The land above brimmed with new life. In just a few hours of exploring, Yur encountered a host of demon species—most of them weak, but each strangely fascinating. Among them were the Retch, a type of floating egg demon birthed by the Retcher Mother. They stayed encased in shells, producing haunting howls and wielding tube-like appendages to drain victims of blood.
When Yur tasted one, he found it unexpectedly crunchy on the outside and almost soupy within—a mixture of sweet, sloshing blood that he couldn't help but liken to broth.
"Zul," he said, between bites of a Retcher's gelatinous interior, "one of my quests is to find a Mother Tree Sapling. How do I even do that? Where do I look?"
[Mother Tree Saplings can be acquired by burning a Mother Tree!]
"By burning it, I'll get a sapling?" he repeated, startled.
[Correct!]
"Why didn't you say so before? I passed by so many Imp Mothers on my way here! That could've saved me a fortune in points!" He frowned at the thought of all those precious Demon Points he'd spent purchasing the Erept Mother sapling.
[Host never asked!]
"That's… messed up," he muttered under his breath, though he didn't dwell on it too long. "So I guess I can gather a bunch of Mother Tree Saplings now instead of buying them. Perfect."
Scanning his surroundings, he located a Retch Mother—a smaller tree compared to the Imp Mother but valuable in its own right. Retch Mothers apparently helped recycle and bolster Bahirath pools, making them a prime find for him.
"All right, guess I'll have to use Incineration if I want to burn it. But how, exactly?" He rubbed his chin, eyeing the unassuming little tree.
[Host must communicate with the Cinerath; Wrathful Ashe!]
"And how do I do that?" he asked, puzzled.
[Loading instructions…]
[Complete!]
Rather than performing the technique for him, the system displayed a guide detailing the steps. On the surface, it seemed straightforward, but Yur quickly realized there was more complexity beneath. Because he'd gained much of his power from sacrifice, he'd skipped fundamental cultivation processes. Now he had to learn them the long way around.
"So, I have to connect with my Cyralim? What's that?" he asked, reading further:
|——————————————————————|
Cyralim
The inner world of any cultivator from Afloria.
A vast, enigmatic domain that reflects one's power,
essence, and soul.
The Seed of the Orb also resides within the Cyralim.
|——————————————————————|
"Makes sense," Yur mused. He settled himself on the ground to follow the guide's first steps. Several nearby Retch's jabbed their fleshy tubes at his skin, but they couldn't penetrate. Erepts and Imps also gnawed at his arms and legs to no avail. Irritated by their persistent nibbling, he brushed them aside.
"Enough!" He flared his wings with a forceful snap, sending the pests tumbling back. With another thought, his wings expanded to their full two-meter span, forming a protective barrier around him. That done, he resumed his focus, closing his eyes and imagining himself diving inward toward his Orb.
[Host has succeeded!]
[Reward: 50 Human Points!]
A system message flitted across his mind, but he paid it little attention. Instead, he marveled at the realm now materializing around him. Towering pillars of vibrant red flame arched across the sky in elaborate patterns.
Creatures—some shaped like animals, others like hulking silhouettes—formed from either ash or swirling red-and-black fire. Everything felt simultaneously alien and welcoming.
"So this is my Cyralim?" Yur murmured, taking a few exploratory steps. The vastness and mystery dwarfed even Zulmasharr's strangeness. "I like it. It's way cooler here than out there."
[A Cyralim reflects the nature and desires of its cultivator. It is the most comfortable place you can be!]
"Figures," he chuckled. His gaze caught on an object floating in mid-air, its surface surrounded by bright red flames and orbiting chunks of ash. He couldn't glimpse its core, only the swirling, protective aura around it. "What's this thing?"
[Seed of the Orb!]
"Oh." He nodded. That explained the intense energy radiating from it. "Now, I'm supposed to figure out how Incineration works." He surveyed the flaming beasts and abstract constructs scattered throughout his Cyralim. "Maybe these shapes are all different aspects of the technique?"
Zul remained silent, leaving him to discover answers for himself. Following the system's instructions, Yur approached a large bird-shaped mass of fire, brushing its head experimentally. The flames felt oddly comforting—warm but not painful. Grinning, he roamed further, touching various creatures and structures he stumbled upon, each one a clue or a puzzle piece to unlocking the full might of Incineration.
