Reborn as a Demonic Tree
Chapter 448: Eternity

"System, where are we?" Ashlock asked as he looked around. This wasn't the void despite the endless darkness, and it certainly didn't feel like heaven. Encircling him, souls were moved across a sea of golden hellfire by a nonexistent wind. Their souls were orbs of varying size and color, likely representing their level of cultivation and affinity type when they had been alive.

However, colored steam wafted off the souls as they were bathed in the divine hellfire. He could hear their screams—feel their suffering. It was a truly horrific experience.

[This is the afterlife]

"What is the afterlife exactly."

[A place dedicated to the recycling of Qi from lost souls]

"What's a lost soul?"

[A soul without a vessel. The moment your soul leaves your body, it can only stay in reality for so long before it fades out and is brought here. To be recycled]

"You keep saying recycled. What do you mean by that?"

[The heavens don't technically have infinite Qi, but they can convert divine energy gained from people believing in it into other Qi types. It's quite an intensive process, and the heavens lose a lot of Qi to the void and pocket realms so to maintain its existence, it has to recycle what Qi it can]

Ashlock looked around at the burning souls. The ones closest to him still had most, if not all, of their personality, Qi, and life remaining. But the ones further away were shrinking to a uniform size and transitioning into a blank white color. He looked up, trying to follow the trails of Qi smoke coming off the souls, but it seemingly went nowhere, just up into the endless expanse.

"So let me get this straight. The heavens don't have infinite Qi and need to recycle Qi from lost souls to ensure there's enough Qi to keep everything in balance. If that's the case, if I were to go ahead with making The Eternal Grove of Rebirth, where I prevent souls from entering the afterlife, wouldn't I be lowering the amount of Qi in the system and, in turn, weaken the heavens? Furthermore, if I were to show more cultivators the truth about the heavens and have them worship me instead, wouldn't that also weaken the heavens as they would have less divine energy to transform?"

[Yes, that is correct]

"I see. One thing I still don't understand is why the heavens feel the need to completely strip away everything from the souls? Including their memories and affinity type."

Ashlock wasn't sure what the heaven's goals were, but if it was just recycling, surely leaving their memories intact would be fine.

[Two reasons. First, to weaken origins. An origin regains all their past knowledge by meditating on their dao. Origins would maintain their memories and affinity from birth if not for this purge, allowing them to progress dangerously quickly. Secondly, the heavens do not want progress]

"They don't want progress... but why..."

[The Mudcloaks are one such example]

"Ah—so it was the heavens that locked them away?!"

[I cannot comment further]

"Is that so..."

With that example, it made sense. The Mudcloaks were self-replicating murder gremlins able to build spaceships. If he was the heavens, he would be scared of them—hell, even he was, and they were on the same team.

Also, with how long people could live here and how healthy and productive the mortals could be, it was baffling how the world's technological level seemed stuck. Only the Mudcloaks impressed him with their odd industrial knowledge, such as making assembly lines or building ships.

Is that why they had been trapped in that pocket realm devoid of anything except an apex predator that suppressed them to the point of near extinction? If so, who put them there? The heavens? Or was it someone else?

Ashlock then realized there were other measures set in place to prevent progress. The monsters, beings twisted by corrupted Qi, roamed the realms, forcing mortals to depend on resource-intensive cultivators to defend them. The cultivators also couldn't freely move between the layers of creation to trade resources or knowledge unless there was an era of ascension, but the World Tree never lasted forever. It was always cut down before it could reach the heavens.

In a twisted sense, the heavens were neither good nor evil—only pragmatic.

"I believe their sole concern is survival through balance," Ashlock concluded. "Cultivators must be strong enough to suppress the monsters but not so powerful that they live forever and hoard too much Qi or threaten the heavens themselves. At the same time, the monsters can't be made too weak. If the mortals grow complacent, technological progress could bloom, and that, too, threatens the balance as Qi-based weapons could defeat the monsters and cultivators."

