Jumanji gazed intently at the violet leech resting upon his palm, his mind conjuring folded pages from the history of spiritual cultivators.
"The Weight Sect..." he murmured in a low voice. "One of the eras-old sects that many believed had perished with the dawn of the ancient ages."
Rarity was the defining trait of this path. Cultivators who followed this sect in the past were the few among the few; finding a leech compatible with the Weight Sect had become near impossible.
No one knew for certain what such creatures looked like or the extent of their capabilities, making the Weight Sect a derelict mystery that only a handful dared to enter—perhaps ten people in the entire world, or even fewer.
Jumanji recalled the memory of that legendary pioneer who blazed his trail with this sect alongside the Spear Sect. Gaia Dori was a restless hurricane, combining the sharpness of a blade with the weight of mountains.
However, when he reached the absolute summit, he faced the ultimate dilemma: he had to choose. Either the spear or the weight.
Ultimately, Gaia Dori leaned toward the Spear Sect as his primary path, relegating the Weight Sect to a lateral force supporting his strikes. Nevertheless, no one in his time could stand against him or obstruct his way.
His unique blend was enough to place him atop the world, terrifying his opponents with unbearable weight and unstoppable thrusts.
Now, Jumanji stood before that same legendary sect. Despite the lethal rarity of a leech compatible with this path, the immense power latent within it was worth every risk.
For Jumanji, treading this path was not merely a choice but an absolute necessity to gain the strength that would enable him to carve his rocky way through this cruel world.
This leech might be rare and impossible for many, but Jumanji—with experience transcending ages—knew of hideouts and secrets containing treasures related to this sect that no man had ever stepped upon.
Jumanji raised his hand, and the violet leech rose into the air, hovering slowly while radiating a faint, mysterious light.
Suddenly, the creature surged with lightning speed toward the peak of the Red Mountain. In that instant, the entire world of the farm shook under the brunt of an immense energy.
The giant tree resting upon the summit lit up with a brilliant glow, its branches moving like the limbs of a living being.
The spiritual branches coiled tightly around the violet leech, and in a harmonious, sacred motion, the tree expelled the "Temporary Fetus" within it, letting the Night Dusk Leech take its place at the heart of its essence.
The replacement process was complete. Now, the entire farm pulsed with a new frequency—a frequency thick with the scent of weight and sovereignty.
Jumanji smiled faintly as he sensed the majestic heaviness beginning to flow through the farm's air. He muttered confidently:
"Very well... now is the time for the true transformation. Time to develop this farm to be worthy of its new fetus."
With a swift gesture and startling speed, Jumanji summoned the large wooden crates provided to him by the tribe for preparation.
Those crates held various resources within them, but to someone like him, they were nothing more than raw materials in need of "refining."
Jumanji paused, contemplating the horizon, and began calculating the complex development equation in his mind.
To advance the quality of the Spiritual Farm and transition it to a level of sovereignty, the matter was not limited to piling up treasures; it required a precise balance between three essential elements:
First, the "Seed Essence": he required numerous spiritual stones to bolster the spiritual energy within the farm.
Second, the "Fetus Nourishment": providing energy resources compatible with the violet nature of the Night Dusk Leech to ensure its stable fusion with the Mother Tree.
Finally, the "Formation Construction": complex spiritual arrays that trap energy within the farm's boundaries and prevent leakage.
This specific array was a rare treasure that Mahinour had seized in the past-future, stealing it from the depths of one of the great sects in the Middle Continent in a daring operation that left an indelible mark.
Jumanji opened the first crate, and a cold silver aura emanated from it. He began sorting the materials with a glacial, merciless coldness.
The first resources were ten "Amphibian Insect Leeches" of the Ninth Rank—slimy, silver creatures lacking clear features, writhing like disgusting worms that would incite nausea in anyone who saw them.
Yet, in Jumanji's eyes, they were nothing but high-purity raw materials.
As for the second resource, it was the most terrifying: ten complete human skeletons.
Astonishment and confusion had gripped the tribesmen when Jumanji requested these from their graveyards, but he left them no choice.
They opened the graves of their ancestors and brought forth bones whose only sin was that they would be melted in the crucible of his ambition.
The current quality of the farm was merely a "primitive vessel" of poor quality, lacking the necessary density.
