Zamian’s eyes continued shining with a strong white light as he moved with precision, leaning in to get a closer look at Bohlo’s back without touching him.

  Staring at the glowing mark on his friend’s skin, he nodded inwardly. ‘Yes, it looks like a leaf.’

  He was trying to understand the situation, but his instincts weren’t helping at all. They only whispered about enhancing his body, managing his essence efficiently, and controlling his strength better.

  It was all about him, and not a single whisper was about whatever was happening to Bohlo.

  ‘Useless,’ he cursed in his mind, using his enhanced vision to track the glow of the leaf while absorbing every visual detail he could. His heightened hearing focused on the imaginary spheres of sound where he could better listen to Bohlo’s breathing, his heartbeat, and even the rushing of his blood.

  The blood was flowing faster and faster, while Bohlo’s breathing slowed.

  ‘Hmm?’ Zamian narrowed his eyes, suddenly noticing the leaf glowing just a bit brighter.

  His eyes widened as he heard Bohlo’s heart rate spike, syncing with the pulse of the glow.

  He didn’t need his instincts to tell him the connection between the mark and his friend’s condition—he was smart enough to figure that out on his own.

  However, Zamian had no idea what to do. His strength, akin to that of a Chosen, was useless in this situation. ‘I can’t just punch this leaf and be done with it,’ he thought in dismay.

  As his mind raced, the leaf glowed a little brighter.

  Bohlo’s heart skipped a few beats.

  Scowling, Zamian moved his right index finger and pressed it against the mark.

  He acted quickly, refusing to let himself get lost in an endless spiral of thoughts.

  The moment his finger touched Bohlo’s skin, he noticed two things.

  One, his friend’s body was burning with fever. Two, the marked area was significantly harder than the rest.

  ‘This isn’t just a mark.’ Zamian’s eyes flashed with white light. ‘There’s a leaf-shaped object beneath his skin.’

  The reason Zamian didn’t believe it was a real leaf but some object was because it felt far too hard. And besides, common leaves didn’t glow inside people’s bodies.

  Keeping pressure on it, Zamian saw the leaf growing brighter, almost as if it were reacting to his touch.

  Receiving no warning from his instincts, he relied on his own deductions to decide what to do next.

  That was why, a second after the leaf pulsed once more, Zamian sent Light essence to his fingernail and swiftly cut Bohlo’s skin. He shoved his index finger and thumb inside his friend’s body, pulling out the green leaf the moment he felt it.

  ‘Blighted thing,’ he cursed as the leaf tried to burrow into his finger, drawing blood but failing to pierce his hardened muscles. Luckily, It could not go any deeper.

  ‘Wait.’ He narrowed his eyes, puzzled because his instincts did not react to the assault and were completely ignoring the green leaf.

  Shaking his head, he held the leaf tighter and turned his focus back to Bohlo. ‘He is more important than this.’

  Using his free hand, he turned Bohlo side to side, stripping the big man and checking every inch of his skin for any other marks. He found none.

  At the same time, he noticed Bohlo’s breathing returning to a steady rhythm, his heart rate slowing down.

  Exhaling in relief, he muttered, “You nearly gave me eight heart attacks, B.”

  Kneeling beside his friend, he stopped enhancing his body with essence but chose to keep the Luminous Senses technique active.

  “Protect,” Zamian murmured, glancing at Bohlo before shifting his gaze to the green leaf that was still cutting into his hand. “The quest isn’t complete, so I’ll keep protecting you, big guy.”

  He considered destroying the leaf, but the way his instincts refused to react to it made him hesitate. There was another method he wanted to try.

  “Maybe I can destroy you the same way I destroyed the Seed of Creation,” he whispered under his breath.

  Time passed, and the green essence surrounding Bohlo thinned. His now-naked body glowed with a faint green light as his muscles shifted, absorbing the vast energy surging through him.

  Zamian watched the process without interfering, using the time to refine his ability to focus his empowered hearing and vision on different targets—both the broken entrance and Bohlo.

  A few moments later, he noticed Bohlo’s eyelids trembling.

  Zamian smiled as his friend’s eyes opened with a dazed look, his head turning from side to side as he lay on the grass.

  Bohlo sat up and scratched his short-haired head as his ears flapped. With a sleepy voice, he said, “Uh… Z, what happened to your hand?”

  Zamian glanced at the blood on his finger and chuckled. “I was picking leaves.” With glowing white eyes, he observed his friend and muttered, “How are you feeling?”

  Laughing, Bohlo stretched his muscular arms and yawned. “Sleepy, but not that bad. Uh… which tree hurt you?”

  “Forget about it.” Shaking his head, Zamian pointed at Bohlo. “But really, how are you feeling?”