————————————————————————
"Sect Leader Olmi, we have to protect the mortal kingdoms!" An older cultivator stood beside Olmi, his voice shaking with urgency.
"Do you think I don't know that?" Olmi snapped, casting a steely gaze over the demon army stretched out before them. Its collective aura radiated pure malevolence. At the head of the horde stood a tall, slender man with a refined face—Demon King Yukinly. His presence alone felt like a weight pressing against the air.
"So good to see you again, my friend," Yukinly said brightly, almost mocking in his casual tone. "How have you been?"
Olmi's eyes flicked to the numerous wooden stakes carried by the demon troops, each topped with a human head. There had to be hundreds of thousands of them, forming a macabre forest of death. His chest tightened in fury.
"Demon King," Olmi began coolly, "the treaty was broken by a single rogue cultivator. There was no need for you to launch a full invasion."
"Oh?" Yukinly raised his brows, feigning ignorance. "It was you humans who first chose to violate the pact. I'm just returning the favor."
"Damon isn't even aligned with—"
"Tsk, tsk," Yukinly chided, smirking. "A human of Rank Six or above acted against us. That alone warrants a response, yes? The rule was quite clear: none of your higher-level cultivators were to interfere."
Olmi's jaw clenched. He could feel the mounting tension in the surrounding cultivators, each sensing the malice emanating from the demon ranks.
"I've refrained from killing any of you cultivators—so far," Yukinly continued. He reached for a severed human head, biting into it with a casual indifference that made Olmi's blood boil. "Just cleaning up the mortals in your territory. But I'll come for your precious sect soon enough."
"That's enough!" Olmi roared, eyes ablaze. His aura flared out, cracking the ground beneath him. "If you want to fight, fight me now, demon!"
Yukinly's lips curled. Slowly, he ascended into the sky, his body rippling as it shifted to its more monstrous shape—obscenely large, grotesque, and reeking of blood.
"Finally," he rumbled, voice echoing across the battlefield, "let's see if your anger can match my appetite."
————————————————————————
Within the boundless depths of his Cyralim, Yur slowly lifted his hand. In response, red-and-black flames spun together not as a simple blaze, but as an intricate ritual circle crackling with power.
"So, this is Incineration," he mused, marveling at how the energy coiled around his palm. He'd expected ordinary fire, yet here it was—another ritual circle, seamlessly tied to his broader abilities. Though he'd grown used to rituals, he was still surprised to see the power manifest in this refined form.
Experimenting, he altered the circle's size and intensity, fighting to maintain stability. The flames hissed and snapped in resistance, challenging him to gain mastery. After several attempts, he decided he'd learned enough to put it to practical use.
With a simple thought, he withdrew from the Cyralim and snapped back to Zulmasharr. The wide stretch of his wings still cocooned him, and he gently folded them away until they shrank to a more manageable size. His gaze drifted to the small Retch Mother swaying nearby.
"All right, let's give this a try," he muttered. Taking a deep breath, he laid his hands on the trunk-like surface of the Retch Mother. A web of scorching lines began branching outward across the bark, forming a lattice of smoldering strands. The crimson glow traced every inch of the tree, sizzling as it spread.
"Beautiful…" he whispered, transfixed. Thread-thin bubbles of red fluid oozed out—likely the Retch Mother's defenses—only to burst and ignite in the consuming blaze.
In mere seconds, the entire tree was engulfed, and the flames devoured it from roots to crown with startling efficiency.
Rather than simply disappearing, the fire that had wrapped the tree rushed back toward Yur, funneling into his Cinerath orb. Where the Retch Mother once stood, only a swirling puddle of bubbling blood remained, accompanied by a single, diminutive sapling. Not a trace of ash lingered—a testament to the strange nature of his Incineration.
"So this must be the sapling." He stooped down, picking up the tiny seedling that resembled a miniature tree. After examining it for a moment, he tucked it safely into his pouch.
[Quest Complete!]
[Find a Mother Tree Sapling!]
[Reward: 30 Demon Points!]
A triumphant grin crossed his face at the notification. Thirty points, just like that.
"Time to collect as many as I can!" he declared, eyes gleaming with delight. Flames still danced around his hands in faint echoes of ritual circles. Grinning like a man possessed, he pivoted toward the next cluster of trees, eager to stoke the fires of Incineration and further expand his growing collection of mother tree saplings.