Slime True Immortal

The idea was excellent, but once he tried to put it into practice, Chen Yu ran into a problem.

The World Tree was originally illusory; it didn’t even have a real seed. How could it be planted?

He crouched by the giant tree’s roots and stared at the phantom image of the World Tree quietly floating inside his gel for a long while.

A thought suddenly popped into his mind.

What if he planted himself inside it?

Logically, the alchemical bottle and the World Tree were one and the same.

The illusory World Tree existed by being isolated from reality through the alchemical bottle, and the alchemical bottle relied on the World Tree for its sanctity.

His body and that World Tree were now in the same relationship: his body was both bottle and the tree’s container.

Planting himself would be equivalent to planting the World Tree in the bottle.

Whether it would germinate remained to be tested.

He concentrated, the gel trembling slightly as it split off a small slime.

The little slime fell to the ground, bounced twice, then blinked its small eyes.

It looked down at its body, then up at the dead giant tree’s root, and seemed to confirm its mission.

It straightened its tiny belly resolutely and hopped toward the giant root with a plop.

The tree root sensed its arrival, the rough bark automatically splitting open to reveal a hollow just large enough for the little slime to pass through.

“For the Empire!” the little slime cried, pausing at the hollow’s mouth, raising its gel hand high, then leaping inside.

Chen Yu crouched outside and waited quietly. For a long time he felt no movement from within.

From the little avatar’s perspective it was pitch black inside, and the giant tree showed no sign of providing any nutrients.

It seemed his method of opening it had been wrong.

But that was no problem for Chen Yu.

He shifted his intent, and the little avatar trembled slightly.

The originally round gel body began to change, its color deepening from pale green, with dense root hairs forming at the base while the top stretched out the outline of tender branches.

Inside the tree hollow it mimicked the shape of a World Tree.

The instant the transformation occurred, the dead giant tree erupted with surging vitality.

The giant tree actively drew the avatar’s roots deeper, channeling nutrients upward along the newborn vascular paths.

Chen Yu could feel irreversible changes taking place within that little avatar.

Like a true seed nurtured by the giant tree, it reverted to an embryonic state; every slime structure dissolved and reassembled according to arboreal growth logic.

The roots sank deeper and deeper, piercing through the dead tree’s root network and extending into the void beyond the Dreaming Grassland.

The shoot tip pushed open the soil, unfurling two tender cotyledons.

Although the seedling was still him, the little avatar could no longer revert to being a slime or return to his main body; it had become another one of his bodies.

He could sense the seedling’s roots extending underground, could feel the direction of every nutrient flow, just as naturally as he sensed his gel.

But when he tried to shrink the seedling back into slime form, the leaves only fluttered slightly with no other response.

This slime had become a real tree.

Chen Yu did not know what to call this seedling.

It was not the World Tree itself, only the container that sealed the World Tree had grown into a sapling.

The World Tree phantom still floated quietly within the gel, showing no sign of sprouting new buds.

Yet the phantom had indeed gained certain connections to the real world because of it.

He could clearly sense the World Tree phantom had become more stable than before; the previously vague halo had grown distinct and could even take root and grow inside his gel demiplane.

Does that mean he could now use the World Tree’s creation authority within the gel demiplane?

Chen Yu peered into the gel and confirmed it.

He tried to condense a stone in the demiplane, and a piece of granite appeared on the demiplane ground out of thin air.

He tried again; this time a short length of verdant vine broke through the demiplane ground, climbed along a prearranged trellis, and unfurled tender leaves.

He could even accelerate the vine’s growth, making it complete the cycle from sprout to bloom in seconds.

But any material that left the gel demiplane would instantly dissolve into an illusion and disappear.

Even so, the effect of the World Tree authority was self-evident.

He could wholly transform his gel demiplane into a sacred cultivation ground.

He could accelerate everything’s growth inside, condense spiritual energy, and provide the Empire’s extraordinary professionals with an ideal training environment.

As long as they stayed within the demiplane, these effects were real.

What did this mean for the Empire?

It meant the birth of a Slime Extraordinary Corps would no longer be a long-awaited, distant plan.

He could mass-produce potential Slime Knights, Stone Descendant Assassins, and Elf Mages in the demiplane, letting them grow rapidly in the accelerated environment.

The benefits of the World Tree authority reached far beyond this; even gel projection would be affected, causing changes in the projected demiplane.

This was huge.

Chen Yu smiled in satisfaction at the seedling avatar.

The sapling had only two small leaves and a stem scarcely longer than a finger, swaying faintly in the Dreaming Grassland breeze, fragile-looking as if a gust could break it.

But its rooting depth far exceeded its aboveground height. Its roots threaded through the dead tree’s root network, extracting remaining nutrients from those half-god carcasses.

