Chương 261: True Life

There was no warning, no gradual buildup, just a sudden tsunami of pure blue sun energy that crashed into me with such force that it would have drove a normal initiate to their knees. But I had the Genesis Seed, and it responded instantly, spreading its protective branches over my inner world. The energy didn't so much enter me as it was filtered through the Seed, which absorbed the raw power and purified it before passing it to my inner world's blue sun.

"That was... intense," I thought to Azure as I sat down on the cushion and got into the meditative stance that Thara taught me.

"I'm beginning to understand why some candidates burn out."

"The Cerulean Spire appears to be a natural amplifier," Azure observed.

"The concentration of blue sun energy here must be at least ten times greater than in the Meditation Hall." During my practice sessions, we'd determined that allowing my blue sun to grow to approximately five times its original size would place me somewhere in the middle of the pack, respectable enough to justify my presence among the candidates but not exceptional enough to win the position of Saint.

Even with the quality and quantity of energy here being significantly higher than in the training halls, the same principle should apply. The math was straightforward: if everyone's capacity remained the same but the rate of energy input increased tenfold, then logically, everyone would reach their maximum absorption point in roughly one-tenth the time. So, instead of using time as our primary metric, we decided to use the blue sun's growth.

With a target of 5 times the original size confirmed, I settled into the rhythm of meditation. But it wasn't long before something unexpected began to happen. The Cerulean Vein, now fully activated and channeling enormous amounts of energy provided to it by my blue sun, started to emit a soft, pulsing glow that spread throughout my inner world. The light touched the artificial trees I'd created in the Northeast quadrant, and for a moment, they seemed to shiver as if caught in a breeze that didn't exist.

Then color began to seep into the previously monochrome structures. The lifeless wood took on varied hues of brown, from rich mahogany to pale birch. Bark textures became more pronounced, rough and ridged in some places, smooth in others. Most remarkably, tiny buds appeared at the tips of branches, swelling and then unfurling into delicate leaves that captured the blue sun's light. What had been mere decorative elements were transforming into living organisms.

"Azure," I called silently, "are you seeing this?"

"Yes, Master. The Cerulean Vein appears to be channeling life energy into your creations. It's as if the blue sun energy is awakening potential that was dormant in these forms." I watched in wonder as the process continued, spreading from tree to tree throughout the garden quadrant. These weren't temporary manifestations like the momentary "almost-living" quality the trees had displayed when the blue sun passed over them before.

This was a true transformation, the wooden sculptures were becoming actual trees with functioning biological systems.

"The life comprehension crystal," I whispered, moving through my inner world to touch one of the newly living trees. Its bark felt warm and slightly rough against my spiritual fingers, a sensation far more complex than the smooth wood of my original creations.

"It showed me how to do this, but I didn't have the ability to attempt it until now."

"The Cerulean Vein provides the perfect conduit for life realm energy," Azure nodded.

"Its Arboreal Spiral design is naturally attuned to life and growth." An idea sparked in my mind. If the blue sun energy channeled through my Cerulean Vein could awaken the dormant potential in my tree sculptures, what else might be possible? Could I actively direct this process rather than merely allowing it to happen spontaneously? I focused on a small section of the garden quadrant where I had yet to create any sculptures or structures, just bare soil waiting for future projects.

Reaching out with my consciousness, I gathered a stream of the blue sun energy being channeled through my Cerulean Vein and directed it toward this empty patch. I visualized a grove of saplings, not fully formed trees, but young ones just beginning their growth. I remembered what the comprehension crystal had shown me about kindling the first sparks of life, about coaxing complexity from simplicity.

The soil in my inner world contained the elements needed for life, nutrients, minerals, the building blocks of organic matter. What it lacked was the organizing principle, the spark that would arrange these components into a living system. I concentrated, infusing the visualization with layers of meaning as I had learned to do when creating my Cerulean Vein. Growth. Transformation. The cycle of seasons. The stretching of roots into soil and branches toward light.

I poured these concepts into the stream of blue energy, willing it to catalyze the dormant potential in the earth. For several moments, nothing happened. Then, gradually, the surface of the soil began to stir. Tiny green shoots pushed upward, unfurling slender stems and miniature leaves. They grew visibly, inches at a time, reaching upward with an almost eager quality.

