In the stillness of the chamber, Sidra remained deep in meditation, her body attuned to the profound flow of energy within and around her. Each minute she remained in this heightened state, the pull of the natural cycle intensified.
She could feel the energy drawn in from the dense essence of heaven and earth surrounding her, but in a strange, perplexing pattern, she expelled an equal, if not greater, amount of energy with every breath, creating a rhythmic balance.
This cycle, once gentle, began to quicken in pace—an ever-increasing spiral of energy intake and release, transforming into a storm that whipped around her, with Sidra anchored as its calm center.
The density of the energy swirling around her thickened incrementally, each pulse amplifying its strength. With each passing moment, changes began to manifest in her body.
From her pores, thick, black tar-like impurities were expelled, immediately swept away by the energy storm, as if the universe itself sought to cleanse her. Each expulsion left her form more purified, more refined.
Her hair darkened, merging with the surrounding shadows, absorbing the dim starlight that flickered above her. Her face, subtly altered, grew more symmetrical, more perfect—an ethereal beauty that hinted at something far beyond mortal limits.
Her height increased, her bones stretching, her muscles refining—not by much, just enough to enhance her form without robbing her of the youthful innocence she still possessed, though now tinged with an air of mysticism.
And within her, the change went deeper. Her blood began to thicken, its purity increasing as her marrow transformed. No longer was it merely blood—it carried the essence of something ancient, something powerful. As it circulated through her veins, it grew heavier, more potent, reshaping her body from the inside out.
Nine hours passed. The storm raged on, its intensity matched only by the serenity with which Sidra sat at its core. But then, her body began to stir, not by her will but by something deeper.
The blood coursing through her veins, now purified and empowered, began to gather energy on its own. It resonated with a force buried deep within her bloodline—a force long dormant but now awakening.
In her mental world, Sidra sensed something forming—a presence, vast and ancient. Slowly, it took shape, a profound gate manifesting within her consciousness.
It was colossal, unlike anything she had encountered, yet somehow familiar, as though it had been waiting for this moment all along. Her blood, now fully transformed, pulsed with energy that beckoned the gate into being.
As the gate formed, Sidra's meditative trance was gently broken. Her awareness was pulled toward the gate, her consciousness drawn from the swirling storm of energy to the front of this monumental structure within her mind.
The storm of energy slowed as her focus shifted, and soon, all that remained was her and the gate.
The gate stood before her, immense and out of this world, its surface etched with intricate designs that seemed to pulse with a life of their own.
Sidra tried to focus on them, but the symbols eluded her, slipping away from her mind's grasp whenever she attempted to comprehend them.
It was as though the gate operated on a level beyond mortal understanding.
But amid the swirling complexity, one image became clear—a grand tree, carved boldly into the centre of the gate. Its roots extended outwards, seemingly stretching into the very fabric of space, entwining with the cosmos itself.
Its canopy reached upwards, disappearing into the unknown, as though it touched the edge of reality. The tree exuded an immense, immeasurable power, a power Sidra could sense but not yet grasp.
Still, within her heightened state, that profound image of the tree slowly became clearer. Her connection to the Tree of Legacy—a bloodline inheritance of the Arden clan—had awakened.
The overwhelming sense of awe coursed through her, but as the moments passed, her trance-like state from meditation gradually weakened, leaving her with a clearer, more focused vision of the tree.
The overwhelming sense of profundity she had felt when the image first appeared began to fade, the intensity ebbing away. What remained was the sight of a massive, ancient tree, etched onto the gate with a depth of meaning she couldn't quite grasp.
It still carried a profound feeling, heavy with significance, yet frustratingly elusive, as though the true essence of it hovered just beyond her understanding, impossible to put into words.
Sidra fully roused from her meditative state, blinking as she looked around, momentarily disoriented by the shift back to reality.
"I wonder how much time has passed?" she murmured to herself, a tinge of regret settling in.
The sensation of slipping into that zone-like state had been indescribably wonderful, a feeling of boundless peace and clarity.
But she knew the constraints were too great to sustain it for long—her body and mind were not yet capable of such prolonged immersion.
And then, of course, there was the matter of the clan's awakening, the most pressing limitation of all.
Her gaze shifted upwards, landing on the towering gate before her.
"So, this is the Arden Clan's legacy," she whispered, awe in her voice as she slowly approached.
She lifted her hand and pressed it against the gate, expecting resistance, but to her surprise, it gave way effortlessly.
The monumental gate, which looked as though it could only be moved by a force beyond comprehension, opened as if responding not to her strength but to her will alone.
A dazzling light burst forth, flooding her with ethereal energy.
It struck her body first, seeping into her skin and being absorbed by her being.
The rest of the energy surged outward, sweeping through her consciousness, cleansing, strengthening, and expanding her mental faculties.
But with her earlier enlightenment already having honed her body and mind to their current limits, the energy—though potent and foreign, akin to the essence of heaven and earth—merely added the smallest of refinements to her being before being expelled from her body and drawn back into the gate.
As the brilliance receded, Sidra's vision cleared, revealing what lay beyond the gate.
Her breath caught as she gazed at an expansive domain that felt far more than just a normal domain.
It looked like a true world, one dominated by a colossal tree that spanned the entire sky, its immense branches supporting the heavens themselves.