It was an almost masterful balance that would have continued to work—if not for him. He was an anomaly. An entity that didn't conform to the system set in place. Instead of weakening through battle by expending Qi, he grew stronger by devouring his foes and converting them into credits.

Perhaps this was the first time that he truly believed in Senior Lee's belief that he would be the one to overthrow the heavens. At the time, and even now, he was just a spirit tree that was oddly powerful but weak in the grand scheme of things. In comparison, the heavens had seemed like this undefeatable foe that lorded from above.

However, while it was all-powerful when scrutinized, it was a careful stack of systems at the end of the day. Perhaps his computer scientist brain, which was trained to take big problems and break them down into their smallest components, was causing him to get ahead of himself. But he could see it... a path to victory. He just had to dismantle heaven's carefully woven reality by disrupting one cycle, system, and part at a time.

Then, before the heavens knew it, the careful balance would be tipped, and everything would come crashing down. Hoarding souls and stopping this recycling process was one such example.

While he had been lost in thought, Elysia had been busy utilizing his telekinesis and working alongside Akasha, who was conjuring tendrils of aether Qi to reach across the divine hellfire and rescue the souls.

"Mhm, we must leave soon," Ashlock noted, seeing the divine energy eating away at the aether Qi shield and the tendrils. He had hoped that aether Qi was entirely immune to the energy of the heavens, but it seemed it was only very resistant. If the aether Qi shield failed, the void one from Erebus would only last a few seconds before conceding to the overwhelming force of heaven.

Moros was in danger of being cut in two by the closing rift, leaving Elysia and Akasha stuck in the afterlife.

"Well, maybe not stuck. Elysia was the one to tear open the rift to the afterlife in the first place, so she could probably do it again. It's just my desolation Qi is useless in here because I don't have divine dao... Wait, why don't I have divine dao? I'm a demi-god and use it all the time."

[To contemplate even a fraction of divine dao would make you a full-fledged god, or perhaps even the heavens themselves]

Ashlock sighed. It made sense, but it would have been quite useful right now.

"That means if I want to devour the heavens with my desolation Qi, I need to collect all nine of those divine fragments first," Ashlock mused. "Senior Lee gave me the first one and told me the strongest person on each layer of creation possesses the other ones. That means I must systematically conquer each layer of creation first to become a true god."

It would be a long and laborious process, but the good news was that each subsequent layer of creation only introduced one new realm of power—meaning that if he ascended to the 8th layer of creation while at the Monarch Realm, he would only have one more realm of cultivation to reach, the Sovereigns of Realities Realm, to be able to contend with that layer's strongest cultivators.

Not to mention the allies he has under his control. Larry, Kaida, Nyxalia, and even Maple. He might also be able to bring Maple's siblings into reality, which would significantly boost his sect's overall fighting strength, as Worldwalkers were frankly overpowered.

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

If Ashlock could grin, he would. He could almost smell the heaven's fear. They knew he was coming, yet there was little they could do about it. The heaven's strength weakened the further the layer of creation was from them, giving him free rein to ascend. The usual safeguards the heavens had in place to crush resistance, such as the beast tide, would only feed his rise to power, assuming he survived.

He was literally the definition of 'what doesn't kill you makes you stronger.'

"System, do you think the heavens fear me?" Ashlock asked as he assisted Elysia and Akasha with gathering the souls. Moros was becoming filled with them, and there weren't many left in the afterlife. Just a few lone stragglers.

[The heavens are infinitely powerful as they created and control everything that makes up your reality. How could they know fear?]

Ashlock knew that was a flawed argument.

"If I was aware of an infinite amount of even numbers, I would know an infinite number of things. But what about the infinite number of odd numbers? The only thing I can know for sure is that I do not know everything. To think anything different is hubris."

[But the threads of fate—]

"Are possibilities known to the heavens. There are an infinite number of possibilities. The threads of fate merely cover the ones the heavens are aware of and have control over. The heavens only believe themselves invincible and will continue to believe that as a fact... until someone proves them otherwise—" Ashlock swallowed his words as a deep groan resounded through the darkness. It was as if a titan had been awoken from its slumber. He peered into the dark expanse but couldn't see the source. Whatever it had been, he had no plans on finding out.