Now, with the Seventh-Rank Night Dusk Leech as its beating heart, it was time to transform this vessel into a stable, medium-quality "Spiritual Fortress."
Jumanji was not merely seeking to build a field for cultivation; he was constructing a majestic training arena.
A land whose density would increase until it became capable of withstanding the "Absolute Weight" with which he would crush his enemies in the future, turning their bones to dust under the pressure of his own kingdom's gravity.
With total coldness, Jumanji began drawing the first lines of the stolen array, utilizing the silver energy of the amphibian leeches and linking them to the skeletons that would serve as "Spiritual Stakes" to anchor the farm's corners against the coming pressure.
"Alright... let us begin."
With a calm voice carrying the weight of mountains, Jumanji distributed the skeletons across the corners of the farm while the silver leeches pulsed like a living heart, pumping life into these dead frames.
At that moment, a transparent silver mist began to rise from the crevices of the bones, as if they had awakened from their slumber to transform into shining metallic stakes under the influence of the viscous silver leech energy.
Suddenly, and without warning, an overwhelming silver aura exploded, covering the farm entirely until Jumanji was submerged in a sea of thick mist that obscured vision and weighed down the breath.
Jumanji raised his hand amidst this charged silence and shouted commandingly: "Release now!"
With those words, the spiritual fetus at the mountain peak shook violently, and a giant vortex formed in the heart of the silver mist.
The vortex spun with frantic speed, but instead of expanding, it began to shrink and contract with an eerie slowness, as if an invisible force were crushing it from within.
Jumanji watched the scene with hawk-like eyes, waiting for the decisive moment, until the vortex fully condensed into a small "Silver Pearl"—tiny, yet compressed to the highest degree of density, radiating a cold light that suggested absolute solidity.
When Jumanji saw the pearl's perfect luster, he cried out again in ecstasy: "Come!"
In the blink of an eye, a massive branch surged from the tree atop the Red Mountain, piercing the mist like a celestial spear.
It coiled tightly around the silver pearl and dragged it forcefully toward the "Fetus" residing within the tree's hollow, beginning the farm's development process.
Beads of sweat were pouring from Jumanji's face with unprecedented intensity as he watched the thick red mist beginning to vent from the heart of the tree.
The spiritual pressure resulting from the fusion process far exceeded his current body's capacity to endure.
In those critical moments, Jumanji's black eyes began to sink into a profound darkness, and he could no longer resist the weight of this spiritual energy.
Time did not permit him to witness the final fruit of his labor; his exhausted body betrayed him, and he plummeted into the darkness of unconsciousness, falling fainted amidst the energy vortex.
As his consciousness faded completely, a muffled explosion occurred within the farm—a colossal flash flooded the horizon until nothing could be seen within, as if the place were reshaping itself from nothingness.
Time passed heavily until Jumanji's eyelids began to move slowly.
He woke to find his body and face covered in a thin layer of light brown dust. He sat up with difficulty, his gaze roaming the area in awe; the landscape of the farm had changed completely.
"Medium quality..." Jumanji whispered, observing the soil's color, which had turned into a light brown saturated with energy.
He leaned down to pick up a handful of earth, scrutinizing its particles and inhaling its pungent spiritual fragrance.
Then he stood to observe the radical changes; the air was no longer as it was. The spiritual energy had become denser and more viscous, pressing against the pores with quiet force.
As for the area, the boundaries of the Spiritual Farm had expanded from four square kilometers to reach six kilometers of fertile, majestic land.
Jumanji brushed the dust off his clothes as he felt a sense of satisfaction; at this stage, these results were more than he aspired to.
Though he possessed the knowledge to raise the quality to a higher level, he realized with his wisdom that this "Impenetrable Fortress" and medium-quality farm needed a full year of spiritual stability before any new development.
He had laid the foundation stone of his own kingdom, and now... there was no more room for waiting.
With firm features and eyes flashing with sparks, Jumanji realized that the quiet foundational phase had ended, and the time for hard labor and accelerated ascension had begun.
The farm was now a massive spiritual "engine" waiting for its tamer, and Jumanji would carve his way with a diligence that knows no fatigue, surpassing th
e limits of time and logic, ascending with frantic speed toward the summit that befits only a shepherd like him.
End of Chapter