Juyin's protection—you must understand that your fate will be tied to Devor's."

A moment of silence.

Then—

"…Agreed."

A single word, but it echoed through the air, carrying an undeniable finality.

Zinqi's gaze flickered with understanding.

"Juyin never truly owned this tree."

"It belonged to Devor long before he handed it over."

Meanwhile, Devor's Spiritual Sense remained attuned to Zinqi, an unintentional observation unfolding in his mind.

The moment the Sect Master had reacted, he had unveiled a sliver of his Essence—

A golden energy, sharp yet boundless, concealed beneath his ever-composed exterior.

Devor watched in quiet awe. "Sect Master always appears so calm… but beneath the surface, his energy carries a sky-piercing intent."

He had studied many forms of Spiritual Energy circulation, but this was something else.

The way Zinqi controlled his Essence was flawless, like a sword hidden within a scabbard—motionless until drawn, and once revealed, capable of cutting through heaven and earth.

If he were to unleash it fully…

The mere pressure alone would be enough to make enemies falter before the strike even landed.

For a brief moment, Devor forgot about the situation around him—forgot about Zinqi's conversation with the Venom Spiritual Tree.

His curiosity overtook him, his mind spiraling into deep contemplation.

"How does he suppress his energy so effortlessly?"

"Could I learn to conceal my own presence in the same way?"

"What level of cultivation allows one to achieve such absolute control?"

Zinqi finished speaking with the tree, his energy calmly dispersing into the air, dissolving as though it had never existed.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

But Devor had already memorized it, tracing the way it had moved—how it had shifted and hidden itself at a moment's notice.

Zinqi turned back toward him. "Alright, now it's your turn, Devor. We need to meet with Juyin to discuss a few matters that might—"

He paused.

Devor wasn't listening.

His eyes were still fixed on the lingering traces of golden energy, blinking slowly as if lost in thought.

Zinqi let out a bitter smile. "Even now, he's analyzing it."

Devor's obsession with Spiritual Plants was undeniable, but his hunger for knowledge extended far beyond that.

Every new discovery—every slight shift in cultivation techniques, energy control, and natural forces—was something he would instinctively study, absorb, and seek to master.

Zinqi had seen this before, the first time Devor learned about Juyin's unique cultivation technique—how he had dissected the method, restructured it in his mind, and found ways to optimize it for himself.

And now, he was doing the exact same thing with Zinqi's energy.

Zinqi withdrew his energy, allowing the golden shield around Devor to dissolve into the air like dissipating mist.

As the protective aura faded, Devor snapped back to reality, fully aware once more of the situation they had just faced.

He parted his lips, intending to speak—to reassure the Venom Spiritual Tree, to calm its distress—but before he could say anything, Zinqi raised a hand, stopping him.

"I've already handled it," Zinqi said smoothly. Then, after a brief pause, he added, "But I am curious—why were you so intently focused on the barrier I created for you?"

Devor blinked, hesitating for only a moment before responding.

"Sect Master, your power is… overwhelming," he admitted. "But what's more impressive is how effortlessly you conceal it."

Over the past year, Devor's perception had sharpened significantly—his ability to read the energy flow of Spiritual Plants and cultivators alike had become second nature.

He had learned that every cultivation technique carried an unmistakable aura.

For example, if a cultivator specialized in sword techniques meant for killing, their killing intent would naturally seep into their presence, making them impossible to ignore to anyone with sufficient Spiritual Sense.

Likewise, his own cultivation technique was tied to nature itself—which meant that while his energy was stable and harmonious, it lacked the aggressive sharpness of a combat-oriented technique.

But Zinqi was different.

His energy was like an unsheathed divine sword hidden in plain sight—so well concealed that only those with exceptional perception could sense the abyss lurking beneath.

How did he suppress it so perfectly?

Zinqi smiled faintly, as if reading Devor's thoughts.

