Devor’s unease grew stronger, his expression tightening with resolve. His pace quickened as he made his way toward the Spiritual Field, drawn by an unusual disturbance he couldn’t shake.

  It was a subtle sign, perhaps even a false alarm, but Devor’s instincts—sharpened by years of tending to Spiritual Plants—refused to let him ignore it.

  Before long, he reached the field under his care. His keen eyes swept over the rows of plants, scanning with practiced precision. His brow furrowed, a deep concern settling in.

  He took a deep breath, letting the fresh air and the Qi from the plants flow into his lungs. But something was off. The usual harmony that filled the field felt... disrupted.

  And then he saw it—a single Spiritual Plant, its leaves gray and brittle, stark against the lush green surrounding it.

  “What the...?” Devor's breath hitched, his heart hammering in his chest.

  Failures were part of cultivation, sure, but Devor took pride in his careful, meticulous approach. He had never encountered anything like this, not in any of the manuals or texts he’d studied.

  With a slight bend of his knees, he leapt over the rows of plants, landing effortlessly beside the ailing one.

  Crouching, he reached out to touch one of the gray leaves.

  The moment his fingers brushed it, the leaf disintegrated into fine ash, crumbling away as if all life had been drained from it.

  His eyes narrowed, pupils shrinking. “This... this isn’t right,” he muttered, letting the ashes slip through his fingers.

  He brought his hand closer to his face and inhaled deeply. The faint, acrid scent stirred a sense of déjà vu.

  “This smell... it’s the same one I noticed earlier.” His face darkened, worry lines deepening as his mind raced, already piecing together the grim possibilities of what this could mean.

  Without hesitation, Devor called for Forly and the other disciples under his command.

  In minutes, a group of eleven gathered before him, their faces reflecting his concern.

  “Spread out,” Devor ordered, his voice firm. “Check every plant in your section. If you spot anything—gray leaves, discoloration, anything off—report back right away. And if a plant’s beyond saving, pull it out immediately.”

  The disciples nodded, urgency in their movements as they dispersed.

  Devor joined the search, moving methodically through the rows. The sun was setting, casting a warm orange glow over the field, but the beauty of the moment was lost on him. The tension in his chest only grew heavier.

  As he moved, more anomalies emerged—seven plants with stems, leaves, or flowers marked by the same eerie gray.

  “This doesn’t make sense,” he muttered, crouching down to examine one of the damaged plants. “This kind of damage... it shouldn’t be happening.”

  By the time the disciples regrouped, they all reported the same troubling signs. Several other plants across the field displayed identical symptoms, their vibrant Qi seemingly drained away.

  Devor gave a clear directive. “Uproot all the affected plants and bring them to one spot. If you find any more, pull them immediately and inform me.”

  Under the pale glow of the rising moon, the group gathered the gray plants into a single area. Their dull, lifeless appearance starkly contrasted with the healthy greenery around them.

  Devor knelt by one of the uprooted plants, his fingers brushing over its gray, brittle stem. He closed his eyes, attempting to sense any lingering Qi, but all he felt was an eerie, cold emptiness.

  “These plants are completely lifeless,” Devor said, his voice low and heavy. “It’s like something’s drained them of every ounce of their Qi.”

  Forly, standing a little off to the side, hesitated before speaking up. “Senior Devor, could this be caused by pests? Or maybe the soil or fertilizers are contaminated?”

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  Devor shook his head slowly, his gaze still locked on the lifeless plant. "No. Pests always leave some trace of Qi, even after they’ve fed. And if the soil or fertilizers were contaminated, we'd see gradual changes—stunted growth, discoloration—not this total depletion."

  He paused, his thoughts drifting to his own Essence of Nature Cultivation Technique, which drew Qi from the surrounding plants.

  He frowned, his voice low. "This doesn’t feel right. It’s like these plants were drained on purpose, their Qi stolen—by something... or someone."

  A chill of dread began to settle in his chest.

  The soft light of morning spilled over the barren Spiritual Garden, now stripped of its once-vibrant greenery. Devor stood at the edge of the field, his gaze fixed on the lifeless gray remnants of what had once been thriving Spiritual Plants.

  "Could I be the one behind this?" The thought gnawed at him, an unsettling doubt he couldn’t shake.

  Even with his perfected Essence of Nature Cultivation Technique, it was hard to believe his method could have drained the plants this much. He had always followed strict discipline, absorbing Qi only from the plants allocated to him—not those he was meant to protect.