  Seeing his friend stand up and put on his clothes, Zamian thought, ‘He seems a bit more lost than usual.’

  “Hey.” Zamian stood up and tapped his friend’s shoulder. “Answer me, B. Are you okay?”

  Bohlo was startled and turned to Zamian with wide eyes. “Ahh. Yes, yes, yes.” He nodded slowly. “My head is heavy, I guess. But I’m okay!”

  ‘When I became a Zealot, a similar blighted thing happened to me,’ Zamian thought, narrowing his eyes as he watched his friend walk through the garden. ‘However, something is wrong.’

  Looking at the green text above Bohlo’s head, Zamian read:

  [LEVEL 2 - MORTAL TIER - CREATION PATHWAY]

  Glancing at the corner of his vision, he willed the White Dot to show him a specific quest.

  Side Quest (!): Protect Bohlo until he completes his breakthrough

  Reward: 01 Book from White Tower's First Floor

  Status: Ongoing (12 hours left)

  (!) Failure to complete this quest will bring ?? penalties

  Staring at the text for a few seconds, Zamian dismissed it and frowned.

  ‘Why is he like this if he hasn’t become a Zealot yet?’

  Approaching his friend at a slow pace, he patted Bohlo’s shoulder, prompting the big-eared cultivator to turn around with dazed eyes and a big smile.

  “B, are you hungry?”

  “A little, yes, yes.”

  Guiding his friend to a bush by gently pushing his back, Zamian crouched, plucked some red berries, and placed them in his open hands, showing them to Bohlo. His friend smiled and picked a few, eating slowly.

  “Come on,” Zamian said as they finished the berries. “Show me your garden.”

  Bohlo nodded and walked alongside Zamian. Both remained quiet, letting the white light from above shine on their skin as they touched the fresh grass with their bare feet and occasionally brushed their hands against tree trunks.

  Zamian scanned the entire area with his Luminous Sense, never straying from Bohlo’s side, while part of his awareness remained fixed on the broken door.

  The green leaf clutched in Zamian’s fist had stopped trying to pierce him after a few minutes, its glow fading entirely. Yet, he did not open his hand, nor did he attempt to destroy it, merely stashing it on his inner shirt.

  The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  As time passed, they eventually stopped and sat near the spot where Bohlo usually cultivated. The muscular man sat cross-legged, his gaze fixed on the sprouts on the ground as he gently caressed them.

  Seconds turned into minutes. Zamian scowled but remained silent.

  When an hour had passed, his scowl deepened. ‘Why isn’t anyone coming here?’

  Strong steps echoed through the floors above, creating a steady flow of sound to his enhanced senses. However, from this distance, he could not pick up any voices or use the noise to determine where the people were or how many there were.

  He had tried.

  An hour was a long time, after all.

  ‘Why has no one come here after I broke that door? Even the loud noise of me running from my cultivation room to here should have been enough to attract someone,’ he thought with growing concern. ‘At the very least, Tulip, Uncle Soho, or that coward Kurt should have shown up if the patrolling cultivators were busy.’

  As Zamian focused on the distant noises, one of the sound spheres he had been tracking shifted in rhythm.

  A faint scattering sound, as if grass and soil were being parted.

  It was too soft to be perceptible from this distance.

  At least, for common cultivators.

  Zamian’s head snapped toward the sound, his eyes flashing with bright white light as he locked onto the broken door.

  Standing in front of it, now inside Bohlo’s garden, was a woman.

  She wore a flowing green dress adorned with floral patterns. Her wavy hair cascaded over her shoulders, framing her large, green eyes.

  Her bare feet moved delicately across the grass as she approached them.

  Zamian read the glowing green line above her head.

  [LEVEL 5 - IMMORTAL TIER - CREATION PATHWAY]

  He gulped.

  The woman, noticing his gaze, smiled, revealing her green teeth.

  “I’m Reina Verdant,” she whispered, her voice brushing against Zamian’s mental sound spheres and ears like a sweet breeze.

  The young cultivator hastily grabbed Bohlo’s head, pushing it against the grass as he threw himself to the ground.

  “This Zealot greets the soil stepped on by the Child of Verdant, wishing for the sacred light of Verdant to stay never-ending, ever strong, and be the only one in this Sanctuary,” Zamian shouted.

  “This Child hears the sound leaving your mouth. Rise to the light of Verdant,” Reina said, smiling. She paused before adding, “The Enlightened one won’t greet me, as my Father commanded?”

  ‘Oh, blighting vermin,’ Zamian cursed inwardly, moving his head slightly to glance at the woman. ‘Bohlo, don’t kill us both here, please.’

