Chapter 35 – The Bloom and the Whip of Creation
I had scoured the farthest corners of Yggdrasil — hunting data, collecting fragments, chasing mysteries. But what happened that week wasn't something I had planned.
It was… an accident.
A ridiculous, beautiful accident that even the developers probably never expected someone to trigger this late in the game's life cycle.
---
It started with a simple curiosity.
After integrating ecosystems from nine different realms into Aeternum Sanctum, I decided to balance them — collect twenty flora species from each world.
Helheim, Niflheim, Muspelheim, Vanaheim, Jotunheim, Alfheim, Nidavellir, Midgard, and Asgard — each realm had its own rhythm, its own life.
So I traveled again.
Day and night, HIME and I cataloged glowing vines from Alfheim's forests, frost-blooming crystals from Niflheim, molten moss from Muspelheim's scorched cliffs.
By the end of the seventh day, my inventory overflowed with over 200 distinct flora specimens — every one compressed into crystalline form, categorized, and prepared for integration into the guild base.
Then, the world blinked.
---
[SYSTEM ALERT: UNKNOWN CONDITION MET]
[You have achieved the title: 'Seedbearer of the Nine Worlds.']
[Hidden System Trigger Detected – Generating Unique World-Class Artifact…]
Light poured from my avatar's hands, spiraling upward in a column of emerald and gold.
Data surged like a storm around me, and when it settled, something small floated before my eyes.
A slender branch — silver-green, lined with tiny shimmering leaves.
It pulsed softly, alive.
> "Ren-sama," HIME said, her tone tinted with awe. "World-Class energy signature detected. Artifact classification… confirmed."
"What?" I blinked, examining it. "I wasn't even trying—"
[World-Class Item Obtained: Olive Branch of Genesis]
---
WCI: Olive Branch of Genesis
Type: Creation / Environmental Manipulation
Description: A relic representing the eternal renewal of life. When planted into any terrain, the branch transmutes the surrounding area into a fertile zone, allowing vegetation of any type — even extinct or corrupted flora — to grow from the smallest fragment.
Effect:
Any organic matter touching soil within a 500-meter radius of the branch takes root and grows instantly.
Can resurrect lost or extinct flora data, provided a sample exists.
Purifies corrupted environments, negating decay-type and poison-type effects permanently.
Limitation:
Only one instance can exist per world.
The user cannot deploy another branch in overlapping regions.
---
I couldn't help but laugh.
All that effort over the years — all those raids, all those puzzles — and I'd stumbled onto a World-Class Item just by… gardening.
> "HIME," I said, shaking my head, "I think the game's rewarding me for having too much free time."
> "Unlikely," she replied evenly. "However, statistical probability of accidental WCI acquisition from passive collection: less than 0.00002 percent."
"So… miracle-level luck?"
> "Or the system simply decided you've been here long enough to deserve it."
I smirked. "I'll take that."
---
The funny thing? It didn't stop there.
Because after completing the flora catalog, I decided to do the same with fauna — mostly to balance the ecosystem models for the sanctum's simulations.
For seven days straight, I hunted and recorded creatures across all worlds.
In Helheim, I captured the data of skeletal wolves.
In Vanaheim, shimmering butterflies that produced mana pollen.
In Jotunheim, thunder lizards that absorbed storm currents.
I even risked Muspelheim's lava fields again, recording infernal drakes that nested inside rivers of molten stone.
By the seventh day, I had data crystals for over 200 fauna species — more than I could possibly need.
And just as I was about to hand them over to HIME for categorization, the sky cracked open again.
---
[SYSTEM ALERT: Secondary Condition Fulfilled]
[You have achieved the title: 'Beastmaster of Nine Worlds.']
[Hidden System Trigger Detected – Generating Unique World-Class Artifact…]
Another surge of data light — this time gold and crimson — filled the chamber, and when it faded, a new relic floated above my palm.
A whip — black and gold, braided like woven fire, pulsing with faint living energy.
Every strand shimmered as though alive, whispering softly.
> "Another WCI," HIME said simply. "You are remarkably consistent at defying probability, Ren-sama."
"Yeah," I muttered, half-stunned. "Now the game's just spoiling me."
---
WCI: Whip of Dominion
Type: Control / Summon Manipulation
Description: A relic that binds the will of the untamed.
Effect:
Instantly subdues any non-sentient creature within 200 meters, regardless of level.
Tames beasts, summons, or constructs of low intelligence, forcing obedience to the wielder's commands.
Can merge the consciousness of up to five tamed entities into a "beast legion" — a unified control network under the user's direction.
Limitation:
Ineffective against sentient beings or divine-class entities.
Continuous use drains mana at an exponential rate relative to the number of bound creatures.
---
I couldn't help but grin at the irony.
One relic that grows life.
Another that dominates it.
Balance, perhaps. Or poetic symmetry.
Either way, they fit together — two halves of creation and control.
> "Ren-sama," HIME said, her golden eyes gleaming, "with these two artifacts, the Aeternum Sanctum's ecosystem can now function indefinitely, even without you."
I nodded slowly. "Yeah… maybe that's the point."
---
The Sins of the World
For a time, I was content to just watch the sanctum flourish — trees blooming in impossible hues, creatures moving across the layers like they belonged there.
But curiosity never stayed silent for long.
Because while most of Yggdrasil had gone quiet, the whispers never stopped.
Rumors.
Of the World Enemies.
They were more than bosses — they were players, once.
Corrupted into avatars of sin, shaped by forbidden World-Class Items.
I had seen Envy fall years ago, consumed by his own reflection.
But new entities had surfaced since then — two more sins manifesting within the world's decaying code.
Lust.
Gluttony.
HIME brought me the compiled data late one evening, her tone clinical but tinged with intrigue.
> "Lust has been confirmed active within Muspelheim. Estimated level range: 110–115. Combat class: Illusion and Charm-type. Possesses area-of-effect mental contamination, capable of inducing frenzy, confusion, or madness in all entities within visual range."
> "Gluttony," she continued, "is located in Niflheim's deepest caverns. Elemental affinity: Absolute Fire. Offensive capability unmatched — capable of disintegrating data at the system level. Level range: 120–130."
Two monsters, two apocalypses.
And I could only fight one.
---
My decision was easy.
Lust — the sin of illusion, deception, manipulation — was the perfect mirror to my own path.
If I could defeat it, not only would it be poetic…
I might even understand the ultimate potential of illusion-based control.
> "HIME," I said, pulling up the world map, "cross-reference Lust's presence data with Muspelheim's recent terrain shifts."
> "Coordinates triangulated," she said. "Central lava ridge, elevation 4400 meters. Region: Crimson Veins Plateau. Estimated heat index: lethal to unprotected entities within two minutes."
"Perfect," I murmured. "Let's see what a dying world still hides at its core."
> "Shall I prepare the sanctum for departure?"
"Yeah," I said, gripping the glowing branch and whip now resting in my inventory. "Let's go hunt a sin."
---
The portal shimmered before me — a tear of golden flame leading straight into the burning skies of Muspelheim.
The heat pulsed through my armor, distorting the very air around me.
Ahead, rivers of magma flowed between jagged obsidian cliffs, painting the horizon in molten red.
Somewhere out there, hidden in the blaze, Lust waited — beautiful, terrible, and utterly dangerous.
And as I stepped through the portal, I couldn't help but smile.
> "HIME," I whispered, as the flames swallowed us, "time to test how far illusions can go against desire itself."
---
End of Chapter 35 – The Bloom and the Whip of Creation