  Clenching his fists, Devor turned to face the eleven disciples gathered before him, their faces etched with worry.

  “Listen up,” he said, his voice calm despite the storm brewing inside. “From now on, watch every field closely. If you spot any plants with gray discoloration, pull them up right away and bring them to one place. I’ll inspect them myself.”

  “Understood, Senior!” the disciples replied together, bowing with deep respect.

  The night that followed felt endlessly long. Every time Devor closed his eyes, the image of the gray leaves crumbling to dust haunted him. Guilt and doubt gnawed at him, making sleep impossible.

  “Is this my fault?” Devor muttered into the darkness, his voice barely a whisper.

  ??????

  By dawn, Devor rose, his body weighed down by the same heavy unease. As he walked the familiar paths of the Spiritual Field, the usual calm brought by the morning light was absent. Instead, dread clung to him, following him like a shadow.

  When he reached the field, his worst fears were confirmed.

  The anomaly had spread. More plants were affected—this time, it wasn’t just the leaves and stems. Flowers that had once glowed with vibrant Qi were now withered and gray.

  Devor knelt beside one of the afflicted plants, gently lifting it from the soil. Closing his eyes, he reached out with his Spiritual Sense, searching for the familiar flow of life. But instead, he was met with a heavy, suffocating emptiness.

  “The Qi... it’s all gone,” he whispered, his voice barely a breath.

  Even the air around him felt different. The once-pure Qi that had nurtured the field now hung heavy and dark, oppressive in its stillness.

  “No… this doesn’t make sense,” he murmured, his voice thick with disbelief.

  By mid-morning, things had only gotten worse. More plants were found affected, their lifeless bodies pulled from the earth and gathered into grim piles.

  Devor’s face hardened as he made a difficult decision.

  “Uproot every plant in the field,” he commanded, his tone calm but resolute. “Leave nothing standing.”

  The disciples froze, stunned. This command was unprecedented. To uproot every plant meant complete failure—a missed monthly quota, a disgrace to the Sect.

  “Do it!” Devor repeated, his voice now cold and unwavering.

  Reluctantly, the disciples obeyed.

  By midday, the field lay barren. The only things left were mounds of withered, gray plants. Devor stood motionless, his fists clenched tightly as he stared at the desolate scene. The weight of his failure pressed on him like an unyielding storm.

  “Senior…” Forly’s voice faltered from behind him.

  Devor turned, his expression calm but tense. “What is it, Forly?”

  Forly hesitated, his face betraying his unease.

  “Just tell me, Forly. I can take it,” Devor said, though the weariness in his voice made Forly’s chest tighten.

  “The field you’ve cultivated, Senior…” Forly swallowed hard. “It’s been infected too.”

  Devor’s heart sank, but his face remained unreadable.

  ??????

  Devor and Forly walked in silence toward the field Devor had carefully cultivated over the past year.

  As they arrived, the sight confirmed Forly’s words. The Spiritual Plants Devor had nurtured with such dedication, each one attuned to his unique cultivation method, had fallen victim to the same gray corruption.

  Devor’s gaze swept over the scene, lingering on the five distinct rows of plants—each representing a different elemental Qi. These plants had been the cornerstone of his cultivation, acquired at great cost with Contribution Points and Spirit Stones, or through hard-earned exchanges with Wulin and Yulin.

  But now, they stood lifeless, their energy drained, their once-vibrant colors faded to dull ash-gray.

  At the center of the field, Devor’s eyes fixed on the area enclosed by energy barriers. Inside, the experimental formation he had carefully crafted for the Sky-Grade Spiritual Seed was no better off.

  The delicate balance he had worked so hard to achieve was shattered. The Earth-Grade sprout, once full of promise, had withered into a lifeless husk, its faint glow extinguished.

  Devor stood motionless, his expression unreadable. He looked like a statue, frozen in the face of his silent despair.

  From a distance, Forly felt a sharp pang in his chest. The weight of Devor’s loss was almost tangible, even from afar.

  “Senior…” Forly began, his voice soft.

  But Devor raised a hand, signaling for him to stop. Slowly, he stepped forward into the field, stopping just before the barrier. He reached out, placing his palm against its surface, feeling the faint energy that still clung to it.

  “This field... I gave everything for it,” Devor murmured, his voice barely a whisper. “And yet…”

  He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. The bitterness rising in his chest threatened to overwhelm him, but he pushed it down, forcing himself to stay steady.