"We need to leave," Ashlock began pulling Moros back through the rift.

"Wait a second," Elysia shouted, "There's still a few more souls here. We can't leave yet."

She wasn't lying. There was the odd soul still lingering around. While not many compared to the millions they had rescued, there were still a hundred or so left. In the grand scheme of things, they had done what they had come here to do. Almost every soul had been saved, and it was too risky to stay.

But what if he had been one of these souls? Left behind to burn in hellfire. While they would forget being left behind as their memories and Qi were stripped from them, their families awaiting their return would continue to grieve them.

"Fine." Ashlock paused Moros's retreat. "Grab them and fast, I don't know what that was."

He worked alongside Elysia to systematically reel in each of the stray souls. It was the most mythical version of fishing anyone had likely done. Who else could claim that, as a spirit tree, they had invaded the afterlife and gone fishing?

With only a handful of souls left, the realm-shaking groan happened again.

"Okay, we really gotta go."

"Just three more, there, there and there!" Elysia pointed toward them, "I'll grab the nearest, and you and Akasha will get the other two."

Ashlock did not like this at all, but only three were left.

"Be quick about it," he ushered them into action. Three tendrils of aether Qi shot out from Moros into the expanse and latched onto the stray souls. They bobbed slightly as if on the water and then desperately clung onto the tendrils—showing how much of the soul's original intelligence remained.

On that note, would these poor souls be the same after this? He imagined experiencing the act of dying would be enough to send anyone down a different path. Sullivan was a perfect example—he hadn't even died, just been reduced to a mortal—yet his worldview totally changed. These souls had not only experienced death but also the horrors of hell.

"Oh?"

Ashlock froze. The sound had come from... above. He looked up and met a pair of golden eyes peering down at him. They were like twin suns in the darkness. He had claimed to Elysia that the system was the divine voice, but this was a real divine voice. If it wasn't a true god staring him down, then it was the heavens themselves.

The eyes came closer, showing their titanic size. They really were like twin stars; Moros was a speck of dust in comparison.

"You're not supposed to be here—at least not yet." The divine voice said. It did not show fear or contempt. Its tone was all-knowing, filled with subtle arrogance. Almost like it had been expecting him and found his little heist adorable.

The three remaining souls had been retrieved, and Ashlock had no reason to stay. Yet, he did. It wasn't often he got to speak face-to-face with such an entity.

A massive spectral finger loomed out of the darkness from above. Its size made Moros, the flagship of Ashfallen, look like nothing but an annoying pimple that the finger was about to push back to where it came from.

Elysia seemed panicked for once, "Let's go!"

"No, hold on," Ashlock replied.

He had to take this opportunity to ask a god a question. He could ask hundreds of questions, but out of them all, a single one demanded an answer.

"What is it you fear the most?" Ashlock asked with Abyssal Whispers toward the eyes, and to his surprise, the finger paused. The eyes narrowed, scrutinizing Moros.

"I've been asked many questions in my lifetimes, but never that one." The finger continued moving, its nail coming to a rest against Moros's shield. But it did not continue to push—the finger remained stationary as the god contemplated his question.

"There is only one thing I fear," it eventually replied after what seemed like forever.

Ashlock couldn't believe this entity had something to fear.

"What is it?" He asked, deathly curious.

The answer was a single word.

"Eternity."

It was Ashlock's turn to be surprised. That wasn't the answer he had been expecting. What was there to fear about eternity?

"Maybe that is what separates you from me," Ashlock said as he stared up at the twin suns, "I fear foes that threaten me, but when you are so powerful and almost nothing can kill you—the only thing that can still stand above you are the very concepts that make up your existence."

The eyes leaned in even closer, "You will be surprised to find out how similar we really are, little tree." An immense pressure pushed against Moros's shield, making it crackle, "But you have overstayed your welcome here."

Ashlock respected the being's wishes and pulled back. The rift closed up around Moros as he withdrew, collapsing to an impossibly small point and finally vanishing. The sky instantly calmed, with the wrath of the heavens cut off.