  Then he jerked his head, seeing as the Child of Verdant was sitting on a cushion woven from blades of grass, now only a few steps away from them.

  His eyes widened. ‘When did she move? How did I not notice?’

  Biting his inner lip, a disturbing thought passed through his mind.

  ‘My instincts… are silent! Is she controlling her intent like Marlos?’

  “You can rise, Zealot,” she said, her fingers idly tracing the cushion as it began to float closer to them. “The Enlightened, however, must greet me.”

  Standing up, Zamian pressed Bohlo’s head down with his right foot, keeping his own head bowed.

  “Child Reina, this Enlightened… had an issue while cultivating and isn’t thinking clearly,” he said carefully.

  Reina’s eyes glowed green as she ran her fingers through her hair.

  “His soul is a mess, but he seems to be a gifted cultivator. By tomorrow’s first meal, he should be fine once more.”

  Zamian openly sighed in relief.

  As her grass cushion floated above Zamian, she spoke in a bored tone. “Won’t you ask me why I’m here?”

  ‘I can’t leave and abandon Bohlo, and I won’t bet on a fight against her. She is stronger than a Chosen, after all.’ His mind raced. ‘Blighted woman, shouldn’t you be with your rotten father or fighting that traitorous Lord Chosen?’

  “This is a first,” she chuckled, hovering in front of Zamian, her face dangerously close to his. “People usually pay attention to me when I speak.”

  Zamian’s instincts screamed at him, and he locked eyes with the Child of Verdant, frozen in place.

  Her eyes glowed with green light.

  And then she frowned.

  “What is this in your soul? Why is it so hard to see?” she asked, her tone more irritated than curious.

  ‘I can’t lie to her, but I can’t tell her the truth either.’ He clenched his teeth. ‘And if I ignore her…’

  “My father said the same thing once when I was younger,” he answered, shaking his head. “But I can’t explain much more than that.”

  “You have been like this since birth?”

  “Honestly? It feels like it’s been with me since my last life.” He shrugged. “I like to think it’s a reward from a previous cycle.”

  She arched an eyebrow at him. “A reward? Do you mean as a Divine blessing?”

  “For me, this indeed came from a divine power, Child Reina.”

  Reina chuckled and backed away.

  “I wish that blind stargazing elder was awake. He would love to meet a devotee like you,” she said, absentmindedly twirling a lock of her hair between her fingers.

  ‘Yeah, I wish that blighted Stargazing Brother would wake up too. I’ve been checking almost every two days, and they keep saying the old creepy is still recovering.’

  Just as Zamian was about to continue speaking and ask what she wanted, Reina sighed.

  “You didn’t ask, but I came here to find Zamian Greenfield, the son of the previous Lord Chosen, Dante Greenfield.” Her green eyes bore into Zamian. “Do you know where he is?”

  “....Here. I am Zamian.”

  Silence stretched between them, while Bohlo appeared to be chewing the grass.

  “Aren’t you afraid? Nervous? Or at least uneasy?” Reina whispered, resting her index finger on her chin.

  “I expected someone to come,” Zamian said, choosing his words carefully. “But I am surprised it was you, Child Reina.”

  She smiled.

  “Fern said you were smart. Maybe you noticed no one was near the cultivation rooms, right? Most of them went up there to receive me and my brothers.” She watched Zamian with interest, her eyes flashing with a green hue.

  ‘Vermin, if you think you’ll get a reaction from me, you’re in for a big treefall.’

  Zamian controlled his facial muscles. His instincts whispered to him again, guiding his actions. His lips curled into a quiet, almost trembling smile. His breath quickened, his fingers twitched.

  Finally, his eyes widened slightly as he spoke. “Brothers? More Children are here? Did we win the war against the outsiders?”

  Reina studied him carefully but kept her calm expression, answering with a smile. “What war?”

  Zamian opened and closed his mouth, too stunned to respond.

  ‘Weren’t the Children of Verdant on Lord’s Tree? Wasn’t the giant root wall made by them? Who were the ones chasing me and Ruen to our battleground after my transformation and the destruction of the Erasmus Tree if not them?’

  With so many questions flooding his mind, Zamian made no effort to hide his exasperated and confused expression.

  “There is no war,” she said, her eyes gleaming. “It’s just us removing pests from our garden.”

  A bad feeling crept into Zamian at the way she phrased it.

  “Anyway, come with me.” She turned, floating away. The moment she left the grass field, the cushion beneath her dissolved into green essence.

  She didn’t ask. She didn’t wait. She simply walked.

  ‘Rotten child of a fake god,’ Zamian thought, lifting his foot from Bohlo’s head.

  Grabbing his friend’s arm, Zamian pulled him up, forcing the muscular man to walk with him.

