Art of Creation [Eco-Cultivation Prototype]

A hundred years.

It sounded impossibly long, yet Devor knew that, for cultivators, it was merely a single breath in the grand cycle of time.

He would grow immensely in that span—of that, he had no doubt. But growth alone didn't guarantee success.

He had no way of predicting the future.

With that in mind, Devor spoke, his voice steady as he met Juyin's gaze. "Senior, I won't promise something uncertain. I can't say for sure that I'll meet your expectations a hundred years from now."

Juyin regarded him in silence, his sharp gaze unreadable. Then, he spoke. "Zinqi gave you the Ethereal Void Tree, didn't he?"

A flicker of surprise flashed across Devor's face.

His eyes darted toward Zinqi, who sat beside him, calm as ever.

The Ethereal Void Tree—an existence beyond the Mortal World, something that could only be found in the Immortal World. It was a treasure of unparalleled rarity, and for now, it remained a well-kept secret.

Devor had never spoken of it openly.

How did Juyin know?

Zinqi, sensing his confusion, offered a faint smile.

"I reached out to a few people to find a seller with powerful Spiritual Trees," he said casually. "Juyin was one of them."

Devor's expression shifted slightly.

Juyin had merely nurtured the Spiritual Tree in its early stages; he had not acquired it through his own abilities or efforts.

Instead, he had leveraged certain connections to obtain the exact Spiritual Tree he desired, suggesting that his influence extended beyond what Devor had initially assumed.

Devor exhaled and gave a small nod. "Sect Master did give me the tree."

Then, after a brief pause, he added, "But I haven't planted it yet. It's still sealed away. I… don't have the ability to care for something that rare."

It was like when he had first attempted to cultivate a Sky-Grade Spiritual Plant in his garden, only to fail miserably.

Now, Devor understood.

Some things couldn't be rushed.

He had to lay the foundation, perfect his craft, before he even considered handling something on the level of the Ethereal Void Tree.

Juyin smirked. "If you manage to form a connection with that tree, your cultivation will evolve in ways you can't even imagine."

Then, after a moment, he added, "Besides… I have a feeling you won't stop with the Venom Spiritual Tree. You'll seek out others, just as you always have—cultivating them, drawing strength from them, forging your own path."

Devor remained silent.

There was no need to answer.

Anyone who had observed him long enough would have already seen the path he was walking.

Juyin leaned back slightly, his gaze still locked onto Devor.

"Your approach to nurturing Spiritual Trees is unlike anyone else's," he continued. "You don't limit yourself to a single element—instead, you take every force available, weaving them together, refining them into something new."

He let his words sink in before adding,

"Right now, you're focused on advancing the evolution of Spiritual Plants. But in the future…" Juyin's lips curved into a knowing smile. "…You'll do the same for Spiritual Trees."

An unsettling realization settled in Devor's chest.

Juyin was speaking of things that had not yet happened.

And yet—

The moment he heard those words, Devor knew they would come true.

His path was already unfolding before him.

Juyin's voice lowered, turning almost contemplative.

"Perhaps…" He studied Devor carefully. "…You might be the reason I make it to the Immortal World."

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Devor's breath hitched.

The Immortal World.

Juyin's words echoed in his mind, the weight of them pressing against him.

Expectations like that felt… excessive.

Devor frowned slightly. "Sect Master mentioned a competition—one hosted by the Immortal World. The winner will be accepted into an Immortal Sect and granted passage there."

He hesitated before continuing, "If they're willing to bring young cultivators into the Immortal World, shouldn't someone like Senior be able to enter with their help?"

Surely, there had to be multiple ways to ascend—not just for the younger generation, but for the older cultivators who had spent centuries refining their Dao.

But Zinqi only shook his head.

"They don't allow older cultivators to enter the Immortal World," he explained. "They only want young blood—those whose potential remains untapped."

Juyin exhaled softly.

"Of course, older cultivators also have untapped potential," he said. "But the Immortal World doesn't care about that. They only seek the next generation—those who can be molded into their system before they grow too strong to control."

Zinqi's eyes darkened slightly.

"It's not a matter of power," he continued. "It's about control."

A silence settled between them.

And then, with a quiet sigh, Zinqi added,

"In the past, the older generation of cultivators gathered and formally requested entry into the Immortal World."

"We were denied."

Devor's gaze sharpened.

"The Immortal Sects allowed trade between their world and ours," Juyin added. "But at the same time… they took all of our most promising young talents for themselves."

The words carried a weight—not just of history, but of resentment.

