Tasha grasped the "Anchor," and the "Anchor" hooked onto Tasha.
[Star Realm Traveler]
"You once lingered briefly in the Astral Plane and passed its test of will. Your capacity allows you to draw but a single scoop of water from the endless river of knowledge, yet the experience of being submerged by that river ensures you will not drown so quickly the next time—your soul has been baptized by the Astral Plane, and for some reason, you left an anchor there. It is fragile, but it still exists."
It was a two-way process. As she grasped the Astral Realm's token, she received its pass; at that moment, the gates of the Astral Realm opened for Tashan. The heavens and earth did not tear apart; it was Tashan herself who was torn and fragmented. In that instant, she realized with crystal clarity that the Astral Realm was everywhere.
There were no hidden passages; the Astral Plane was simply there, though the beings of Eryan could not perceive it. It existed in another dimension overlapping with this world—omnipresent, all-encompassing, existing on a parallel plane that countless people could never touch or reach in their lifetimes. For most people in this world, it was a fantasy realm that both existed and did not exist.
In an instant, Tasa experienced what it felt like to transcend dimensions.
Perhaps describing the Astral Plane as a "high-dimensional existence" is not entirely accurate; its very existence transcends human knowledge and even human capacity for expression. This was simply the closest description Tasa could find. She had crossed into the Astral Plane before—the first time unconsciously, the second time enveloped within a forbidden spell. The incantations recorded in the Dungeon Chronicles completely shielded her, isolating her from the outside world and sacrificing their own energy to prevent Tasa from being assimilated by the Astral Plane. This time, however, just as the title description indicated, Tasa had developed a certain degree of adaptability to the Astral Plane; she could withstand the shock of resonating with it for a brief moment.
Her body became incredibly light, as if the ground had vanished beneath her feet and she were falling into the cosmos. Her soul felt a sense of fragmentation, as if being stretched and pulled until it became incredibly thin. Setting out from the anchor point of the Council of the Four Seasons, the destination was the other end of the anchor. At the far end of the Anchor of Return, Tasha saw a world.
A world within the Astral Realm resembled a fruit—both vast and minuscule. Yet this single fruit was not connected to the "tree's crown," appearing to float in the cosmos. Its sky was shattered, its air thin; the edges of its land and oceans were slowly crumbling, falling bit by bit, crashing down, and vanishing without a trace within the Astral Realm. Those edges bore the colors of withering decay; they had been beyond salvation long before death claimed them.
This was a shattered world—or rather, merely a fragment of one. It resembled an apple from which a slice had been cut and carelessly tossed aside, its cut surface slowly oxidizing into a sickening yellowish-brown.
The missing quarter of Eryan lay right before Tasa.
It wasn't large; after such a long time, perhaps only a fifth, a sixth, or even less remained. It looked terrible, but not yet utterly ruined; some force still held it in place, keeping it steady amidst the ever-shifting astral realm, like an ark sailing through the waves. At the center of the Withered Realm, a small patch of forest stood firm.
There is a circle of exceptionally tall oak trees, a banyan tree with a broad canopy, and a carpet of fuzzy grass on the ground that looks incredibly soft, making one want to run through it barefoot. Bathed in light from an unknown source, dappled shadows dance across the green grass, and ripples spread across the stream, as if it were a vibrant spring.
Beneath that massive banyan tree, amidst the lush vegetation, a handsome elf lay asleep.
His long silver hair fell smoothly over his shoulders, and his long eyelashes cast shadows. The Elf King leaned against a hollow in the tree trunk, still clad in his battle armor, as if he were resting wearily against the trunk after a fierce battle. The towering tree, the green grass, the babbling brook, and the elf within them form a beautiful tableau. The contrast with the withered wasteland surrounding it is so stark that shifting one's gaze from the outside to this scene feels like taking a sip of cold drink on a sweltering day—as if one's soul has been cleansed.
However, upon closer inspection, you will notice that something is amiss with this scene.
