Pov: Vik
The spatial fold opened seamlessly, and my boots touched down on the soft, emerald-green grass of the Great Fire Forest.
The contrast between the two worlds was immediate and jarring. One step ago, my ears had been filled with the relentless hum of West Oak City's mag-lev rails, neon holograms, and the chatter of millions of citizens. Here, inside the spatial barrier that sealed this forbidden land away from the rest of the world, the silence was absolute.
There were no birds chirping in the canopy. No insects buzzing in the undergrowth. No wind-borne howls of distant beasts.
Only the towering, ninety-meter-tall trees stood like silent green titans beneath the fading twilight sky, their leaves shimmering with dense, untouched vitality, and the crystal-clear water of the artificial pond rippling softly in the evening breeze. Ever since my little fire experiment a century ago wiped the slate clean, this massive expanse of mountains, rivers, and grasslands had belonged solely to the trees—and to us.
And right in the center of the wide clearing stood our home: the Anonymous Hall.
Even after looking at it every day, the structure still brought a faint smile to my face. Modeled directly after the World-Seed Foundation in my inner sea, a massive square bipyramidal structure floated majestically in the center, blending sleek sci-fi geometry with ancient arcane patterns. Extending outward from the central pyramid were long, pillar-like branches, each supporting a different auxiliary complex at its tip—an eastern-style pavilion here, a medieval stone tower there, and a futuristic dome housing Lina's laboratory on the far left.
CRACK-THUMP.
A single, sharp sound broke the stillness of the clearing.
I adjusted my spectacles, keeping one hand under Pushpa's belly as she slept draped across my collarbone, and walked past the pond toward the training plaza beneath the lower pillar.
In the center of the yard stood Noah.
His sleeves were rolled up past his elbows, his forearms dusted with pale wood powder. Before him sat a massive log of seasoned iron-bark oak. He didn't roar, nor did he flare any flashy elemental aura. He simply rested his index and middle fingers against the top grain of the wood, drew a slow breath deep into his abdomen, and pushed.
CRACK.
A two-foot slab of iron-bark sheared off cleanly and tumbled onto the neatly stacked pile beside his boots—forty-nine logs split down the middle without a single splinter out of place.
Noah exhaled slowly, wiping his brow with the back of his wrist before turning to face me. Seeing me in my grey city trench coat with Pushpa curled around my neck, he immediately bowed.
"Welcome back, Master," Noah said, his voice calm and grounded. "I have one log remaining in today's set."
"Finish the fiftieth, then rest," I said, reaching into my coat pocket and tossing two vacuum-sealed alloy canisters toward him.
Noah caught them cleanly without making a sound.
"Refined star-iron sediment and deep-sea calcium from West Oak City," I explained mildly. "Your kinetic control over your muscle fibers is nearly complete, Noah, and your Chaos Titan Body foundation is stable. However, pushing your marrow to the next stage requires raw mineral density. Mix two spoonfuls of this into your water before you sleep tonight."
Noah looked down at the canisters, his eyes tightening with quiet resolve. "Thank you, Master. I will make sure none of its efficacy is wasted."
Leaving Noah to finish his final strike, I stepped onto the ascending walkway that led up into the central bipyramidal hall.
System: "Host, I must admit, returning to this dead forest always gives my sensors a weird sense of relief. At least here, there are no living creatures for your pet to accidentally erase from the timeline."
Vik: 'And no faulty city scanners for you to blame on her, either. Honestly, System, look at her—she hasn't moved an inch since she ate that last fried anchovy on the bridge. If she were an Outer God, would she be snoring in my ear right now?'
System: "...I refuse to answer that question on the grounds that it might attract her attention."
Shaking my head at the chatbot's incurable paranoia, I entered the warm, brightly lit interior of the Residential Complex.
The savory aroma of roasted spiritual herbs and simmering broth immediately greeted me. Down in the open dining hall, Lu Xiaoran was sitting cross-legged at the long wooden table with his parents, laughing brightly as he poured tea for his mother. His ethereal white hair—the mark of his Transcendence Heaven physique after his first Nirvana transformation—was tied back neatly with a simple black ribbon, making him look less like the depressed, crippled exile I had once found in the woods and more like a carefree young noble enjoying a quiet evening.
Over by the open kitchen counter, Roman stood before the stove.
Ever since his Nirvana rebirth turned him from a fifty-five-year-old butler into a tall, striking man in his late twenties with white hair tipped in blue and sharp purple eyes, he looked like a western war god who had somehow lost his way and ended up wearing an apron. And right beside his elbow stood Sherry, holding a basket of peeled spirit-fruits and leaning in as close as humanly possible while asking him how to slice the roots.
Roman's face remained an unmoving mask of stoic discipline, though he subtly shifted half an inch to the left every time her shoulder brushed his arm—only for Sherry to cheerfully take half a step to the left to close the gap again.
"Master is back!" Lu Xiaoran called out, standing up quickly along with his parents to bow.
"Sit, sit, don't interrupt your dinner," I waved a hand warmly, walking over to the counter. Pushpa finally woke up at the smell of Roman's cooking, lifting her little black head and letting out a soft, expectant mrrp.
"Master," Roman greeted, bowing his head respectfully while setting down his cleaver. "I kept a portion of steamed river-perch warm in the array-oven for you and Pushpa."
"Always reliable, Roman," I smiled, setting Pushpa down on the counter stool, where she immediately sat upright with her tail curled around her paws, waiting politely for her bowl. "Though I didn't bring back kitchen ingredients today, I did bring back a few toys for our resident shut-in. Has Lina come out of the cultivation hall yet?"
Roman and Lu Xiaoran exchanged a brief, helpless glance.
"She cultivated for precisely the three hours you ordered, Master," Roman reported deadpan. "Then she bolted back toward the Artifact Lab branch at full speed. About twenty minutes ago, the lights on the western pillar flickered purple twice."
I let out a long, quiet sigh, rubbing the bridge of my nose beneath my spectacles.
Vik: 'Give a girl an immortal cultivation technique, and all she wants to do is build plasma cannons.'
System: "To be fair, Host, you are the one who taught her physics and nuclear fission alongside spiritual energy. You created that monster yourself."
"Eat your dinner," I told the group, pulling the six high-density plasma capacitors and the spool of superconducting wire out of my sleeve space and weighing them in my palm. "Once Pushpa finishes her fish, I am going to the lab to inspect her physical training personally—before she decides to turn the western branch into a launchpad."