Chapter 111: The Tree of Life

The great tree had a trunk deeply wrinkled, rough yet healthy, its green leaves bursting with vitality. Massive, sturdy roots rose high from the ground, twisting and extending in all directions. Beneath the roots, a spring bubbled forth, its water shimmering with clear, bright light, nourishing the surrounding fertile soil.

Legend had it that the Tree of Life was grown from a seed that had fallen from the divine realm. In the god domain, saplings of the Tree of Life were everywhere, though they never bloomed or bore fruit. There were saplings in the southern forests as well, but none on the central continent, which was probably because the dark aura was too thick near the original battlefield where the Holy City was located.

Ling Xiaolei explained:

“This entire continent’s saplings of the Tree of Life all originate from the same mother tree, their roots interconnected! Extending from the god realm all the way here!”

Black Feather couldn’t help but sigh at such a miracle. From the god realm to here—what a vast distance! No wonder people on the continent regarded this tree as their faith.

Black Feather and White Saint Ye walked into the faint blue glow cast by the trees, immediately feeling invigorated and full of strength.

“Esteemed magicians, let’s rest here tonight,” suggested the simple villager. “It’s said that within the range of the Tree of Life, demonic beasts dare not approach. Travelers on long journeys treat the Tree of Life as a relay station along the way. We still have a long way to the Holy Guard Village, so there’s no rush to set out tomorrow.”

“All right, let’s do it here,” Black Feather said, feeling tired as well. He leaned against the tree roots to rest, scooped up some spring water to drink. The water was sweet like honey, nourishing his heart and spleen, and his magic power and stamina recovered instantly. “Indeed miraculous.”

“Of course,” Ling Xiaolei said. “The spring water flowing beneath the Tree of Life is the source of all magical energy on the continent. Just one sip can restore all one’s mana. All living beings on the continent rely on the Tree of Life for their growth.”

Ling Xiaolei cupped a handful of cool spring water; the water rippled, reflecting in her amber eyes.

“Wan Liu Gui Zong…” Black Feather suddenly recalled this phrase. He had seen it on the circular platform with the nine major magical system stone pillars in the library. Now lying beneath the Tree of Life, gazing up at the canopy, it suddenly dawned on him.

He reached into his backpack and took out “Dark Spell: Space-Time Art,” flipping through it. What had previously been those profound and unfathomable parts gradually became a bit clearer to him.

“Space-time art… is it the origin of everything?” he murmured to himself.

White Saint Ye unstrapped his heavy medicine box from his body, placing it on the interlacing tree roots. Three thick roots encircled it like a small bed. He reclined against them, hands behind his head. After walking such a long way, even the medicine box could count as weight training.

Ling Xiaolei was still talking without pause:

“The Tree of Life is also our dark elves’ faith. Legends about the Tree of Life are plentiful! Since ancient times, people have prayed beneath the tree, listened to divine decrees, and communicated with the gods. The fruits of the tree are said to contain divine power, and the canopy of the highest Tree of Life mother tree is said to connect to the heavenly realm…”

Black Feather lay comfortably on his back beneath the tree, the natural glow from the trunk illuminating the nearby area brightly even in the night. Listening to Ling Xiaolei’s narration, he unconsciously drifted into sleep.

Whether due to the sweet spring water at the entrance or the tranquil blue light surrounding the tree, in his dream, soft, gentle, and exquisite white clouds rose beneath his feet. In an instant, he found himself in the clouds, with a golden light before his eyes.

In this dreamlike illusion, suddenly a solemn and familiar voice rang from above:

“Great Archangel.”

Black Feather startled, looking around. Beneath his feet were vast, soft white clouds, gently supporting his body; he felt no weight.

“Great Archangel!” he heard another call. Lifting his head again, a person stood before him. More accurately, it was a heavenly god.

Because he wore a white robe different from the human realm’s attire, with golden hair and golden eyes, a just countenance, holding a staff of unknown material, two thick white wings like shells embracing his shoulders, feathers falling to his feet, sinking into the clouds.

His face was both familiar and strange, causing Black Feather to inexplicably feel both nostalgia and repulsion. He asked:

“How do you feel about that place in the human realm filled with slaughter, greed, arrogance, injustice, and lies? How about those dirty and lowly species you’ve come into contact with?”

Black Feather, hearing his question, pondered.

In the dream, he felt he had entered another body not his own. His tongue was tied, answering with hesitant words:

“The human realm isn’t bad at all. There are real feelings among people…”

Though he wasn’t satisfied with his answer, there were too many things he wanted to say but couldn’t find the right words.

Since birth, he had lived in the human realm. For him, what exactly was the true human realm? The scenery and people here were all too rich; he didn’t know which word or sentence could represent the human realm.

The heavenly god heard his answer, his expression darkening:

“You have fallen for too long…”

After saying this, his figure suddenly vanished, leaving only the echo of his words repeatedly circling in Black Feather’s mind.

Upon waking from the dream, it was already dawn. Sunlight bathed everything, and before him was again that verdant, serene forest of trees.

Black Feather flipped over, large swaths of swaying tree shadows covering the grass ahead, with spots of wildflowers and red mushrooms scattered about. The sights from his dream vanished from his mind, unable to recall anything.

He vaguely remembered only that he had been to the clouds and seen a heavenly god. Recalling what Ling Xiaolei had said—“listening to divine decrees” and “communicating with the gods”—he dismissed it as an illusion from sleeping under the tree, not giving it much thought.

White Saint Ye also woke up, lazily stretching and arranging his rumpled clothes. Ling Xiaolei was still sleeping soundly against the tree root, with a blissful expression.

The Tree of Life was shrouded in dim light at night, but in the daytime, it was completely invisible. The bright sunlight illuminated the earth.

“Should we set off for the Holy Guard Village now?” White Saint Ye said.

Black Feather kicked Ling Xiaolei with his foot. “Hey!”

She slid off the root she was hugging and tumbled to the ground, coming to her senses.

“Let’s go.” Black Feather stood up, dusting off his clothes, and picked up his backpack. Everyone set off together.

While continuing their journey energetically, they intentionally searched for surrounding monsters in the middle of the way. When the guiding villager heard that they wanted to hunt demonic beasts, he hid warily behind them.

After unfolding the perception net, Ling Xiaolei summoned the demon Greedy Wolf to scout for prey in the surrounding far range.

“Ah! Demon!”