Most of the Elf King's body was embedded within the tree trunk, fused with it—truly, completely fused. Vines entwined the armor both inside and out, blurring the boundaries between them; his limbs were no longer visible. The base of his neck glowed a bluish-green; beneath his jade-white skin, it seemed as though plant sap flowed through his veins. This demigod elf had clearly grown together with the giant tree behind him.
Ah, no, Tasha realized quickly.
He hadn't grown together with the giant tree, nor was it a case of one parasitizing the other. The giant tree itself was rooted in the Elf King; it was born of him and grew by relying on him. It had sprouted from behind him, broken through the earth, taken root, and eventually flourished into its current form. The Elf King's spine had grown into this giant tree, like a butterfly unfurling a pair of wings of unparalleled magnitude.
Was it truly a banyan tree? I don't know; most likely, it was merely something resembling one. Countless branches and trunks grew into the giant tree's canopy, supporting one another as their foliage spread out—like the tree's aerial roots taking root to form pillars, or a single tree becoming a forest; or like thousands of small trees growing as one, interwoven and echoing one another from afar. Sixteen oak trees encircled this last remaining forest, like a ring of defenders standing their ground, not a blade of grass growing outside the circle, yet lush and verdant within.
Tasha had not seen the Great Druid or the other elves.
Tasha had already seen the Great Druid and the other elves.
Each generation of Grand Druids buried their remains here, and new saplings sprouted from their graves, growing vigorously. They would transform into oak trees, forming a new sacred grove. The Wood Elves came from the forest and returned to it; legend held that their souls would return to the elven paradise, their bodies merging with their homeland to guard their king.
After a journey spanning hundreds of years, only the Elven King remained here.
The ruler of the Wood Elves opened his eyes at that moment.
What eyes they were! In them, Tasa saw hundreds of years of lonely waiting, and hundreds of years of unyielding hope. This Elven King, possessing the power of a demigod, had guarded this wandering world for centuries after his path home was cut off and his companions had fallen into slumber one by one. He gazed at Tasa from afar, looking somewhat surprised, then smiled.
There was no time for introductions, no time for questions or answers—it was as if an arrow shot toward the sky had reached its zenith, and just before it began to fall, it could only cast a distant glance at the bright moon. Tasha heard a soft rustling sound, as if a gentle breeze were blowing through the forest, causing every leaf to sway gently.
The Elf King's body fell backward, swallowed by the tree trunk, his armor vanishing along with his remaining form. The giant tree began to stretch with a creaking sound, like a giant straightening its body, its bones popping. Sixteen oak trees waved farewell, thousands of saplings whispered to one another, and brilliant golden and silver blossoms suddenly burst open, spreading like ripples from the center of the canopy to the outermost layer of the vast canopy.
Whoosh!
This magnificent blossoming came so swiftly and fiercely, like a sudden blizzard causing thousands of trees to bloom with pear blossoms, like fireworks suddenly ignited, creating a night sky ablaze with fiery trees and silver flowers. In the blink of an eye, the world beyond the oak circle shattered completely, while the forest within was gradually assimilated by the blossoms, transforming into a stream of light. The fragments of this world, which had struggled to survive for four hundred years, bloomed in this moment, resembling a red giant star suddenly exploding.
The contaminated zone was flung away from the center, turning into a nebula; everything in the central zone, centered around the giant tree, contracted again and again, growing ever brighter and heavier. That small fragment of the world disintegrated before Tasha, collapsing into a tiny speck of light. This orb of light, condensed from everything, was so blinding it was impossible to look at directly, so heavy it was impossible to bear. As she instinctively averted her gaze, the orb of light flew into her arms.
Tasha began to "fall."
She could not remain in the Astral Realm forever, just as a novice diver cannot stay underwater for long before having to resurface. Tasha's floating body regained its weight; she touched solid ground and found herself in a familiar setting. Around her lay the small grove where she had washed, the campfire still smoldering gently. The silver wolf by her side lifted its head in startled alarm, as if just awakening from a dream so vivid it could have been reality. The flaps of two tents were pulled aside, and the heads of Mavis and Eugenson peeked out.