What a stroke of luck: he now had an avatar with a growth ceiling at the half-god level, and it could even utilize a bit of the World Tree’s authority.

If a tree looks like the World Tree on the outside and is the World Tree on the inside, then it is truly the World Tree.

Rounded up, his slime main body was practically a World Tree too.

Pleasant indeed.

Although the authority was still hard to exert on reality, at least in the gel demiplane the plane answered to him.

He decided the matter: this sapling avatar would henceforth be the World Tree.

He popped up, glanced over at Sophie who was tensely watching from afar.

She had her eight legs folded by her sides, her compound eyes unblinking as they stared at the sapling’s direction, as if making sure the new little thing wouldn’t be blown over by the wind.

Chen Yu said, “The Tree King didn’t die; she merely fell asleep. I’ll resurrect her when the chance comes.”

“And watch over this sapling. From now on you’re with me and the Empire, understand?”

Sophie’s compound eyes flashed and she nodded vigorously, “Yes yes! Following His Majesty, I will never let any creature come within a step of the seedling!”

Chen Yu was pleased with his newly recruited legendary underling.

He concentrated again; the gel trembled slightly as it split off another small avatar.

This avatar landed, bounced twice, and steadied itself. Its small eyes sized Sophie up, seemingly evaluating the spider’s aptitude.

He made up his mind: this little avatar would stay here as a teacher, using Qian Yuan Spirit Nurturing Art to feed Sophie spiritual nourishment, helping her become an immortal fiend sooner.

Creatures that could grow into legendary beings through sheer growth were seen by Xu Xuan Heaven cultivators as prodigies; it would be a pity not to nurture them.

By the way, Count Bran’s monster squad also needed such avatar teachers.

He had plenty of avatars now; splitting off one or two to be teachers cost him nothing. The real business was raising Little Ka, Peachy, and the others into legendaries as soon as possible.

Once the Empire produced a second legendary, it would again attract the gods’ attention. He needed more legendaries to solidify the Empire’s position against possible future challenges from hostile divine followers.

After bidding Sophie farewell, Chen Yu left the Dreaming Grassland and returned to the familiar silver void.

Oros hovered anxiously around the dreamscape. Seeing Chen Yu emerge, he visibly exhaled, quickly assumed human form, and descended to him.

“Well? The tree didn’t give you trouble, did it?”

Chen Yu looked odd.

Trouble it hadn’t, but it had handed him a big gift.

He didn’t tell Oros about the newly grown sapling avatar; instead he said he had some connection with the Tree King and that the Empire could establish a port in this star region under the Tree King’s protection.

Oros nodded in agreement after hearing this. “This is indeed a good place to establish a lair. With a half-god’s protection, almost no strange creature would randomly barge in and cause trouble.”

“And this star region is close to several major astral routes, so transportation and material shipment would be convenient.”

Chen Yu agreed. “That’s what I thought. When we return, I’ll issue a pioneering edict to call citizens to enter the Astral Realm to develop and build a port.”

“Although I haven’t decided where the physical port will be built yet.”

Oros considered for a moment, then said, “I suggest building it inside the dreamscape. Although these dreamscapes floating in the Astral Realm are illusory, they can contain real things that live and grow within them.”

“You can shape the dreamscape to match your memories, making it visually and psychologically easier for new pioneers who have never left the Material Plane to adapt.”

“Also, by hiding the port within the dream, you only need a few outposts on the periphery to effectively guard against most malicious astral creatures’ infiltration.”

Chen Yu thought it over and agreed.

Oros was a senior figure of the Astral Realm with far more experience traveling the void than Chen Yu.

If he recommended it, the dream-port scheme was likely the safest option for now.

Oros looked toward the nebula wrapping the Dreaming Grassland and asked, “Since you’ve decided to build a port here, have you thought of a name?”

Chen Yu looked in the same direction and considered.

“Call it Farvoyage Port. May the Empire set sail from here and voyage far.”

......

Develop the Astral Realm?

Once the pioneering edict was issued, the earth-shaking news quickly spread through the Empire via the gel network.

From the Slime City Palace to Winterhold, from the farmers’ markets of the Golden Tassel Plain to adventurer camps in the Dark Realm, almost everyone discussed it.

Oros was surprised that Chen Yu placed no racial restrictions on applicants.

Any Empire citizen, whether magical creature, human, dwarf, or elf, could sign up if they met the conditions.

After passing selection, they could become the first wave of Astral pioneers.

When the news broke, an unimaginable frenzy took hold in the Empire.

Winterhold Adventurers’ Guild.

The guild’s doors, once opened in the morning, never closed; loud noise poured out like a tavern.

The hall was packed with people, the queue at the counter snaked out the door, and even in the biting cold outside, adventurers still persisted in lining up.

