The stillness of the room was comforting, broken only by the faint hum of the city beyond Liang Chen's window. Yue Ling lay curled on the couch, her soft white fur catching the pale light from the lamp. Liang Chen sat cross-legged on the floor, his breathing steady as he fell into meditation.
The chaos of the world faded from his mind, replaced by the disciplined focus he had cultivated during the dream. Though Earth lacked spiritual Qi, his body still remembered the flow of energy and the rhythm of cultivation. It was a hollow imitation, but it grounded him nonetheless.
As he sank deeper into his thoughts, a strange sensation brushed against the edge of his awareness. It wasn't Qi—it wasn't energy at all. It was faint, ephemeral, like the whisper of wind over a vast expanse. Yet it carried a weight, a presence, that made Liang Chen's breath hitch.
His eyes snapped open. For a moment, the sensation disappeared, as if it had never been. Liang Chen's brow furrowed, and he closed his eyes again, forcing himself back into a meditative state.
There it was again. Faint, so faint he doubted anyone else could perceive it. But it was there.
Memories surfaced, unbidden and sharp. As an Immortal Emperor, he had stood at the precipice of realms, harmonizing with the wills of entire planes. The will of a plane was its essence, a reflection of its potential and destiny. He had felt it before—vast and powerful forces tied to worlds teeming with spiritual energy.
This presence, however, was weak. Fragile. It was as though Earth itself were trying to awaken, struggling to find a voice in a barren void.
"The will of the plane…" Liang Chen murmured, his voice barely audible.
His mind raced through fragments of knowledge, remnants of his past life. A plane's will was both a guardian and a guide, shaping the flow of spiritual energy and balancing the forces within its domain. Without spiritual Qi, Earth's will was little more than a shadow. But its existence, however faint, was significant.
Could it be that Earth, in its barren state, was trying to evolve? If so, nurturing its will could be the key to transforming the world into a cultivation plane. But how? Without spiritual Qi, the process was like trying to spark a fire with wet tinder.
Liang Chen opened his eyes, his gaze distant. He didn't have answers yet, but the presence he felt was a spark of hope. Perhaps the Dream Reincarnation System's return would provide more clarity.
Beyond the walls of his quiet home, the world was anything but calm. The alliances had solidified their power, each carving out its territory and philosophy.
The Dragon Alliance had emerged as a dominant force, their rhetoric focusing on strength and discipline. Their leaders spoke of a future where spiritual energy would return, promising that only the worthy would rise to power. They poured resources into research, blending ancient techniques from the dream world with Earth's technology. While many of their experiments failed, rumors spread of minor successes—an artifact that briefly emitted light, a formation that created a flicker of warmth.
In contrast, the Neutral Alliance continued to build quietly. Their focus on auxiliary professions had made them indispensable. Alchemists shared basic knowledge of pill-making, artisans began crafting rudimentary tools, and their Immortal Realm cultivator guided them with a steady hand. Though they avoided direct conflict, their influence was undeniable.
The other alliances watched the Neutral Alliance with a mixture of respect and caution. Even the Dragon Alliance, with its ambition and strength, refrained from openly challenging them. The Immortal Realm cultivator's presence was a deterrent, but it was their mastery of auxiliary skills that made them untouchable. If spiritual Qi returned, the Neutral Alliance would control the resources everyone needed to rise.
Rumors swirled about the Immortal Realm cultivators. The Dragon Alliance's two Immortals had been experimenting with ancient arts, trying to adapt their cultivation techniques to Earth's barren state. Though their efforts were shrouded in secrecy, whispers suggested they had begun exploring alternative energy sources, hoping to replace Qi with something Earth could provide.
The Neutral Alliance's Immortal cultivator, on the other hand, had taken a different approach. They focused on theory, teaching their members the principles of cultivation and encouraging them to prepare for the future. It was a pragmatic strategy, one that relied on patience rather than ambition.
Liang Chen listened to these rumors with measured interest. The alliances were chasing shadows, each hoping to gain an edge in a world without Qi. Their efforts were admirable, but Liang Chen doubted they would succeed. Without understanding the deeper forces at play, their experiments would be little more than grasping at straws.
Yue Ling stirred, her golden eyes flicking open. She stretched lazily, but her gaze lingered on Liang Chen, sharp and calculating. For a moment, he felt as though she were studying him, her expression almost too human.
"Do you sense it too?" Liang Chen asked softly, his eyes meeting hers.
Yue Ling tilted her head but didn't respond. She padded over to him, curling up at his feet. Liang Chen reached down to scratch behind her ears, his thoughts turning inward once more.
The faint presence of the plane's will lingered in his mind. It was weak, almost nonexistent, but it was there. Liang Chen's past life memories told him that such a force could grow stronger, given the right conditions.
"If Earth truly has a will," he murmured, "then it might not be as barren as it seems."
His gaze hardened. He didn't have the means to nurture it yet, but he would prepare. The Dream Reincarnation System had promised him the knowledge to create spiritual veins, and when it returned, he would be ready.
For now, he would wait. The alliances could chase their ambitions, and the world could spiral into chaos. Liang Chen's focus remained on the faint spark of hope he had felt—a spark that could one day reignite the path of cultivation.