They exchanged glances and knew immediately that what had just happened was no dream.
The Star Realm and the Elf King had departed, and the four elves who had presided over the trial had vanished without a trace. The drifting shard of the world had finally awaited visitors from its homeland; with the world's demise, the anchor point lost its meaning, and thus the magic circle centered upon it had also reached its end. Where had the four guardians gone? They must have returned to the elven paradise as well. This long sentence had reached its end; the gatekeepers, who had confined themselves within a prison of their own making four hundred years ago, were finally set free.
"What is that?" Eugenson whispered.
Tasha looked down; she was cradling a fist-sized object in her hands. It still glowed faintly, as if it were a star that had just fallen from the sky.
This was the orb of light that had just been placed in Tasa's arms.
It had once shone as brightly as the rising sun, yet to the touch it was neither scorching hot nor icy cold. It felt smooth and warm, like a piece of jade. Tasa opened her hands, and the remnant of a quarter of the world rolled within them.
"This feeling…" Mavis paused, seemingly unable to find the right words, "makes me feel at home."
It was only natural.
During their brief encounter in the Astral Realm, Tasa and the Elf King had not exchanged a single word. But the moment the orb was placed in Tasa's hands, she understood what it was. The Wandering Forest bloomed and withered, and in an instant, the mature seed fell into Tasa's hands.
"The Tree of Life," Tasa said, as surprised as her listeners. "Plant it, and perhaps an elf will grow from it."
Wood elves come from the forest and return to it.
"What's going on?"
Martin, the human guide, peered out sleepily. He looked puzzled at the circle of people (and a silver wolf) gathered outside the tent. The uninvited onlookers were baffled, unaware of what had transpired in that frozen moment of time, unaware that their fellow travelers had just encountered a spirit from centuries past and witnessed a phantom drifting through the astral realm.
"The moon has risen," Eugensen said with a smile.
Yes, the moon had risen.
The magical array blocking the clearing from the sky had vanished; the curtain had been lifted, revealing the true night sky. Scattered stars dotted the dark canopy, and a crescent moon hung in the heavens, quietly casting the moonlight of this era.
...
The journey to the former sacred site of the Druids had been fruitful.
The original purpose of the journey had been fulfilled. Within the Hall of True Knowledge, the two-colored key had been filled, the story had been told, and she had witnessed the magic arrow tear open the passage to the Astral Realm. Under the protection of the Four Seasons Council and the Elven King, all the Wood Elves stepped into the void and entered the Astral Realm.
The so-called Gate to the Astral Realm was more like a convergence point between different dimensions. The Elven King's magic arrow pierced it, firmly anchoring the ever-shifting space; the Great Druid's barrier protected the Wood Elves as they journeyed into the Astral Realm, using their own arrangements to guide the way.
The travelers successfully entered the Astral Plane, and they succeeded in removing the contaminated quarter of the world from Eryan, but they were unable to return. The images within the Mirror Gate offered no answers; Tasa saw only the Grand Druid's grave expression and the anxious faces of the common elves.
The Green Key's revelation ends here; it has answered the question of "where the Grand Druid and the Wood Elves went."
The answers this journey brought Tasha were more than she had ever expected.
Between five hundred and four hundred and fifty years ago, the demon lords of the Abyss united in an attempt to destroy the Prime Material Plane and divide its energy among themselves. Upon discovering this, the Celestial Realm made the news public. At the same time, the creatures of the mortal realm realized that the beings of the Celestial Realm shared the same intentions as the demons. The Eryan Declaration was signed, and the various races of the Prime Material Plane formed a secret alliance.