They weren't just reminiscing about a past event.

They were speaking of a wound that had never healed.

Devor had never given much thought to the structure of the Immortal World, nor the reasons why so few cultivators ever reached it.

But now…

He couldn't ignore it.

Devor frowned.

Something about this felt wrong.

The Immortal World painted itself as a land of enlightenment and opportunity, yet the more he learned, the more it seemed like an unreachable fortress—one that only accepted those who fit within its designs.

Was it truly a realm of higher cultivation?

Or was it merely another system of control, ensuring only those chosen by the Immortals themselves could ever ascend?

He exhaled slowly. In the end, everyone had an agenda. Even him.

Nobody acted without a reason.

"What about the people from this world who have already reached the Immortal World?" Devor asked, his curiosity sharpening. "Has there been no word from them?"

Zinqi sighed, his expression calm yet weighted.

"Unfortunately, no."

A pause. Then he explained, "Once someone enters the Immortal World, returning to their original realm isn't easy. Think of it like trying to step into a painting—you can see it, but you can't simply walk inside. There are laws, fundamental differences that make it impossible."

Devor's frown deepened. "Then how do they enter our realm so easily?"

"They have their own ways," Juyin replied, his voice laced with something unreadable. "Just as they can pluck young cultivators from this world, they can descend whenever they wish."

A chill crept down Devor's spine.

This wasn't balance.

This was a one-sided system of absolute control.

He clenched his fists beneath the table. "Is there any way to reach the Immortal World besides relying on them?"

Zinqi's voice remained steady. "If we reach the Half-Immortal Realm, we'll be able to ascend on our own."

Half-Immortal.

The words carried weight—far heavier than Devor had anticipated.

"How far is that from where I stand now?" he asked, already bracing himself for the answer.

Zinqi smiled faintly. "After the Nascent Soul Realm, the next levels are Soul Formation, Void, and Monarch Realm."

Devor's stomach tightened. "That many!?"

Zinqi's smirk grew as he continued, "Beyond that is the Transcendence Realm—the peak of cultivation in this world. And only after reaching the Half-Immortal Realm can we begin to dream of ascending."

Devor's mind raced.

That meant there were nine major realms—and the tenth, the Half-Immortal Realm, was the threshold.

The moment someone reached it, they would no longer be bound by this world.

But that also meant…

Very few had ever made it that far.

"This is the reason the Azure Sky Sect and the Nine Great Sects formed an alliance," Zinqi continued. "We train every talented disciple in various survival techniques—just like the competition you participated in before."

Devor's breath hitched.

That competition—

At the time, he had thought it was just a test of skill, a chance for young cultivators to prove themselves.

But now, as he listened to Zinqi…

He understood.

The tournament had never been about the process.

It was about the results.

"Our goal," Zinqi said evenly, "is that if one of them manages to be chosen and reaches the Immortal World, they can find a way back and finally reveal the truth about what happens there."

A heavy silence followed.

Devor's mind pieced everything together.

The Ten Sect Alliance—formed not out of unity, but out of necessity.

They weren't simply nurturing talent.

They were sending spies into the Immortal World.

Something uneasy settled in Devor's chest.

What if no one was allowed to return?

What if every cultivator who entered the Immortal World was either bound to their system—or erased if they refused to comply?

He swallowed hard.

He finally understood why Juyin, Zinqi, and the others protected talented cultivators so carefully.

It wasn't kindness.

It was investment.

Each promising genius was a carefully cultivated piece in their grand plan.

And to the Ten Sect Alliance—

To Juyin.

To Zinqi.

To every powerful cultivator in this world who still sought a way in—

Devor was just another tool.

Another carefully sharpened blade to be offered up to the Immortals.

Just like Juyin once had been.

A bitter smirk crossed Devor's lips.

Nothing in this world came without a price.

Sooner or later, he would have to pay—whether in servitude, in sacrifice, or in blood.

But strangely…

He felt calm.

For the first time, he could see things clearly—the hands pulling the strings, the true motives behind the smiles and promises.

He was no longer walking in ignorance.

He knew exactly what they wanted from him.

And if he didn't?

Then he simply had to be wary.

Maybe he was just a pawn in a game far greater than himself.

Maybe, one day, he would be discarded, sacrificed, or silenced.

But until then…

He would use every resource they gave him.

He would grow stronger.

He would climb higher and faster than anyone expected.

And by the time they realized what he had become—

It would already be too late for them to control him.

His fate would be his to shape, and he would repay every debt in his own way. For those who had aided him, he would return their kindness with strength befitting his own.