Since the threat was gone, Moros's shields powered down, letting the millions of gathered souls spill out. Drawn to the trails of death Qi rising from the flowers planted on the graves, the excited souls floated through the realm of death to find their resting place.

Ashlock watched the proceeds from above, his restless mind wandering. This funeral had given him a surprising amount to think about moving forward. He now saw a path before him to defeating the heavens, and weirdly, he was feeling more like a godly being than ever before. But the entity's answer to what he feared most was bugging him and how nonchalant it had seemed about a tree invading the afterlife and stealing souls.

"Wait, how did it even know I was a tree?"

A system message broke him from his stupor.

[Formation of the Blessed Land: The Eternal Grove of Rebirth is complete]

Ashlock spiritually blinked at the notification. It was done so fast? Looking down, he realized the world was bathed in darkness, not because of his Blessed Land, but because it was now the dead of night.

A lot of time had seemingly passed while he was musing.

The Blessed Land was as advertised. It appeared to be present in reality from afar, but when someone walked inside its borders, they phased into a pocket realm with different laws and could be smaller or bigger than it looked. For the Eternal Grove of Rebirth, it was very much the latter. Despite taking up the entire valley, he could tell the pocket realm was simply vast—like a whole world of its own.

Contained within was a spiritual forest. At first glance, everything seemed to be real. The demonic trees, flora, and wildlife all seemed present and physical. But it was like an illusion. The mortals phased through the forest, unable to touch anything. Whatever their hands passed through seemed to briefly turn to mist before reforming. There was still a clear line between the living and dead in this place, despite how blurred that line may be.

While the ethereal forest was impressive, the nine towering bodhi trees caught his attention. It didn't take him long to realize they were spirit trees housing the nine souls of the Blightbane family. Their death Qi was feeding into the grove, keeping everything stable.

Thousands of mortals were gathered around each of these bodhi trees and seemingly praying. Listening in, Ashlock realized they were all requesting for their souls to come here once they died. A service the nine bodhi trees were actually offering.

Ashlock was frankly in awe and wanted to express his appreciation to Elysia for a job well done. Looking around, he located the crazed woman. She was sitting on the edge of Moros, who still loomed overhead, with her legs dangling off the edge. Sitting beside her was a fully healed Stella and Diana. Then, chatting behind them under the shade of Erebus were Ryker, Sebastian, and Grand Elder Redclaw.

That's when Ashlock realized Larry's domain of ash was gone, and his sect members had returned to the land of the living from being ashen statutes.

"Where's Larry?" Ashlock asked the group.

"Oh, you're back," Stella said, looking into the sky, "I thought you went to take a nap—as for Larry, he went to feast on the Beast Tide to restore his strength. Poor guy was looking quite beat up after everything."

"That's understandable. Larry did an amazing job. As did everyone else here..." Ashlock sighed, "I really don't know what I would do without you guys."

"And we wouldn't know what to do without you," Elysia pointed out, and everyone nodded in agreement.

"Thank you," Ashlock said with sincerity. "You have all worked hard." He didn't know what else to say, but he felt warm inside. That standoff with that entity had thrown him off and briefly made him set his sights far too high.

What mattered was the here and now—his family, friends, and sect members all happily residing in a little corner of the ninth layer of creation they had carved out for themselves and called home. While he would usurp the heavens one day, there were many challenges to overcome first.

The most pressing issue was the imminent Beast Tide, which contained Monarch Realm beasts threatening to tear everything he had built away from him.

Before he got a chance to address his members and tell them the plan moving forward, he was interrupted by a welcomed system message.

[Immense influx of divine energy detected. It is advised you spend your credits to not reach the sacrificial credit limit]

Ashlock was reminded about the funeral's original purpose: to farm a shit load of sacrificial credits. It had been a few hours since the funeral started, and with the battle over and millions of mortals still praying to him, the returns were likely substantial.

What he wasn't prepared for was how much substantial actually entailed.

"System, how many credits do I have?"