Within minutes, a cluster of saplings stood where there had been only bare ground, their leaves trembling slightly in my inner world's gentle breeze.

"It worked," I breathed, amazed at what I had accomplished.

"They're actually alive." I moved closer, examining my creations. They weren't just animations or imitations of life, they were the real thing, with functioning biological processes. I could sense the movement of nutrients from soil to leaves, the respiration occurring in their tissues, the slow but purposeful growth continuing in roots and branches.

"Impressive," Azure commented, circling the grove of saplings.

"Though there's a limitation you should be aware of." I raised an eyebrow, prompting him to continue.

"These plants are surviving primarily because of the constant stream of blue sun energy," he explained, gesturing toward the glowing Cerulean Vein.

"While they've achieved biological functions, they're still dependent on this artificial support. To truly thrive, they'll need other elements of a complete ecosystem: water cycles, insect pollinators, soil microorganisms, balanced temperatures, and so on." This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. He was right, of course. I had created living trees, but not a living ecosystem.

The plants might survive for a time on the energy I was providing, but eventually, they would require the complex web of relationships that sustained life in natural environments.

"Let me try something more ambitious," I said, feeling emboldened by my success. I redirected my focus to another section of the garden quadrant, this time envisioning not just plants but a more complete microenvironment. I already had the soil and now living plants, what I needed next was water. In the Northwest quadrant of my inner world, the mountain ranges contained deep valleys that I had designated for future rivers.

If I could create actual flowing water in those channels, it might begin the hydrological cycle my growing ecosystem would need. I concentrated, attempting to draw on the water essence I had absorbed in the past. Water had always been more difficult for me to work with than wood but the principles were similar. Water, like wood, followed patterns. It flowed, it pooled, it evaporated and condensed, creating cycles of movement that sustained life.

Gathering another stream of blue sun energy, I directed it toward the empty river valleys, visualizing clear water welling up from underground springs, collecting into pools, and then flowing downward through the channels toward the garden quadrant. The results were... underwhelming. A thin trickle of moisture appeared at the head of one valley, seeping slowly downward like morning dew rather than the robust stream I had envisioned.

It moved perhaps a few yards before seeping into the ground and disappearing entirely.

"Not quite the mighty river you were hoping for?" Azure observed with a hint of amusement. I sighed.

"Water is clearly not my strong suit."

"It's not necessarily a matter of elemental affinity," Azure responded.

"Remember what Professor Thara mentioned about Lightweaver techniques, they work best through mediums that help focus and express meaning. You're trying to create a river directly, without a suitable medium to channel your intent."

"So I need... what? A painting of a river?" I asked, considering the Lightweaver methods I had briefly explored. Azure nodded.

"When you begin painting, you'll likely find it much easier to complete your ecosystem. The medium provides a bridge between your intention and the manifestation." That made sense. Despite my life comprehension knowledge, I was still limited by the mechanisms available to me for expressing that understanding. The Cerulean Vein worked wonderfully for plant life because of its Arboreal Spiral design, but it wasn't optimized for other elements of an ecosystem.

For that reason, I decided to experiment more with plant life.

"Let's try create spiritual plants," I proposed, focusing my attention on an empty patch of ground. Unlike normal flora, these had complex energy structures, often developed over hundreds or thousands of years of absorbing specific types of qi. Some could enhance cultivation, others could heal wounds or purify toxins, and the rarest could even extend lifespan or unlock hidden potential.

Unfortunately, I couldn't recall anything specific about any of the spiritual plants I'd come across in my time in the library but luckily for me I had Azure. He provided the details for the Ember Root, a moderately rare spiritual herb that grew in volcanic soil and was prized for its ability to warm the body's core and protect against cold-natured poisons. Its distinctive red leaves and orange root system should be relatively simple to reproduce compared to more exotic varieties.

I visualized the Ember Root in detail, from its fiery coloration to its internal energy circulation. Then, drawing on the life comprehension I'd gained from the crystal, I attempted to create not just its physical form but its spiritual properties as well. I channeled blue sun energy through my Cerulean Vein, focusing it with precise intention. A small sprout emerged from the soil, its stem a promising crimson hue. For a moment, I thought I had succeeded.

