Orphaned Remaining Leaves

Luo Yang stood beneath the golden tree's leaves. There was no sun in the Sea of Consciousness, so the tree offered no shade. Yet, the fine golden light scattered from its leaves was so dazzling it drew him a few steps forward.

The canopy had expanded by a full circle compared to before, and the light flowing between its branches and leaves had turned a pure gold, so bright it was almost blinding. Every leaf looked polished, their surface patterns so clear one could trace the path of each vein.

The tree's branches and leaves swayed gently. Each branch moved at a different frequency, yet they formed a peculiar rhythm, as if expressing something.

Luo Yang stared at the branches and leaves for a moment, then suddenly felt as if he understood.

It was happy.

This tree, which had taken root in his Sea of Consciousness the day he broke through, hadn't spoken a single word to him from beginning to end, nor had it given any clear signals. It had simply stayed there quietly, helping him filter blood energy, mend his body, and sustain him for a few extra breaths when he was overexerting himself.

But at this moment, it was using every movement it could to tell him: “I’m very happy.”

Luo Yang chuckled, his voice largely swallowed by the vast Sea of Consciousness, leaving only a faint tremor echoing in the boundless space.

“Why are you happy?”

The branches and leaves swayed even more joyfully, with a few leaves even flipping over at the edge of his vision.

Luo Yang looked down and saw several roots glowing with dazzling golden light detaching from the base of the trunk. They emerged from beneath the surface of the Sea of Consciousness, carrying tiny water droplets, slowly wriggling like a group of snakes awakened by their master.

The roots extended toward him, skimming the water's surface, not moving quickly. Luo Yang neither dodged nor moved, simply watching as the golden roots approached inch by inch.

They passed over his feet, wrapped around his ankles, and continued climbing upward. They ascended his legs, then coiled around his arms and wrists, finally heading toward his right hand.

More specifically, they headed for the middle finger of his right hand.

The moment the golden roots coiled around his finger, Luo Yang felt a warmth spread from the base of his finger. The roots circled his middle finger repeatedly; at first, they were loose, thread-like strands, but after three rotations, they became ribbon-shaped, and after five, they formed a solid ring.

After seven rotations, the light contracted, and the golden streams rapidly converged toward the center. All the brightness condensed to its extreme in less than a fraction of a second, exploding into a dazzling burst of light.

When the light dispersed, a ring appeared on Luo Yang’s right middle finger.

To his eyes, the ring was brilliant gold, barely half a centimeter wide, with a comfortable, warm, and smooth texture rather than a polished surface. It was as if liquid gold had been frozen just as it was about to solidify, neither sharp nor soft.

Luo Yang raised his hand and brought it closer for a look.

The golden ring reflected no light in the soft glow of the Sea of Consciousness, but it emitted its own light, identical to the shimmering light that flowed between the tree’s branches and leaves.

He stared at the ring for two seconds, then looked up at the tree.

The tree was still swaying, and two leaves even detached from its branches, slowly spiraling through the air before landing on the water, creating two small golden ripples.

“For me?” Luo Yang asked softly.

There was still no answer, but the glittering golden branches and leaves swayed even more vigorously.

Luo Yang lowered his head again to look at the ring.

It was on his right middle finger.

This was the same spot where he originally wore his space ring in the real world.

Inside the operating room.

The shadowless lamp above the operating table had been turned off, replaced by soft side lights. Three healing-type Punishers stood by the operating table. They had recovered from their state of complete bewilderment and were now collecting data from Luo Yang’s body using various detection methods.

The wound repair was still ongoing.

The golden-glowing liquid now covered all his wounds. The film it formed had begun to harden, its edges retracting into his flesh little by little, seemingly filling the depths of the wounds with new tissue.

The oldest female healer carefully withdrew her fingers from Luo Yang’s pulse point, then frowned as she glanced at the monitor beside them.

“Heart rate fifty-two, blood pressure ninety-six over sixty-one. It’s on the lower end of normal, but it hasn’t changed at all since a moment ago.”

She looked at the wound again.

“Several bones in his left ribs are now perfectly aligned.”

“That golden… blood? Whatever it is, it seems to have glued all the broken ends together in the correct way.”

The youngest healer next to her draped a surgical towel over Luo Yang’s calf, muttering, “In all my years of practicing medicine, I’ve never seen a patient with built-in welding capabilities.”

“No one has ever seen anything like this!”

The female healer ignored the conversation between the other two, her attention drawn to a new development.

Luo Yang’s right middle finger.

She stared at his hand for several seconds before confirming she wasn’t imagining things.

The space ring on that finger was changing.

She had glimpsed it when she pushed Luo Yang into the operating room; back then, the ring was an ordinary bright iron color, completely metallic, with a very industrial design, no decorations, and so understated it looked like something bought from a hardware store.

