Chapter 286: The Key To The Realm

I sent her a command mentally, sharp and clear. She accepted it without hesitation.

With a slow wave of her hand, the crimson mist around her surged forward like a tide. It crawled across the stone and wrapped around a small plant near the edge of the pool. In seconds, the plant began to tremble and grow.

It stretched upward—four feet, then eight—its branches thickening, leaves unfurling in waves of green and crimson until it transformed into a towering tree. The roots cracked the stone slightly as they dug deep and fast.

I stared at the result, both impressed and slightly awed.

“Man, I love how insane your comprehension is.”

I stepped closer, placing a palm against the tree’s bark. It was warm, pulsing faintly with life.

“Verdant Extraction.”

A green glow spread across the tree’s trunk, and I immediately felt it—pure, vibrant life force flowing into my hand. It coursed through the engraved channels within my body, spreading like warm light.

And without needing to command it, the energy began infusing into my limbs, muscles, and bones, naturally distributing itself wherever I needed it most.

I took a deep breath and stepped back.

The tree now looked a little weathered—its color faded, branches slightly drooping.

“Not bad,” I murmured, glancing between it and Lyrate. “I could get used to this.”

Verdant Extraction felt like another step in my path to becoming an unstoppable machine.

I stretched slightly, still feeling the subtle warmth of life force dancing through my veins.

“All right, Lyrate,” I said, turning toward her. “It’s time for you to rest. I’ll introduce you to Silver later, and we’ll explore what you can really do.”

I raised my hand and gave the command.

Her body broke down into swirling crimson mist, and the mist rushed back into my chest—into the generator core—like it had never left.

I took a deep breath.

“Azalea.”

I blinked—and she was suddenly there, standing in front of me, smiling gently, her serpentine grace as effortless as ever.

Her voice was warm and teasing.

“You know I saw everything, right? Every single thing you just did.”

I nodded without hesitation. “Yeah. I know.”

She tilted her head slightly, studying me.

“And you’re not afraid I’ll tell someone? Reveal your secrets?”

A smirk tugged at the edge of my lips. “Strangely… I’m not.”

I thought back over everything—especially the memories I’d absorbed from Lyrate. Watching her life play out, seeing how strong she had been, how fearlessly she’d pushed forward through loss, love, and war… it did something to me.

It gave me perspective.

Lyrate at my age was already a force of nature. And yet, compared to her… I was a monster.

And if I was right—if someone like Azalea could see my potential—then she wouldn’t want to make an enemy out of me. Not now. Maybe not ever.

She folded her arms. “Well, if you say so. But whatever that ability is—whatever you’ve done with that heart of yours—it’s either going to take you farther than anyone has ever gone…”

She paused, her eyes narrowing.

“Or it’ll get you killed way too soon.”

I shrugged, lighthearted.

“Time will tell.”

She smiled faintly and waved her hand.

And just like that, I was no longer by the pool—I was back in the giant bedroom. The massive space, the elegant bed, the endless sea of portraits.

Azalea floated ahead of me toward one of the portraits on the far wall.

“This was my first competition win,” she said, a touch of pride in her voice. “I dominated everyone.”

I looked at the portrait. A young Azalea stood at the center of a group of young Nagas. She was beaming—glowing with joy—and even though the others smiled too, none of them shone like she did.

She glanced over her shoulder.

“Being the strongest in a galaxy’s dominant race isn’t just pride. It’s survival. You have to fight off threats from the outside and from within. That’s why strength is worshipped in my society.”

I nodded slowly. It made sense. In a place like this, weakness wasn’t just dangerous—it was a death sentence.

She floated to another painting, and I followed.

This one showed a battlefield—huge, chaotic, overwhelming. Three massive serpents clashed with two golden-cloaked figures in the middle of a storm of energy and blood.

“Battle of Planet Perci,” she said. “One of our greatest victories. We crushed an army led by two Eternal Grandmasters while the Matriarch was away. Perci was a newborn planet—raw and rich in resources. Everyone wanted it. We took it.”

The scale was staggering. Thousands of Nagas, Abominations, Phantoms, and even Eternals swarmed across the landscape. The canvas practically pulsed with tension and glory.

She showed me more—battles, rituals, festivals, her childhood. Scenes of her family, her mentors, her homeworld. Moments of stillness and moments of chaos. It was like walking through a living memory of Naga history.

Eventually, we stopped in front of a much simpler painting.

It showed a large blue-scaled serpent, coiled in the middle of a vast flower field, gazing out toward the edge of the frame. There was something quiet and sorrowful about it.

Azalea hovered in front of the portrait, her expression unreadable.

Then, slowly, two narrow green beams of light shot from Azalea’s eyes, locking onto the serpent’s gaze inside the painting.

The moment the light touched the portrait, the canvas shimmered—and a circular portal floated out in front of it, rippling with soft blue energy.

Azalea turned her head toward me. “Let’s go.”

Without waiting for a response, she floated into the portal.

I followed her in.

The world shifted, and in the next instant, we were inside a small, dimly lit room.

The walls and floor were made of smooth, grayish stone that felt ancient and quiet. In the center of the room, right above a short stone platform, floated a glowing blue orb. Inside it, wisps of white smoke swirled like drifting clouds trapped in a jar.

Azalea floated closer to it and spoke.

“To create a realm—even a small one like this—you need someone at the Saint level. I got this realm by sheer luck.”

She paused, then added, “A powerful Naga Saint from the Prime Galaxy came to meet our Matriarch. There was a competition held for younger generations. I won. And as a reward, I was given this realm.”

I stepped beside the orb, letting my perception sweep across it. Gentle ripples of spatial fluctuation pulsed outward from it at regular intervals—like a slow, steady heartbeat.

Azalea pointed at the orb.

“This is the realm core. With it, you can control the entire realm.

You can shift the realm’s position in space, shrink it down to a much smaller size, though you can’t expand it—this is its max limit for now. You can reshape parts of the landscape, though not all. And more importantly, you can open the realm for other people using a permanent portal.”

She let her hand fall and continued in a softer voice.

“This is also the reason the Ferans—and even the human Grandmaster overseeing this realm—haven’t gone to full war against the Deathmist yet.”

I frowned. “Because of this core?”

She nodded. “Yes. The realm core was linked to fragments of my soul. The phantom fragments—one in the island, the other in the mountain range—had both consumed a part of me. And through that, they were able to tap into some of the core’s abilities. From the outside, it looked like the Phantoms were controlling the entire realm.

So no one dared to provoke them fully.”

“Oh…” I blinked, the pieces finally clicking together.

That explained why the Ferans weren’t launching a full assault on the Deathmist. They were cautious. They thought the Phantoms had dominion over the realm itself.

It all made sense now.

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