With everyone gathered, they soon left the lodge.
But contrary to what Riven expected, they didn't descend the tree.
They went up.
At first, he didn't think much of it. Verdance's walkways spiraled endlessly around the trunks, rising and falling in gentle curves. It was easy to assume there was more above.
Still…
As they climbed higher, the stalls thinned. The lanterns grew fewer. The voices faded.
Riven frowned.
This can't be the right way.
He'd noticed it before — the shopping trees, the living streets of the city, all seemed to taper off a little past the halfway mark. Above that, there was nothing. No shops. No residences. No signs of a gathering hall.
Just bark. Branch. Shadow.
But he kept the thought to himself.
Soon, they reached the end.
The spiraling wooden path stopped abruptly, pressed flush against the trunk. No bridge. No stairs. Nowhere left to go.
See.
Riven opened his mouth.
Before he could say anything, Elder Syen spoke.
"Gather close to me."
His voice was calm. Certain.
Once everyone grouped around him, he stepped forward, one hand pressed against the ground.
Qi flowed from him — smooth, deliberate — spreading beneath their feet in a widening circle. Lines etched themselves into the wood as if drawn by an invisible blade.
A formation.
At its center, a spider took shape.
Definitely not crude.
If anything, it looked… refined. Elegant. The legs were long and precise, the body composed of interlocking sigils rather than flesh. It almost looked like art.
The air shifted.
And then the qi circle beneath them solidified.
Riven's breath hitched.
The platform lifted.
Not abruptly — not violently — but with steady, undeniable force. The ground pulled away beneath their feet as the formation rose straight upward, carrying them along the trunk of the tree like a silent elevator.
For half a heartbeat, Riven's instincts screamed. His muscles tensed.
Wind brushed past them. The bark of the tree slid downward in his vision, massive ridges flowing past like the walls of a canyon. Lanterns vanished below. The muted noise of the city thinned until it was nothing but a distant hum.
Riven swallowed, his muscles relaxing slightly.
They were fine.
It was just Elder Syen making them fly up for some reason.
But more than that he was glad about something else right now.
That he hadn't said anything.
He looked at the others.
Ziren, Talia and Lara looked just as shocked as him.
But Mei on the other hand...
She looked like she was just out on a stroll.
Either way they continued to rise. Higher and higher.
Then—
The world changed.
The canopy parted.
Light flooded in from above, brighter and purer than anything below. Massive branches spread outward like continents, thick enough to hold entire plazas. Leaves the size of sails filtered sunlight into shifting emerald patterns. The air here was different — cleaner, denser, saturated with qi to the point his skin prickled faintly just standing there.
Riven's eyes widened.
This wasn't just another level of the city.
This was a different world.
Platforms floated between branches, not grown but forged — stone, jade, and crystal reinforced with formations far beyond anything he'd seen below. Towers rose from living wood and carved mineral alike, their surfaces etched with sigils that pulsed faintly in rhythm with the tree itself.
Cultivators moved through the space casually.
Not many — but every single one of them carried presence.
Real presence.
Riven's breath slowed as understanding settled in.
So this is why Verdance is the largest city in the region.
He hadn't seen it before because he hadn't been meant to.
He wasn't strong enough to know about it yet.
And he wouldn't be for a long time to come.
The qi circle eased its ascent and drifted toward a wide platform grown directly from the crown of the tree. As it touched down, the spider formation dissolved silently back into nothing, lines fading as if they'd never existed.
They stepped off.
Ahead, the space opened into a broad, elevated clearing — lanterns suspended on strands of pure qi, tables arranged beneath flowering branches, music drifting softly through the air. The atmosphere was festive, but restrained. Controlled.
A banquet.
And they weren't alone.
Riven's gaze shifted.
Three other groups were already present.
Each one mirrored their own composition — an older figure standing at the center, clearly an elder, with several younger cultivators nearby. Disciples. Talents. Escorts.
No banners.
No obvious sect colors.
Their attire was varied — elegant here, utilitarian there — but all of it carefully neutral. Deliberately anonymous.
Just like them.
Demonic sects, Riven guessed. Or at least sects that preferred not to be named openly.
As they approached, the attention was immediate.
But Riven could feel it — eyes flicking over them, brushing lightly against the group like fingertips testing the edge of a blade.
Assessment.
Judgment.
One of the elders let out a low chuckle. He was tall and thin, his robe a muted bronze threaded with faint black lines. His gaze lingered on Elder Syen as he spoke.
"Fashionably late, as always," the man said mildly. "I was beginning to wonder if the Green Lotus had decided to skip this one."
He put particular emphasis on the words "Green Lotus".
Elder Syen didn't even slow. "We arrived precisely when it mattered."
The chuckle faded.
No one pressed further.
Elder Syen led them onward, guiding the group toward one of the prepared tables set along the edge of the platform. The layout was simple — low tables grown from the wood itself, cushions arranged with careful spacing. Enough distance between each group to speak freely. Close enough to watch one another.
Calculated.
Mei took her place behind Syen, closely followed by Ziren.
Riven sat down next to him, followed by Lara and Talia.
His posture was relaxed on the surface, but alert beneath it.
As Elder Syen had said, this didn't seem like a jolly banquet.
No one really greeted them nicely.
A cultivator banquet hmm...
His thoughts drifted before getting pulled out of it quickly.
One of the elders had stepped forward.
"Since we are all present," he said smoothly, his voice carrying without effort across the platform, "let us begin."
Riven blinked once.
That's all?
Four small groups?
You call this a banquet?
He looked toward Elder Syen for an answer, but he didn't seem to realize. Or move.
And if he wasn't saying anything of his own accord.
Then everything seemed to be going its correct path.
What the hell?