Over four hundred years ago, the Planar War erupted, pitting the Celestial Realm, the Abyss, and the Prime Material Plane against one another. Mortals allied with the Celestial Realm to expel the Abyss, but the Prime Material Plane coalition then borrowed the Abyss's power to drive out the Celestials—only to be betrayed by the Abyss, resulting in widespread planar corruption. To prevent the corruption from spreading, the Wood Elves, Children of Nature, and the Druids' Council of the Four Seasons prepared for the "Journey," severing a quarter of Eryan to purify it in the Astral Plane. They encountered some unforeseen event and, having departed, were unable to return. As for the Astral Plane, after a single appearance, it gradually faded into a lost legend.
The gaps in the timeline were suddenly filled in.
Questions remain, such as what exactly the Druids and Elves who embarked on the Journey encountered out there. Their attitude upon departure was far too carefree; they scarcely considered the possibility of not returning. They did not set out with a resolve to die, nor did they leave behind extensive preparations. If losing their anchor meant losing their way, the guards left behind at the former sacred site should not have consisted of just a single high-ranking druid. Yet that druid, after waiting for several elven practitioners to arrive, departed without a second thought, showing little concern.
Among the participants were the Elven King, who had lived for untold ages and was revered as a demigod on the mainland, and the Grand Druid of the Council of the Four Seasons, a figure of unparalleled power and knowledge among all the druids of Eryan. Is it possible that they all miscalculated? Could they all have made mistakes in a matter of such critical importance to the fate of their entire race? And could the powerful beings who looked to them to save Eryan really have turned a blind eye to this?
Unexpected events often surpass everyone's expectations, and things happened too quickly.
They hadn't considered preparations beyond the anchor points, likely because they believed those preparations would suffice. Moreover, should those fail, there were other remedies—such as mages capable of entering the Astral Plane, as the elven mage had mentioned. Few people prepare for cataclysms that defy all reason before they occur. It's like living in an ordinary world and never thinking about what to do if the sky were to fall.
The elf mage said that after the planar pull was completed, the Astral Plane would be in turmoil, and even the greatest mages would be unable to enter. With the anchor vanishing so quickly, the four Wood Elves present had to act decisively and use the magic circle to preserve the flame—there was no other way. Before the Wood Elves and the Grand Druid departed, they never imagined they would encounter such a bizarre accident. Nor did the four elves realize, as they activated the magic circle, that centuries after the War of the Heavens and Earth, massive-scale warfare had still not ceased. The sealed realm of Eryan remained in utter chaos; later, the chaotic battle turned into a one-sided expulsion and slaughter, and countless secrets and knowledge were thus lost in the flames of war. They were so close to not living long enough to see the one who could open the gate.
Tasha felt a tinge of fear, mixed with a survivor's relief. It was as if she were standing at the mouth of a river of time, looking upstream, and realizing that her survival had depended on so many coincidences—the death of any single ancestor would have meant her own non-existence.
If Tasa had never come here, if she hadn't chosen this path, or if she had chosen it but failed to reach this point, then the four Gatekeepers would have continued to wait—and wait, and wait—until the flame they guarded lost all meaning, until the wanderers of the Astral Realm sighed and faded away, with no one coming to save them.
This is the part where Tasa can still participate and exert influence; there are far more events that remain entirely beyond the reach of her efforts. If the Great Druid and the Wood Elves had not made such sacrifices, if the last four Wood Elves of Eryan had not resolutely given their lives, if the Elf King had not persisted to this day, that thread-thin answer would have been lost in the vastness of time, becoming yet another unsolvable riddle.
With so much good fortune, with so many people shedding blood, sweat, and tears in unseen corners, Tasa stood on the steps built from the remains of those who came before her and felt a sense of awe.
And a heavy weight.
"It's my turn," she thought.
The baton had been passed to Tasa. She had inherited the culmination of so many people's hard work; in her hands lay a wealth of questions and answers. Tasa felt as though she were standing at a pivotal moment in history. She thought, "If I have so many advantages over those who came before me, yet fail to achieve results that surpass my predecessors, wouldn't that make me utterly incompetent?"
