Chapter 432: Where to Accumulate Divine Power?

In the depths of the desert, a stone tomb chamber, Albert clutched the water he had saved from yesterday and walked carefully toward the distance.

Ang had given him a fist-sized Unfading Spring Stone, which each night condensed a fair amount of water; besides drinking his share, Albert saved the rest to water the tree.

Arriving at the spot where Ang had originally placed the planting sphere, after removing it, a large depression had sunk into the ground, and beside it stood a crooked, stunted, withered tree.

If Ang returned here, he probably wouldn't recognize this withered tree as the World Tree.

When first planted, the World Tree had grown for a time, drawing vitality from the vegetables inside the planting sphere; after Ang moved the sphere away, where would the desert find life? So it withered rapidly.

Albert felt deeply sorry—seeing even a speck of green in the desert was rare, let alone a tree—but he had long prepared himself for this outcome, and simply made a habit of walking here daily, as if it were post-meal exercise.

Unexpectedly, a week ago, a bud had sprouted on the already withered trunk, a tender, vibrant green, incredibly cute.

"Is this withered tree going to revive?" Albert was so excited he felt like he himself was regaining his vigor.

Since then, he saved a little water each day, coming at dusk to water the withered tree, because after sunset, water evaporation slowed, allowing crops to absorb more—this was what Ang had taught him.

The bud grew day by day; Albert believed his watering was working, and his heart swelled with joy—nothing could move him more than witnessing new life sprouting in the desert.

Today, as usual, he carried water toward the withered tree, when suddenly he saw dust rising ahead—a "tree" was wildly twisting its waist as it sprinted past him.

As it brushed past, it glanced at Albert and tossed out: "No water…" before vanishing in a cloud of dust.

When the dust cleared, a leaf of impossible emerald green drifted down at Albert's feet; he picked it up, and the moment he touched it, he sensed its extraordinary nature—a cool, invigorating aura.

"Was that tree that just ran past the one that sprouted from the bud?" Albert suddenly had a premonition, especially recalling its words: "No water…"

He walked to the spot where the withered tree stood—indeed, the emerald bud was gone, and even the trunk had split open, as if it had exhausted its final vitality.

Albert stood stunned, recalling the entire sequence, murmuring: "I watered you for so many days—you refused water, yet still thanked me by leaving me a leaf? Is that what it means?"

He held the leaf before his eyes, sniffed it—a strange sensation surged into his nostrils, making his whole body shiver, then triggered an overwhelming urge, and without thinking, he licked the leaf.

It melted instantly, dissolving in Albert's mouth; in an instant, he felt his entire body brimming with strength, his vigor restored—he could kill several dragons barehanded.

…

That running tree twisted its waist so fiercely it left afterimages, kicking up dust as it sprinted southeastward.

The desert remained barren until it passed a dam, where irrigation channels were planted with tender green vegetables; the running tree rejoiced and charged toward the greenery.

All the crops sprouted fresh greenery, accelerated their growth, welcoming the "tree."

The tree itself grew—its roots lengthened and thickened, twisting into longer legs, taking bigger strides, moving faster through the irrigation channels, passing through two transparent hemispheres, following the river to the mountains.

Crossing the valley, scaling the mountains, it reached a desolate black soil; its newly grown long legs were worn away, yet it didn't slow, twisting and writhing into Iron Sand City, flinging aside every skeleton and zombie that rushed toward it, arriving before Ang.

"Life's Hymn! What's going on? How did it activate Life's Hymn?" the tree-man asked, excited and thrilled.

"How did you get here? Where did you come from?" Nagelis didn't answer, instead asking the first question.

Kuba Da, this was another world—where had the God of Life appeared from?

Ang also tilted his head in confusion.

"There's a World Tree here, so I came. Hurry, tell me—how did it activate Life's Hymn?" The God of Life asked anxiously; his usual languid nature made this urgency unimaginable.

"World Tree?" At this mention, Ang and Nagelis immediately recalled the World Tree they had planted upon arrival—everyone had forgotten it, wasn't it already dead?

