The Foundation Building division had concluded, but the Core Formation and Golden Core competitions were still in full swing.

  For the next few days, Devor and Yulin immersed themselves in the duels within the Fragment World, closely observing the battles of more advanced cultivators while mingling with disciples from various sects.

  Each sect carried its own philosophies, rivalries, and hidden agendas, but in Vinix City, those distinctions blurred. Beneath its towering pagodas and ancient formations, this gathering wasn’t about sect loyalty—it was about opportunity.

  Powerful figures watched from the shadows. Alliances formed in hushed conversations.

  For Devor, this event wasn’t just a spectacle—it was a marketplace of knowledge.

  One of the greatest privileges of his Divine Disciple status was access to Vinix City’s highly secured library.

  Thanks to his identity token, he had unrestricted entry to the first three floors—a privilege most cultivators would kill for.

  After hours of combing through the vast shelves, he finally found what he was looking for—three tomes on Spiritual Plant Synthesis.

  As he ran his fingers along their worn spines, a small smile tugged at his lips.

  “In the cultivation world, this kind of knowledge is worth more than gold,” he murmured.

  Synthesis wasn’t just an art—it was an industry, tightly regulated and fiercely guarded.

  Even with the knowledge he had now, attempting synthesis experiments would be no small feat. Understanding the theory was one thing—having the resources, time, and skill to execute it was another entirely.

  He couldn’t help but compare it to oil drilling back on Earth. The process itself was challenging, but the real struggle lay in controlling the resource.

  In the world of cultivation, information was currency, and Devor had just acquired something invaluable.

  But he wasn’t na?ve. He understood the weight of what he held.

  The Azure Sky Sect couldn’t simply publicly release newly synthesized plant-based products—it would disrupt the balance of power between sects.

  But its disciples?

  They were free to act as they pleased.

  If someone like Devor introduced a groundbreaking product, the sect wouldn’t be officially involved, yet it would still reap the long-term rewards.

  Clever. Ruthless. Efficient.

  Devor exhaled softly. Even something as sacred as cultivation wasn’t free from power struggles.

  Still, he had no intention of letting this knowledge go to waste.

  After gathering over a dozen Communication Tokens from various disciples, he locked himself away in his quarters, determined to master the tomes before him.

  Each book wasn’t just an ordinary copy—every single one was guarded by a rune mechanism.

  Before he could even open them, Devor had to undergo a verification process.

  Anyone attempting to force open or steal the contents would trigger a self-destruction—the book turning to ash in an instant.

  Such extreme measures only highlighted how valuable and dangerous this knowledge truly was.

  Once he began, Devor was lost to it completely.

  For two weeks, the days blurred into one long stretch. Hours melted away as he sat cross-legged on the floor, absorbed in complex theories, decoding ancient formulas, and testing his ideas through Ultimate Synthesis.

  Yulin came by occasionally.

  But each time she saw Devor’s unyielding focus, his gaze burning with determination, she quietly left without a word.

  This side of him was rare—she knew better than to interrupt.

  Inside his room, Devor sat deep in meditation, fully immersed in Ultimate Synthesis.

  His sea of consciousness expanded, glowing orbs of knowledge linking together in an intricate, shimmering web.

  After an extended session, Devor finally opened his eyes and murmured,

  "This is... interesting."

  Even if he managed to synthesize a True Fire Plant, it wouldn’t be identical to the original.

  It would be something new—perhaps stronger, perhaps unstable.

  The knowledge in these books had been distilled from thousands of failures.

  But theory could only take him so far. The books lacked crucial details:

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  How many plant elements were needed to properly fuse a Brew Moon Plant?

  When refining a fire-element plant, how much of its original essence had to be extracted before it became unstable?

  What external factors—temperature, spiritual pressure, elemental balance—were necessary for a successful synthesis?

  The books held answers, but not the full truth.

  That was for him to discover.

  A thrill ran through him.

  "Synthesizing a Spiritual Tree... now that would be truly fascinating."

  Devor’s mind raced.

  If he could truly master Synthesis… could he create something entirely new?

  An ordinary tree, transformed—a Phoenix Tree imbued with fire attributes?

  The possibilities were staggering.

  But then—

  A single thought made his pulse slow.

  What if the Sect Master’s reward wasn’t just a gift… but a test?

  They had given him access to a one-of-a-kind Spiritual Tree.

  Maybe they were waiting—watching to see if he could push Synthesis beyond its limits.

  If that was the case…

  Then his path was already set.

  The weight of realization settled over him. Devor exhaled slowly.

  Failure wasn’t an option.

  ??????

  A few days later, Devor finally stepped out of his room.

  For the past two weeks, he had been completely absorbed—studying the intricacies of Spiritual Plant Synthesis, experimenting with Ultimate Synthesis, and refining his theories.

  Now, it was time to return to the real world.

  Seeking out Yulin, he found her easily, and together, they made their way to the gathering place, where sect disciples clustered in lively discussion circles.

  The air hummed with energy.

  Groups of cultivators debated fiercely, exchanging insights and challenging each other's knowledge.

  This wasn’t idle chatter—this was how ideas evolved, how breakthroughs were made.

  As soon as they arrived, Yulin immediately veered off, heading toward a group deep in conversation about Flying Sword techniques.