But at this very moment, the surface of that ring was glowing.

It wasn’t reflecting the operating lights; the side lights weren’t even aimed at his hand.

The ring itself was emitting light from within.

The light was faint, a warm golden glow seeping from the ring’s surface, unevenly distributed across the metal. It spread from several specific points, like ink dissolving in water, extending along invisible patterns.

The three healers simultaneously took half a step back.

The golden light flowed across the ring’s surface for less than ten seconds, then began to solidify.

The flowing light contracted and solidified, transforming into several extremely fine threads that snaked along the ring’s curved surface, intertwining and separating, gradually forming a pattern.

It was like the pattern of a leaf vein.

First to appear was the structure of the leaf veins: a main vein extending from the bottom to the top of the ring, with finer lateral veins branching off on both sides, and even more delicate net-like structures connecting the lateral veins.

Then came the outline of the leaf.

Lines curved back from the ends of the veins, sketching the shape of a complete leaf. The leaf’s edge was irregularly curved, with serrated undulations, each rise and fall perfectly placed.

Golden patterns spread from one side of the ring to the other, with similar but not identical leaves growing in different positions. They didn’t overlap or crowd each other, distributed across the ring’s surface like soldiers at their posts.

When the last of the light faded, the originally bright iron-colored metal surface gained a gilded base color. Neither too dark nor too light, it perfectly elevated the previously simple industrial aesthetic by a notch.

A total of nine leaves were etched onto this ring. One of them had several sharp lines added inside its shape, making it distinctly different from the other eight. The nine golden leaves were quietly embedded within the gilded layer, their patterns so intricate they looked as if carved stroke by stroke with a micro-engraving knife. Their presence was subtle, not dazzling, but certainly not to be overlooked.

From a distance, it looked like a limited edition men’s ring from some brand, possessing a certain noble flair without being ostentatious.

The female healer turned to look at her colleague beside her, both wearing expressions that said, “Should I write this in the report or pretend I didn’t see it?”

In the Sea of Consciousness, the golden tree’s branches and leaves all froze at the same moment.

All the leaves completely stilled. A total of nine fallen leaves floated in mid-air, frozen at the angle they were lifted, orbiting Luo Yang like planets around a star, tracing golden light trails around him.

Immediately, a surge of information flooded Luo Yang’s consciousness. There was no sound, no text, and no images.

It was a form of knowledge that didn’t need to be learned, remembered, or understood; it simply appeared in his consciousness as an established fact.

Luo Yang knew what the nine leaves were called.

“Orphaned Remaining Leaves”.

As the name appeared in his mind, all the necessary information about it also flooded in.

This golden tree originated from a dynasty that no longer existed.

It was a dynasty from an ultra-ancient period, so old that its name wasn't recorded in any existing historical materials. It once possessed a glorious civilization, a powerful army, and a thriving populace. And this great tree was the totem of that dynasty.

It coexisted with that dynasty, taking root from the very first day of its establishment, and falling into slumber along with it at the final moment of its downfall.

As for how long it had been dormant, Luo Yang couldn’t discern a specific number.

Whenever a new Heavenly Mandate Priest was born in that dynasty, the divine tree would bestow a golden leaf upon them.

One, and only one.

Each leaf symbolized one of the divine tree’s authorities.

The priests had different specializations: some presided over sacrifices, some over healing, and others over warfare. Each priest could only hold one leaf and master one authority throughout their life.

From the dynasty’s birth to its downfall, no one had ever possessed more than two at the same time.

But today, this tree had given all nine leaves to him.

Luo Yang stared at the self-rotating golden leaves. Each spun at a different speed; some faster, some slower. Occasionally, two would pass each other, generating a tiny, faint spark of light in the air.

The information continued to pour in.

These leaves could normally be used as weapons. When controlled by Weapon’s End, Ember’s Birth, they had no time limit for manipulation.

In other words, their control time was infinite. They wouldn’t suffer any wear and tear from being controlled, and even if subjected to the full output of Weapon’s End, Ember’s Birth, they wouldn’t be damaged.

Even more surprising to Luo Yang was that each leaf contained different powers of authority.

However, immediately following this information was a chilling addendum.

Since the dynasty’s demise, the divine tree had fallen into slumber, and its power had severely degenerated. Furthermore, due to Luo Yang’s current limited rank, only one of the nine leaves had its authority unlocked. The other eight were temporarily mere physical presences, their authorities still sealed.

To unlock more, he needed to do two things: first, become stronger, and second, continuously nurture the tree.

He would need to “water” it with blood energy and combat experience in his future cultivation, allowing it to gradually awaken from its slumber.