Ang had moved the planting sphere; without vitality to nourish it, the World Tree would only keep withering.

But it didn't matter—Ang had many World Trees; the old tree only required them to plant World Trees everywhere, not necessarily to keep them alive.

Even if they did survive, Nagelis had cut down hundreds, if not thousands, of World Trees; no place could sustain too many—they'd all be cut eventually.

Ang pulled out several Life Gems: "It, eat this."

"Such strong vitality." The old tree took them; the greenness within the Life Gems immediately flowed into its body through its hands.

The roots nearly worn away on the old tree instantly sprouted new buds, re-twisting into long legs, and greenery sprouted on its head.

"No, vitality alone cannot trigger Life's Hymn—there must be another reason," the old tree said.

"First, tell us what Life's Hymn is? Is that why you came through from another world?" Nagelis asked.

The old tree nodded, then shook its head: "I can't explain exactly what it is, but it's unquestionably the supreme praise of life. Right now, find a place to plant it."

Ang quickly asked: "Does it need fertile soil?"

"No, no—anywhere is the same to it," the old tree said.

Since it had no soil requirements, plant it here—little tree had been calling out "ya" at him for a long time.

The moment the seed touched the ground, a tender sprout burst forth, roots plunged into the earth—and then…

Watching only a single sprout emerge, with no further change, Ang tilted his head, looked at the little tree, then at the old tree.

The matter wasn't urgent; the old tree returned to its usual slow pace, speaking calmly: "Root."

Ang swept with his mind—indeed, though the surface sprout hadn't grown, the roots beneath the ground kept extending deeper, growing stronger.

Ang pulled out water: "Water?"

The old tree shook its head.

Ang pulled out insect ash liquid: "Fertilizer?"

The old tree shook its head.

Ang pulled out a complex fertilizer made of farm manure, wood ash, and bird droppings: "Fertilize?"

The old tree replied impatiently: "No. Life's Hymn is born in the harshest environments."

So… no care needed? Ang hesitated, looking at the little tree; the little tree looked back at him, equally confused.

Nagelis finally asked: "If you don't need to care for it, then tell me first—how did you get here?"

The old tree pointed to the direction it came from: "There—World Tree—my seed."

"Can your consciousness transfer be this far? Can you transfer other things too? Can you help us move all our belongings over?" Nagelis asked.

The old tree ignored it, turning to twist away.

Nagelis lunged and hugged it, then spat a dragon breath to the side, growling: "You came all this way—you've got to leave something behind, otherwise when Life's Hymn completes and we don't call you—oh, you still haven't explained what Life's Hymn is."

The old tree plucked two seeds from its head and dropped them on the ground: "I don't know. I've never achieved Life's Hymn myself—but I know that when it's completed, the little tree's life will reach a height never before seen, higher than mine."

"Sss—" Even Du Luo, the undead who didn't need to breathe, involuntarily drew a sharp breath.

Who was this old tree? A super-being of a hundred thousand years. No one knew its power because it lived so carefree—but Du Luo knew even His Majesty avoided provoking such a super-being.

Life's Hymn could make the little sapling reach a height even the old tree couldn't achieve? What level of giant tree would that be?

The little sapling waved its true leaves at the two seeds the old tree dropped, sending out enthusiastic thoughts: "Grow hard—grow hard—"

The two seeds rapidly rooted, sprouted, and grew vigorously; though lacking the Death-Spore Aura, their growth rate far surpassed even that with the aura—instantly becoming one-meter-tall Treekeepers.

Could this little tree, which only made things "grow," reach a height even the old God of Life couldn't? Nagelis found it hard to believe; when he turned again, the old tree had already twisted away into the distance.

"Always appearing and disappearing, just leaving two Treekeepers? Stingy bastard." Nagelis sneered.

In the following days, Ang was utterly obsessed—he stopped farming entirely, spending every moment crouched before the Life's Hymn sapling, observing its growth.

The sapling's roots had already plunged twenty meters deep and kept extending further downward, yet its branches and leaves refused to grow, remaining forever as a tender sprout.

"No wonder it sprouted from the little tree—so lazy, won't even grow taller," Nagelis complained.