  Devor raised an eyebrow.

  Flying Swords?

  He had always known Yulin as a Spiritual Farmer with a knack for Alchemy, but she rarely spoke about her combat skills.

  Yet as he watched, he noticed how easily she joined the discussion, sharing techniques with seasoned disciples.

  His thoughts turned inward.

  "Her strongest skill… isn’t Spiritual Farming or Alchemy, is it?"

  Devor pictured her in battle—five Flying Swords orbiting around her, each one an extension of her will, striking with effortless precision.

  A quiet chuckle escaped him.

  Yulin wasn’t simple.

  She had likely always known where her true strengths lay. But mastering Flying Swords required immense resources. Maybe her work in Spiritual Farming and Alchemy wasn’t just a side interest—it was how she funded her real passion.

  It seemed everyone had their own path to power.

  Shaking the thought aside, Devor turned his attention to the Spiritual Farmer discussion group.

  It didn’t take long to find them.

  Seated around a large, round table, the disciples greeted him warmly, recognizing him from the tournament. Most were experienced cultivators specializing in Spiritual Farming.

  The conversation flowed naturally.

  At first, they focused on practical techniques—optimizing soil composition, refining Spiritual Plant growth, and incorporating supplementary materials to enhance cultivation.

  Then, the discussion shifted to cost efficiency. Several disciples eagerly exchanged tricks on cutting expenses while maximizing results.

  For the most part, Devor listened, absorbing the discussion with quiet focus.

  But when the conversation turned to Spiritual Plants themselves, he leaned in, fully engaged.

  "The common belief," one disciple said, "is that fire-element and water-element plants should never be grown near each other. They interfere with one another, stunting each other’s growth."

  Devor tilted his head slightly, a faint smile forming.

  "That’s true—if you only think in pairs."

  The disciples turned to him, intrigued.

  "Why stop at two elements?" Devor continued. "Gardens are vast. Instead of avoiding conflict, why not introduce a third element—one that acts as a bridge?"

  A brief silence followed.

  Then—curiosity flickered in their eyes.

  "Explain."

  Devor traced an invisible layout on the table with his fingers.

  "Fire and water naturally resist each other. But if you introduce a third plant—one with a neutralizing attribute, like earth or wood—it creates a natural resonance. Instead of clashing, the three elements balance each other, forming a stable cycle where each plant reinforces the others rather than competing."

  Excited murmurs rippled through the group.

  One disciple nodded eagerly, acknowledging that Devor’s theory made sense. But then, he raised a counterpoint.

  "That’s an interesting idea. But the risk is enormous. If the balance isn’t perfect, the entire system collapses. Fire could overpower, or water could suppress. You’d lose that entire section of the garden."

  Devor didn’t argue. Instead, he nodded thoughtfully.

  "That’s why I need to refine the approach. There are advanced Spiritual Farming techniques that might help control the instability."

  If he could master those methods, his skills in Spiritual Farmer would reach an entirely new level.

  And if he succeeded…

  He wouldn’t just be enhancing traditional techniques—he’d be forging a new path in Spiritual Plant cultivation.

  Just as the discussion was gaining momentum, another disciple introduced an unexpected idea.

  "There’s another way to strengthen plants," he said. "It’s unconventional, but have you ever considered using water-element Elixirs on fire-element plants?"

  The group paused, turning the idea over in their minds.

  Devor leaned in. "Go on."

  The disciple explained, "A fire-element plant, when exposed to a water-element Elixir, senses the temporary loss of fire energy. To compensate, it instinctively absorbs even more fire-element essence from the environment. In theory, this should make it stronger over time."

  The idea hit Devor like a bolt of insight.

  "You're saying… instead of protecting the plant from hardship, you push it into a temporary crisis—forcing it to evolve?"

  The disciple nodded.

  "Exactly. By momentarily disrupting its stability, you make it fight back harder. If controlled properly, the plant won’t just recover—it’ll come out far stronger than before."

  Devor’s mind raced.

  This wasn’t just about Spiritual Plants.

  It was cultivation itself.

  In the Fragment World, where resources were scarce and the environment was unforgiving, the plants that endured weren’t just survivors—they were stronger than anything nurtured in comfort.

  It was a universal law.

  Struggle created strength.

  And that truth didn’t just apply to plants.

  It applied to people too.

  Devor murmured to himself, "Perhaps… this is the secret behind all true growth."

  As the discussion continued, excitement thrummed in his veins.

  He could already see the possibilities unfolding.

  What if he combined this concept with his earlier theory?

  Instead of cultivating an artificially stable garden, he could design an ecosystem of controlled adversity—one that constantly pushed the plants, forcing them to evolve beyond their natural limits.

  A garden that wasn’t just balanced—but tempered.

  Would it be dangerous?

  Absolutely.

  But was it worth pursuing?

  Without question.

  After the discussion, Devor sat alone, staring at his notes.

  This was just the beginning.

  There were theories to test, techniques to refine, and experiments to conduct.

  But the real challenge?

  Could he control the power he was trying to unlock?

  Because one thing was becoming undeniable—

  If Spiritual Plants could evolve beyond their natural limits…

  Then what was stopping cultivators from doing the same?