It wasn't just a matter of responsibility; the very act of unraveling the truth, layer by layer, filled her with excitement.
Throughout the entire affair, Tasa also noticed an issue the Elven Mage had overlooked. The current situation in Eryan stemmed from the Eryan Declaration, yet the Elven Mage had traced the story's origins back to the disturbances in the Abyss. However, Tasa did not believe the demon lords' withdrawal was simply because they "had no idea what they were doing."
Indeed, the Abyss was incredibly chaotic, and the Abyss lords held divergent stances, despising one another, yet fighting together only amidst the ebb and flow of the Abyss—and that was precisely the problem. What could possibly compel such a chaotic confederation to withdraw simultaneously—just as they had once united to attack the Celestial Realm—and begin preparing to destroy Eryan?
"'Contamination' is no different from 'carving up the spoils,'" Victor muttered to himself in a vision of the past. "What a pity. A Material Plane just like the Abyss—how utterly boring that would be."
At that moment, he thought: It must be this way; there is no other option; there is no third possibility.
What could have compelled this rebellious demon lord to make such a choice? The actions of the Archdemons were not a whim, nor can one say they were significantly linked to the Celestial Realm's operations. If the Celestial Realm had long been capable of taking decisive action to determine the outcome, why hadn't they done so during the long years that preceded this? There must be a difference; there must be a reason.
For Tasa, facing the threat of the Abyss, this was likely the more pressing issue.
If only Victor would wake up; perhaps he could provide some answers of value. The dungeon's gaze couldn't help but converge on the Demon Pool—on the cocoon enveloping the former demon lord. Having undergone a test of benevolence in his slumber, the demon lord remained fast asleep, unaware of how much his body had grown within that mysterious substance.
Tasha felt a bit tempted to probe what was going on inside, but then, for some reason, she pictured a child cutting open a silkworm cocoon. Half a cocoon containing half a Victor… Ugh, better not.
Things without a progress bar are truly nerve-wracking, unlike the current dungeon cards, which are clear at a glance.
[Dungeon - Tasa]
Merging and restructuring in progress, Progress: 75/100
Returning to the Astral Plane, gazing at the Elf King from afar, and obtaining the Tree of Life seed—the growth resulting from this series of events amounted to a full fifteen percent, almost on par with the first time she saw the Astral Plane (twenty percent). A few more events like this, and the progress bar will be full.
Once the completion rate exceeded three-quarters, the Dungeon Card underwent a slight change.
Tasha originally had three titles: [Keeper] (drawing elements from the protected to form a body), [Dragon] (You guard your territory and subjects as a dragon guards its treasure—grants additional Dragon attribute bonuses), and [Astral Traveler] (Carrying the Astral Realm's token and armed with the courage to face it head-on, you are ready to set out on your journey once more). Now, a new empty slot has appeared after the most recently added [Astral Traveler].
Title: [???]
That's right—a row of question marks. Just like the dungeon restructuring progress before connecting to the Abyss, nothing could be discerned. What on earth is this? Tasha chuckled. Has the system I built myself even learned to drop teasers to build anticipation? Compared to the title name, which was completely obscured, the text below appeared blurry, like frosted glass—as if a quick wipe would reveal the details. Tasha reached out in her mind, but found nothing.
It probably just needs more time to unlock.
The "Homecoming Squad" set off on their journey home, but before that, the Shaman Druid Tasha had summoned went ahead first. The Druid, who could transform into a golden eagle, carried the Tree of Life seed and returned ahead of time to Tasmalin State to plant it in a safe place.
Most Wood Elves are born from birth, and the idea of an elf sprouting from a Tree of Life is largely a legend. The legendary Tree of Life is as unproductive as the Wood Elves themselves; it won't bear fruit for decades. Tasha simply wanted to plant the tree as soon as possible; she didn't expect a harvest.
But when they returned, the Tree of Life seed that had arrived weeks earlier had already taken root, sprouted, and even blossomed and borne fruit.