The giant stared longingly at the horizon, where the enormous mushroom cloud from the fallen limb was slowly dissipating. He deeply wished he could see the site where the colossal remnant had landed. If its descent had caused such dramatic changes to the surrounding sky and land, what transformative scene awaited where it struck?
Unfortunately, the region he inhabited—the Eternal Sacred Tree's sanctuary at the heart of a barren world—was now completely cut off from the outside.
His disappointment didn't last long. Nudged by his son, whose excitement was barely contained, the giant followed the dragonkin's pointing finger to the sky.
What he saw made his jaw drop.
Hundreds of massive limbs, each as colossal as mountains, descended from the heavens. The sheer scale of the sight instilled a profound sense of insignificance in all who beheld it.
Regardless of what thoughts these remains inspired in the creatures who saw them, the limbs fell under the will of some great entity. Enshrouded in the glowing threads of world law, they carved brilliant streaks across the sky as they plunged toward the ground.
Though intended to breathe new life into the world, their initial impact brought only destruction.
A series of mushroom clouds erupted across the barren land, each accompanied by violent tremors. This cascade of disasters would have annihilated any surface civilization, but this world had none to destroy—just desolation upon desolation.
The giant sat, stunned, on the ground. A series of earthquakes shook the earth beneath him, a relentless rhythm punctuated by the rising and falling of mushroom clouds on the horizon.
As the limbs fell, the skies, briefly cleared by their passage, became choked with dust once more. The world seemed more ruined than ever.
However, the sanctuary, protected by the Eternal Sacred Tree, remained untouched. The life-giving aura of the tree shone brighter than ever, its emerald light radiating across the verdant expanse.
"Is this the protection of the Sacred Tree or the Sovereign?" the giant wondered aloud, though he soon chuckled at his own question. "There's no difference. The tree is the Sovereign's creation, after all."
The tremors grew so intense that a massive fissure formed at the edge of the sanctuary. This deep, ring-shaped abyss separated the protected zone from the desolate land beyond.
As the earthquakes subsided after three days and nights, the dust began to settle. The giant gazed out at the clearing skies, his hope rekindled when he spotted a small miracle—a lone blade of grass sprouting defiantly from the barren earth.
He stumbled forward, overwhelmed by disbelief and excitement. Though the abyss yawned before him, he was determined to see the miracle up close.
Aided by the glow of his giant bloodline, he traversed the chasm effortlessly, as if walking on solid ground. Reaching the small patch of green, he knelt, gazing at the blade of grass as though it were a priceless treasure.
Others soon followed his lead. Giants and dragons alike crossed the abyss, their curiosity piqued by the changes wrought by the falling remains. Their heightened senses told them the world was transforming in ways they couldn't yet comprehend.
The giant, realizing the others were heading farther out, quickly joined them. They were drawn to the source of the rebirth—the site of one of the fallen limbs.
When he reached the location, he stood at the edge of a cliff, looking down into a vast basin formed by the impact. The ground had been compressed into a flat plain, ringed by steep cliffs.
The scale of the destruction was awe-inspiring, but what truly took his breath away was the lush forest growing within the basin.
This forest, sprouting from the barren earth, was expanding outward at an astonishing rate. Saplings emerged from the ground, maturing into towering trees and dense underbrush within moments.
Witnessing this miracle, the giant's legs gave out, and he fell to his knees. Tears streamed down his face as he bowed deeply. His prayers had finally been answered.
This scene wasn't unique to the basin he observed. Across the barren world, wherever the Evil God's remains had landed, life was springing forth, transforming desolation into vibrant greenery.
…
Meanwhile, far away in the void, Muria observed these changes within his own fractured world. The monotonous expanse of the void offered little distraction, so he focused much of his attention on the rebirth of his domain.
Only the central region of his world, a remnant of his original demi-plane, was teeming with life. The rest, tainted by the Evil God's corruption, was barren and lifeless.
But as the Evil God's remains were digested by the world's laws, their essence was converted into nourishment. The once-dead land began to thrive again.
It was a bitter irony. A being synonymous with death and destruction, cursed by countless worlds, had become the catalyst for life in the very world it once sought to corrupt.
"Such waste," Muria muttered, his voice tinged with regret.
In theory, the Evil God's remains could have yielded over three standard units of source power. Yet all Muria had extracted so far was less than a tenth of a unit.
The reason was simple: his world desperately needed the nourishment to heal. While he could have converted all the remains into source power, doing so would have been shortsighted.
Muria had no urgent need for source power. Restoring his world's vitality was far more important. A fully revitalized world would grant him access to world power, enabling him to face epic-tier opponents with confidence and authority.
Should he encounter hostile beings of his level in the void, he could stand his ground—or retreat with dignity. As for encountering creators, well... it was best to avoid them altogether. In the void, one should never expect kindness from a stronger, unfamiliar entity.
Initially, Muria had found solace in observing his world's recovery. But after years of monotony, even this had lost its appeal.
He was preparing to use the oppressive void around him to temper his mind when something unexpected happened.
A faint, dreamlike whisper reached his ears—a plea carried on the currents of the void.
Startled and intrigued, Muria, bored out of his mind, eagerly turned his attention to this newfound curiosity.
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