While they idly guarded the sprout, Du Luo and Silver Coin were swamped with work—occupying a city required too many complex tasks, and they had no manpower, forced to reuse the old staff; ensuring they wouldn't pretend obedience while secretly resisting was a major challenge.

But Silver Coin had no trouble—money's power could turn even the most reluctant into enthusiastic, loyal subjects.

Moreover, Iron Sand City was a resource city, its main industry iron mining; its population consisted only of miners and merchants—simple composition. Within days, order in the city was restored.

Then, Silver Coin obtained key data: population, food, treasury, etc.

"My lord, Iron Sand City doesn't produce grain—it can't be self-sufficient. We must accelerate grain purchases or open new farmland to solve the food problem; we may need your initial support of some Spirit Beans," Silver Coin said.

Ang nodded, opened his divine realm, and took out ten bags of Spirit Beans—he had nothing else in abundance, only Spirit Beans; thanks to the energy of the Faith Storm, he had grown a forest's worth, enough to feed everyone in the main plane for a year.

This world's total population might be less than the main plane's—even if everyone ate his food, he could afford it; the main limitation was transfer speed.

He could now transfer one bag every twenty minutes—thirty thousand beans, enough for ten thousand people to eat for one day.

But Silver Coin wouldn't let everyone eat full portions—he ground the Spirit Beans into powder, mixed them with flour and vegetables to make cabbage cakes; first, to conceal the Spirit Beans' existence, second, to save beans—one bag could feed ten thousand people for two days.

City residents lined up to receive the cabbage cakes, ate them with deep gratitude; the strong sense of fullness brought satisfaction and thankfulness, and Ang gained another wave of soul flames.

The God of Cultivation's power was this unreasonable—anyone who ate Ang's food, even if not his believer, had to offer him power.

As these soul flames were absorbed, the sprout on the ground suddenly sprouted a new leaf.

"Huh? A new leaf?" Nagelis noticed too, surprised.

A tree-man walked over from afar: "Yes yes, a new leaf sprouted—how is this possible?"

"Huh? You're back again? You never left?" Nagelis was startled by the old tree's ghostly appearances.

"Leave? Where to? I never left—I went to seek new life. Fifty kilometers away, on the mountain, there's a newly cultivated terraced field, full of vitality—I blessed them." The old tree said.

Nagelis snapped: "That terraced field was cultivated by us—forget that, tell me why it sprouted a new leaf? What caused it? Can we speed up growth? It's been days and only one leaf—how long until it surpasses you?"

At this growth rate, to exceed the height of the Life Tree might take hundreds of thousands of years.

The old tree was also curious, studying the sprout, then looking at Ang and the little tree: "Are you symbiotic?"

Symbiotic? Ang tilted his head in confusion; the little tree tilted its head too.

"Ah, so that's why the little tree never grows—it shares one vitality with you," the old tree said.

Nagelis asked: "Sharing one vitality? What's the benefit? Will Ang's lifespan increase? If the little tree lives a hundred thousand years, split it fifty-fifty? Each gets fifty thousand? Isn't that a loss? Ang's an immortal god."

"No—immortal life remains immortal. The little tree can use your divine power to accelerate growth. If you want it to grow faster, accumulate more divine power," the old tree said, then pulled out a fruit: "Want some?"

"Accumulate divine power? Immortal divine power? Or Light divine power? What is this?" Nagelis asked, taking it and biting into it.

"I don't know. A tree-man tried to trade pollen with me—I refused. He threw me this fruit. Probably not good," the old tree said.

Nagelis spat out the bitter fruit, bile rising, roaring: "Kuba Da! You gave me something bad to eat! I'll burn you to ash! Huh~ Huh~"

Too bad his dragon breath was tiny—it only burned off two of the old tree's leaves.

"There are tree-men here too? Hey, Ang, where are you going?" After spitting out the bitter fruit, Nagelis asked curiously, then turned to see Ang preparing to leave.

"To accumulate divine power," Ang said.

"To accumulate divine power? Where to accumulate divine power?"