Over three years had passed since the expedition to the Mystic Realm began, and more than half of the survivors had finally reached the vast region cast in the shade of the colossal tree.
Yet, due to the tree's unimaginable scale, with its canopy spanning at least tens of thousands of kilometers from one end to the other, many of these cultivators had not yet crossed paths. The shaded area itself was a world of its own, featuring sprawling mountains, deep valleys, and vast, still lakes.
For an average Core Formation Realm cultivator, traversing the full breadth of this shadow would theoretically take about three days of nonstop, full-speed flight. But such a feat was impossible; unlimited stamina was a fantasy, and the realm's restrictions made flight itself untenable. Factoring in the need to recover Qi, rest weary bodies, and navigate the challenging and varied terrains, a journey from one edge of the shade to the other could easily stretch to a full month. Such was the immense scale they were dealing with.
Many of the arrivals chose to hide from others deliberately, their sole intention being to scour the land for treasures and relics left behind by the extinct civilization. Unlike the weathered ruins elsewhere, the area beneath the colossal tree seemed miraculously preserved, as if time itself had been held at bay. The remnants of the once-enormous empire offered countless treasures related to alchemy, and any cultivator who managed to bring a piece of that legacy home could trigger a major advancement in their homeland's alchemical arts.
This past civilization was not confined to the surface. A complex network of underground tunnels and secret chambers honeycombs the earth, safeguarding valuables and housing the secrets of a bygone era. Naturally, the greatest concentration of wealth was at the center, near the immense trunk, where the most powerful and affluent of the ancient society had resided. This promise of unparalleled riches inexorably drew the cultivators inward.
As they converged, encounters became inevitable. Cultivators began to form groups, some by choice for mutual protection, others by force or necessity. These factions started to claim territories, understanding that controlling more land meant a greater chance of discovering priceless artifacts. Initially, skirmishes between these small groups were common as they fought over lucrative sites. However, the logic of power soon prevailed, and the smaller groups began to merge, absorbing one another to form larger, more formidable coalitions.
As of now, eight dominant groups had solidified their control, successfully carving up the most valuable land surrounding the colossal tree's trunk. Each group held sway over a cardinal or intercardinal direction, firmly claiming the North, Northeast, Northwest, West, East, South, Southeast, and Southwest regions for themselves.
Yet, the search for relics was only one part of their purpose. A more urgent and deeply personal reason fueled their consolidation of power. It concerned the portals, the very gateways they needed to return home. These portals were situated at the very apex of the colossal tree's trunk, a location that presented a seemingly insurmountable problem.
No one had managed to climb the tree.
A restriction, similar to the one that prevented flight, also forbade ascent. Any attempt to scale the immense trunk subjected the climber to a vast and crushing pressure that forced them down. Elaborate stairs had been built long ago, winding their way around the trunk, but they offered no reprieve from the oppressive force.
In both cases, the higher one climbed, the stronger the push became. The record for the highest climb, achieved using the stairs, stood at only twenty meters. The cultivator who managed it nearly died from the suppression. They had all tried countless times, but nothing seemed to work.
This meant that the entire city and palace complex surrounding the trunk, the ancient home of nobles, royalty, and the emperor, remained utterly out of reach. They could not even access these areas, which likely held the realm's most magnificent treasures, let alone ascend to the portals at the very top. This frustrating deadlock was a source of great anxiety for everyone.
It was a profound and universal problem. If they could not find a way to the portals, returning home would be impossible. They would be trapped here for a long time, perhaps even for the remainder of their lives.
Among the eight dominant factions, the West region was under the control of Prince Charles of the Protogaea Continent's Chirping Kingdom. He had been fortunate to reunite with his Royal Guards early in his journey. This allowed him to arrive at the colossal tree much sooner than most, establish a base to the west, and begin his expansion from a position of strength.
Inside the grandest mansion west of the colossal tree, a scene of quiet strategy was unfolding.
"Logan, how many people have joined us this month?" Prince Charles inquired. He did not look up from his chessboard, where he was playing a game against himself, thoughtfully rotating the board after each move. His face, as ever, was not without its subtle, knowing smile.
"Another two hundred and seventy-three people, Your Highness," a man with pronounced long sideburns replied. His name was Logan, the captain of Prince Charles's Royal Guards. He had arrived half a year ago, and from that point onward, the prince's group had become an unstoppable force, thoroughly solidifying their control over the western territory.
"Hoo. That means we have two thousand, six hundred and seventy-eight people with us now, right?" Prince Charles asked, his smile unwavering. His eyes remained fixed on the chessboard, contemplating the pieces. "How about it? Are we the biggest group yet?"
"Unfortunately, Your Highness, we have dropped to third," Logan replied. "Princess Waniwani's group managed to recruit over five hundred people last month. They now have more than twenty eight hundred followers, making them the largest faction."
Prince Charles finally stopped his game and turned to his subordinate, his lips forming an exaggerated pout. "Boo boo! This is so unfair! She arrived here much later than I did, and yet she has already gathered that many people. A beautiful woman truly has it easy. Not only does she attract a crowd of male admirers to join her circle, but women also flock to her because they feel safer with a woman in charge. It is truly unfair."
From the information he had gathered, he knew approximately thirty-five thousand people had entered the Mystic Realm, including those from the Cloud Continent. There were three portals from the Protogaea Continent and one from the Cloud Continent. Although he was not certain how many had survived the journey, his plan was to gather as many survivors as possible under his own banner.
Logan did not reply to his prince's lament and simply remained silent.
"Tell Franze, Soda, and the others to bring more people into our group," Prince Charles said, his tone shifting. A light, almost childish giggle escaped him. "They can be a little more persuasive this time. Hehe."
"Yes, Your Highness," Logan replied. He understood perfectly what the prince meant by "more persuasive."
"By the way, what about the cockroach tamer? Any news about him?" Prince Charles asked, stopping Logan just as he was about to leave.
"No, Your Highness. He has completely disappeared."
"Cheh, is that so? What a bummer. He was quite an interesting guy. It is too bad we could not catch him." With a sigh of disappointment, the prince turned back to his chessboard and resumed his solitary game.
---
On a certain rocky mountain.
"Why are we stopping here?" Leyvi asked, his curiosity piqued. They had only been traveling for two weeks since departing the island and were still several months away from reaching the colossal tree. There seemed to be no logical reason for such a stop.
The others also turned their attention to Anda, seeking an answer. The group's composition had changed. Among them were two unfamiliar figures, one male and one female, while Dastan and Tamina were conspicuously absent. The man wore an outfit similar to Victor's, and the woman was dressed in a panda-themed dress much like Anda's. Strangely, Tantan was perched comfortably on the man's shoulder.
"Well, this prince... ahem... I do not mind," the unfamiliar man said, clearing his throat slightly. "Traveling on that celestial cloud is quite boring." He found himself reminiscing about his previous adventure with Leyvi, which had been far more exciting. This journey, in comparison, had been uneventful.
The unfamiliar man and woman were, in fact, Crown Prince Dastan and his fiancée, Tamina. Anda had provided them with a face-changing cream, a tier-four alchemy product she had prepared while Leyvi was cultivating to obtain Spiritual Touch. The cream allowed them to alter the shape of their faces to their liking.
This was one of the precautionary measures Anda had devised to help Dastan avoid the assassination plot against him. Naturally, as his fiancée, Tamina had also changed her appearance to prevent being identified and potentially used as a hostage or lure.
Anda smiled mysteriously, her gaze sweeping over the barren landscape. "Someone will arrive here soon to join us," she announced.