"Because I control my power," he said simply. "My power does not control me."

Before Devor could process the depth of those words, Zinqi placed a hand on his shoulder.

And in the blink of an eye—

The world shifted.

Devor barely had time to react.

One moment, he was still standing before the Venom Spiritual Tree, surrounded by its lingering energy.

The next, he was elsewhere.

The faint aroma of brewed tea filled the air, earthy and rich.

Devor turned his gaze to find Juyin, seated at a low wooden table, a steaming cup in hand.

Instinctively, Devor straightened and cupped his fists in greeting. "Senior."

Zinqi, unbothered by the sudden change in scenery, stepped forward and seated himself across from Juyin. He gestured casually for Devor to sit as well.

Once Devor settled beside him, Zinqi met Juyin's gaze.

"You saw it for yourself, didn't you?" he said, his tone unreadable. "What this boy has done?"

Juyin exhaled slowly, setting his cup down with measured precision.

"I'll be a spectator for now," Zinqi continued. "The rest is between you two."

Devor frowned slightly, uncertain of what was happening.

Juyin studied him for a moment before speaking. "Do you want the Venom Spiritual Tree?"

The question came without warning.

Devor's mind blanked for a second. "…Huh?"

A beat of silence passed before he gathered his thoughts.

Did he want the tree?

The answer was obvious.

"Yes, Senior," Devor finally said. "I am interested in the Venom Spiritual Tree."

He had spent the past year nurturing it, understanding it, forging a bond with it. Letting go of it now would be akin to abandoning a lifelong companion.

Juyin nodded slightly, seemingly unsurprised by his response.

"The Sect has made its arrangements," he said evenly. "Zinqi has already prepared for its relocation."

He lifted his cup again, exhaling softly before continuing, "However, I expect something in return."

Devor remained silent, waiting.

"In the future, I want you to either care for a Spiritual Tree of my choosing, or provide me with a unique and powerful poison-element Spiritual Tree of your own cultivation."

Before Devor could respond, Zinqi scoffed.

"That price is far too low," he remarked, folding his arms. "You're letting him off too easily."

Juyin smirked, his tone laced with amusement. "Unlike you, I'm not stingy. Naturally, I'll consider any additional requests he may have in the future."

Devor's brows furrowed slightly.

"…Senior," he said carefully. "I'm sorry, but my abilities aren't nearly advanced enough to care for a high-grade Spiritual Tree. If I attempted it now, I'd probably just damage it."

The Venom Spiritual Tree was still young, and Devor could communicate with it on a fundamental level.

But a fully matured Spiritual Tree?

That was something else entirely.

Older trees were stubborn, intelligent, and bound by ancient instincts.

They had their own wills. Their own preferences.

If he attempted to grow a Spiritual Plant Garden alongside them, there was a good chance they would reject the new growth—or worse, destroy the plants entirely before they had a chance to take root.

And that was only one of many potential challenges.

Juyin nodded as if he had expected this hesitation.

"Of course, you aren't capable of it now," he acknowledged. "But in the future—perhaps a hundred years from now—you may very well become one of the most influential cultivators in the cultivation world."

Devor nearly choked. "A h-hundred years?!"

Zinqi shook his head in amusement as Devor stared at Juyin in genuine shock.

For cultivators, a century was nothing more than a single breath in time—a standard unit by which legacies were measured.

But for Devor, who had not yet shed his mortal perception of time, a hundred years felt like an entire lifetime stretching endlessly before him.

Zinqi chuckled at his reaction.

"It's a reasonable timeframe," he said. "By then, if you survive, you'll no longer be thinking in mere decades. You'll understand that true cultivation is measured not in years, but in eras."

Devor exhaled slowly, his mind struggling to grasp the weight of those words.

A hundred years.

Could he truly envision what he would become by then?

Would he still be the same Devor?

Or would he have already stepped beyond what he once was—ascending to something far greater than he had ever imagined?