Chapter 38: The Garden
Philip slid through the folds of space, stepping from the fractured altar into a world unlike any other. A garden, vast and veiled, greeted him with fragrant silence. It stretched endlessly, alive with abundance—trees that shimmered, flowers that sang, and fruits glowing with condensed life.
But what caught his eye first were the vines.
They slithered quietly across the soil, choked between the roots of herbs and fruits that his body yearned for. He reached toward a glistening blossom, but an unseen restriction flared, repelling him with a pulse of mana that numbed his fingers. He also sensed rank 3 beast littered every and they where the lowest of the food chain.
But the vines—hungry, wild, unchecked—welcomed his touch. They tore easily, some even eager to be picked. Yet each one radiated more mana than any plant he had ever encountered. He didn't question it. He began gathering them, stuffing them into the small pouch at his side, only to realize they overflowed with such energy, even storing them was a burden.so he ate then as he walked around.
Then he found the corpse.
Half-submerged beneath creeping vines, its flesh had long since dried. Only tattered robes and puncture wounds remained—no sign of rot, just the stillness of someone killed cleanly. The man's fingers were curled around a ring, dark silver, dull but intact.
Philip hesitated, then took it.
The moment he sent mana through it, space rippled. A spatial pocket opened in the air before him—clean, organized, personal. Inside were mana crystals, strange dried herbs, a simple robe, a sword with a quiet hum of power, and a manual.
The sword was lighter and sharper than his own, made of a black alloy veined with silver, and bound with inscriptions he couldn't read but instinctively respected. The robe fit like it had waited for him.
The manual, titled "Core Binding and Elemental Flow," offered insights far beyond what he had learned. It seemed the previous owner had come here, like him, and gathered what they could—but died trying to go further.
Philip understood the message.
He fitted the ring onto his wrist. The storage space folded neatly, responding to his intent.
He stood for a long time at the edge of the deeper grove.
Something lay beyond—older, stronger, and aware. It wasn't ready to strike, but it wasn't friendly either. Every instinct screamed that he wasn't prepared.
So he turned away.
For now.
But before leaving, he moved carefully through the garden, collecting as many weeds as he could, slicing them quickly and packing them into the storage. Each throbbed with vitality—raw, primal. They would serve him well later. As he cut down the roots he chewed on some of them while he kept the rest. It didn't take long before the excess man pushed him over the edge and he could feel his mana liquefying and his senses expanding.
With his newly stabilized mana core now fully liquid, Philip felt his body thrum with balance. The Master Realm welcomed him—and he stood firmly within it.
He walked through the folds of space, the garden slipping behind him, sealed away for another time.
But he was not unnoticed.
Beneath a trembling leaf, nestled among the roots of an ancient tree, a humanoid faced stirred. Its eyes gleamed like obsidian, and its eyes followed the human who had cut down hundreds of encroaching weeds that had plagued its quiet realm.
The eyes blinked.
It simply watched.
And for the first time in many years, the garden breathed easier.