A few adventurers had just returned from a task and, seeing the scene, suspected something serious had happened.

After asking around, they learned everyone here was signing up to pioneer the Astral Realm.

Although few truly understood what the Astral Realm was or what dangers awaited, their experience told them that any edict from the Empire hid unimaginable opportunities.

A Lizardfolk hunter stood in the queue when a Dwarf warrior squeezed up beside him. “Aren’t you lizardfolk supposed to hate the cold? I heard it’s even colder out there than Winterhold. You’re signing up too?”

The Lizardfolk hunter glared. “The recruitment notice said the Astral Realm has no temperature, neither cold nor hot. If you don’t even get that, why sign up?”

The Dwarf scratched his head awkwardly, then defended himself proudly: “Whatever, I’m going to be one of the pioneers. I want to bring honor to the dwarves. When history records the first dwarves to step into the Astral Realm, my name will be at the front.”

A hoarse voice from the back chimed in: “Get real, Zeke. With your sense of direction you’d get lost even in the mine tunnels under Darkness City. Out there you’d be the one chased by prey.”

The Dwarf turned red and shouted back at the voice, provoking a burst of laughter through the hall.

Darkness City Tavern.

Business was better than usual today.

The bar was full, noisy chatter mingling with the clink of cups under the low ceiling.

A merchant from the south sat in a corner holding a mug of ale, listening perplexedly to the local adventurers heatedly discussing the pioneering edict.

He set down his mug and asked a nearby mercenary: “Back in the south I heard the mages of Dawn City talking about exploring the Astral Realm. I thought they’d been preparing for years.”

“Is the Empire really ready to explore now? Isn’t this... too fast?”

The mercenary glanced at him as if to say, “You don’t get it.”

“That was then. The Empire changes as much in one year as it used to in ten.”

The merchant still hesitated, shaking his head. “But I heard the Astral Realm is dangerous. Many mages have died there in recent years. Aren’t you afraid?”

The tavern fell briefly silent, then erupted in louder laughter.

“Dangerous? What danger could threaten His Majesty?”

“With His Majesty guarding things, what have you to fear?”

The merchant still shook his head, feeling these adventurers and mercenaries were blinded by money and beyond his reach.

He drained the ale, paid, and left.

Outside the wind and snow hit him hard. He stood for a moment, tightened his coat, and hurried toward the post station.

Leaf of No Distinction collective in the Southern Kingdoms.

Natalis burst through the door, clutching a letter fetched from the post station. She slammed the door with her foot and shouted excitedly, “Orion, Salemir, a letter from the Empire! They’re recruiting personnel to pioneer the Astral Realm—looks like the star chart we sent earlier did help.”

“Tonight at the merchants’ guild meeting, don’t reveal our intentions. Say we’re only here to gather donations...”

Salemir, who had been speaking with the two half-elves, paused when he heard her.

“Pioneer the Astral Realm?”

He took the letter from Natalis, skimmed it quickly, his gaze lingering on the line that said ‘no racial restrictions,’ then handed it to the two half-elves beside him.

The two half-elves huddled and whispered, their expressions showing clear interest.

Salemir turned to Orion, who sat behind the counter with a quill still moving across parchment. “Orion, should we send someone? This could be a good chance to vindicate the half-elves.”

“If other races can participate, so can we.”

Orion, still drafting a report for the Empire, finally looked up.

“The problem is we’re short on people. Several half-elf communities in the valley need regular medicine and supplies. There aren’t many free hands...”

As he spoke he unconsciously looked at Natalis.

Salemir followed his glance, thoughtful.

Natalis, who had been feeling the new cushion on the collective’s sofa, suddenly became alert when she noticed their looks.

“You’re not thinking of sending me, are you?”

“Just so you know, we’re not yet Empire citizens.”

Salemir shook his head lightly. “It’s not about citizenship. Even if we’re not registered, I think His Majesty would be pleased to accept our application.”

“As for a candidate, there’s no one more suitable than you here.”

At first Natalis felt proud, then realized the two might simply think she had nothing better to do.

Salemir continued, “That star region is the one the Council documented on the star chart. At least it’s been surveyed, and safety should be more assured. If you’re still worried, we can write to the Grand Sage to inquire.”

“Natalis, imagine if you were truly among the first pioneers to step into that starry expanse—you would be the first half-elf in Zeyarila’s history to enter the Astral Realm.”

Natalis reconsidered; it did sound impressive.

Being one of the first half-elf pioneers to step into the Astral Realm would be a title that sounded formidable.

She folded her hands over her knees and thought seriously, then looked up.

“All right. You two write to the Grand Sage and ask about the situation. I’ll decide afterwards whether to sign up.”