But as it grew, the color began to fade, turning to a conventional green. The distinctive energy signature I had tried to imbue it with dissipated, leaving nothing but an ordinary seedling behind.

"Hmm," I murmured, studying my failed creation.

"Not quite what I was aiming for."

"An interesting result," Azure observed.

"You've created life, but not the specific type you intended." I frowned, considering what had gone wrong.

"I understood its physical structure well enough, but the spiritual properties..."

"Spiritual plants aren't just shaped by their genetics," Azure explained.

"They develop their unique properties through prolonged exposure to specific energy sources and environmental conditions. The Ember Root absorbs and processes volcanic qi for decades before it develops its characteristic warmth."

"So, I'd need to understand and recreate not just its form, but the entire process of its spiritual development," I concluded.

"Precisely," Azure nodded.

"You would need to deconstruct a real Ember Root, analyze how it processes and stores energy, then recreate those internal structures and fill them with the appropriate type of qi." That made sense. The alternative would be to create the perfect environment for spiritual plants and let them develop naturally over the years instead of trying to directly bring them to existence. After what felt like hours of experimentation (though who could tell with the time distortion), I paused to assess my progress.

The garden quadrant now contained dozens of living trees of varying species and sizes, patches of flowering plants, and even some ferns and mosses growing in the shadier areas. The mountain quadrant had a few small springs and seeps, though nothing approaching the river system I'd envisioned. It was progress, certainly, but far from the vibrant, self-sustaining environment I'd hoped to establish.

"You're being too ambitious," Azure said, interrupting my somewhat disappointed assessment.

"Remember that even the Celestial Sovereign took time to develop a complete ecosystem. You're trying to accomplish in hours what naturally takes decades or centuries." I nodded, acknowledging the wisdom in his words.

"You're right. I should focus on smaller victories for now."

"Besides," Azure added, "each living element you've added strengthens your inner world. Even these partial successes are valuable for your cultivation progress." That was an important point. The development of an inner world was a crucial aspect of my cultivation journey. The more complex and vibrant it became, the higher I could climb through the realms. Many cultivators stalled precisely because their inner worlds lacked the necessary depth and vitality to support further advancement.

By establishing actual living organisms in my inner world, I was creating a foundation for future growth. Each tree, each flower, each drop of water, they all contributed to the overall complexity of my spiritual space. Given time and continued effort, this foundation could potentially support advancement to the Life Realm and beyond.

"Master, the blue sun has now reached our target threshold," Azure's voice pulled me out of my thoughts.

"It's currently 5 times its baseline size." I nodded, both relieved and slightly disappointed. Part of me had enjoyed the experimentation, enjoying the creative possibilities the blue sun energy and my new comprehension offered. It would be difficult to make similar progress outside of the Cerulean Spire, nowhere else could compare to the quality or quantity of blue sun energy it contained.

"You're right," I sighed, returning my awareness to the physical chamber around me. The chamber looked exactly as it had when I entered, though the blue light seemed perhaps a touch brighter, whether from increased sensitivity in my perception or actual changes in the room, I couldn't tell. I uncrossed my legs, stretching slightly to relieve the stiffness of prolonged meditation, then stood and approached the formation panel by the door.

It glowed with a soft azure light, waiting for my touch to signal the end of my test.

"How do you think we did?" I asked Azure as I raised my hand toward the panel.

"Based on our calculations and the blue sun's growth, I would estimate we've performed at approximately the 60th to 70th percentile of candidate capacity," he replied.

"Certainly respectable, but well below what would be expected of the top contender."

"Perfect," I nodded, satisfied with this assessment.

"Enough to justify continued training and access to academy resources, but not enough to win the Saint position or draw unwanted attention from higher-ranking Lightweavers like Kal."

"Unless," Azure cautioned, "the quality of your absorption is somehow being measured separately from the quantity. The elder did mention that 'quality of resonance' was also a factor." That was a valid concern, but there was little I could do about it now.

"Let's hope for the best." With that, I pressed my palm firmly against the formation panel and stepped into the portal.