  Bohlo’s face was covered in dirt, especially around his mouth, which was chewing on blades of grass.

  As Zamian followed Reina Verdant, he avoided using Light’s essence.

  ‘What is happening here?’ he thought. ‘Why is she looking for me? Does she know I’m the one who destroyed that sapling and the Erasmus Tree?’

  Glancing at the text above her head, a headache crept in.

  ‘And this blighted thing is even one level higher than a Chosen. Worst of all, Whit Dot put her on a higher tier, calling this rotten bark an Immortal.’ Amidst his thoughts, he frowned inwardly. ‘Wait… doesn’t this mean she could easily kill the Lord Chosen and the other traitors to quickly end this blighting invasion?’

  They passed through vine-covered doors. As they did, Zamian began to hear muffled voices, his mental sound spheres picking up fragmented sentences.

  “...powerful… fled… useless!” a raspy male voice said.

  “...unnecessary… planned… boy,” another male voice, one he almost recognized, responded.

  Then, as he stepped through the final vine-covered door, the voices went silent.

  At the same time, his instincts screamed—like someone was ripping all eight of his hearts out at once.

  Flinching, he took a second to adjust himself before facing the small crowd of twelve cultivators in front of him.

  His gaze immediately recognized three familiar faces—Yokki, Calla, and Fern—standing beside two unknown men with long green hair, eerily similar to Reina.

  Having good guesses, he glanced at the green lines above their heads.

  [LEVEL 5 - IMMORTAL TIER - CREATION PATHWAY]

  [LEVEL 5 - IMMORTAL TIER - CREATION PATHWAY]

  Behind them stood six more cultivators, all clad in wooden armor, their faces marked with scars. Four men, two women.

  They all had the same glowing green text above them.

  [LEVEL 4 - IMMORTAL TIER - CREATION PATHWAY]

  Then, Zamian’s gaze fell on the last man.

  He stood opposite Yokki, on the other side of the Children of Verdant. Long brown hair cascaded past his shoulders, and he wore a deep purple tunic. His small eyes and faint smile were fixed on Reina, Zamian, and Bohlo.

  Zamian froze.

  No amount of control could stop the surge of emotions crashing inside him.

  Incredulity, horror, and anger.

  Reina approached the group and wrapped an arm around one of her brothers, smiling as she spoke.

  “I brought him. He didn’t resist, but his soul is as strong as Yokki said, so I couldn’t control him. Sorry.”

  The man being hugged by Reina, who had short curly green hair, matching eyes, and wore a simple green shirt and pants, shrugged.

  “Doesn’t matter. We can use him as bait anyway.”

  Meanwhile, the other green-haired Child of Verdant, who looked younger but wore the same attire as his brother, clicked his tongue and turned toward the purple-robed man.

  “Elwood, you failed again.”

  “I’m sorry, Child Claus,” Elwood bowed slightly. “My understanding of that man was that he would stay close to his kid. I miscalculated, failing to account for his current state.” He glanced at Zamian. “For him to abandon his son here was beyond my plans.”

  ‘It can’t be.’ Zamian’s eyes shook as he watched these people speak so casually with one another.

  “Your plans, you say?” Claus laughed in disdain. “Horus and I spent days searching for that man after he destroyed the Erasmus Colossal Tree, following your so-called plan. And this is what? Your third failure? You can’t make plans, mortal.”

  ‘They should be attacking him.’ Zamian trembled, his thoughts clouded by a storm of emotions.

  “I’m sorry, Child Claus,” Elwood bowed again. “But this time, if we capture him and use him as bait in the desert, Dante—”

  “Don’t speak his name in front of me.” Horus, the curly-haired Child of Verdant, cut in, not even sparing Elwood a glance.

  Before the purple-robed man could continue, Claus waved his hand dismissively.

  “Just throw him and whoever is with him into the Deep Ground prison and wait for the madman to come to rescue them,” he smirked. “Or do you think my siblings and I will step outside?”

  “Child Claus, but—” Elwood started, only to be interrupted.

  “Why aren’t you killing him!? He is a blighting traitor!?” Zamian shouted, his voice trembling as he pointed at Elwood.

  Yokki shook her head. Calla and Fern exchanged glances.

  The other Chosen widened their eyes at Zamian. Until now, they had remained silent.

  Reina laughed sweetly. Horus ignored everything. Claus smirked, his gaze shifting to Elwood.

  The brown-haired cultivator turned to Zamian, smiling slightly. His posture shifted—straightening, becoming composed. He placed his hands behind his back.

  Staring at Zamian with his small, calculating eyes, he spoke in a low but commanding tone.

  “How dare you speak in front of your Lord Chosen and the Children of Verdant, Zealot?”