The tree's leaves shimmered with light, each one unique, and its strange, otherworldly fruits hung from its limbs in a way that defied understanding.
Beneath the tree, there was no darkness, only a surreal illumination cast by its presence.
Sidra stepped through the gate, her awe deepening with every step as she marvelled at the impossible sight before her.
But just as she was about to lose herself in the grandeur of it all, a sound echoed ahead, drawing her focus away from the tree and back to what lay in front of her.
Within her sight now, as her focus shifted from the vast, celestial tree, lay the figures of her clansmen—the esteemed members of the Arden Clan.
The Patriarch and the elders stood among them, their attention fixed on her as she emerged from the gate, which loomed behind her like the maw of a great beast, suspended in the void of space and darkness.
The weight of their collective gaze pressed upon her, yet she felt no discomfort, only a growing curiosity at their expressions.
The Patriarch was the first to break the silence, his voice calm yet tinged with a quiet concern.
"What took you so long?" he asked, his sharp eyes studying her. "You've been in meditation for nearly half a day. I was just about to return and check on you, thinking something may have gone wrong."
Sidra blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the time she had lost track of. She hadn't realized so many hours had passed in her state of heightened awareness.
The Patriarch's words carried no reproach, yet they stirred within her a recognition of the delicate balance she had unknowingly tipped into—where moments stretched into hours, unnoticed in her pursuit of cultivation.
Sidra spoke in a calm, measured tone, her expression betraying none of the depth of her recent experience. "It took longer than I expected," she began, her words careful and composed.
"As soon as I began drawing in the essence of heaven and earth, my bloodline responded. The process of cleansing my body started immediately, and it seemed endless—only completing just a short while ago."
She left the rest unsaid, the profound awakening she had undergone, the transformation that had taken root far deeper than any physical change, all hidden beneath the surface.
There was no need to reveal the entire truth, not yet. What she had shared would suffice for now, an explanation that, though true, barely scratched the surface of her experience.
The patriarch and elders exchanged glances, their surprise palpable. This was not the kind of response they had anticipated.
Bloodline activation through the cleansing process was expected, but for it to take this long and be so intense was unusual. The patriarch's brows furrowed slightly, sensing that something was amiss.
As his sharp gaze lingered on Sidra, he began to notice subtle details that had escaped him at first—details so obvious, it was almost unnerving that he had missed them.
Her presence, though still clearly in the form of consciousness, bore an uncanny completeness, as if she had transcended the initial stages of cultivation far too quickly.
It was as though the very essence of her soul had nearly materialized into a true physical state, something that should have been impossible for someone who had only just begun her path.
His eyes narrowed further, observing the shift in her appearance. Though Sidra still looked like herself, there was an undeniable refinement to her features, a subtle perfection that hadn't been there before.
It wasn't just physical beauty—it was an almost imperceptible harmony, a smoothing of imperfections that made her seem more like the essence of herself, purer in form.
The change was profound yet mysterious, a hint of something deeper at work, as if the natural laws themselves had subtly realigned her to a more perfect state.
The elders, too, sensed it. There was a Daoist enigma in the air, a mystery of cultivation and fate entwined, hinting at something beyond their comprehension. The patriarch's gaze deepened as he continued to assess her, his thoughts now steeped in the unknown.
As if sensing the delicate nature of the subject, the patriarch's expression shifted, choosing not to delve further into the curious state Sidra now presented.
A fleeting glimpse of contemplation passed over his features, but with a measured exhale, he redirected the conversation.
"Since you took longer than expected," he began, his tone still calm but now slightly more authoritative, "we couldn't delay the process for the others. The rest of the clansmen who entered before you have already completed their final steps of bloodline activation. You, Sidra, are the last to cross this threshold."
There was a subtle undercurrent to his words, one that spoke of more than just practical matters. The timing, the sequence of events—it felt too aligned with some unseen force, as though her delayed emergence carried deeper implications.
Though the patriarch made no explicit mention of it, there was a Daoist resonance in the air, an unspoken acknowledgment that such mysteries often unfolded in their own time, guided by unseen hands.
The elders, standing nearby, remained silent, but their gazes were sharp, watchful. Sidra's path seemed bound to something beyond mere coincidence.
Yet, for now, the patriarch kept the conversation grounded in practicalities, as though not yet ready to address the profound shifts that were slowly becoming evident.
The patriarch, his gaze steady yet carrying the weight of something unspoken, motioned toward the towering tree whose roots seemed to extend into realms beyond sight.
"Go now," he said, his tone softer yet imbued with a quiet authority. "Stand beneath the Tree of Legacy and place your hand upon it. The rest will unfold naturally—no need to force anything. What is meant for you will come."
His words carried a deeper meaning, as if the act of touching the tree was not merely a ritual but a calling—an invitation for Sidra to step further into the unknown currents of her destiny.
There was no need to question; the Dao would reveal its path in due time.
Sidra had been quietly absorbing everything, from the profound energy of the domain to the subtle nuances in the patriarch's words.
As his direction sank in, her gaze shifted to where he indicated—the base of the colossal tree.
Her eyes lingered on the platform, a strange paradox taking shape in her mind. The surface appeared like stone, solid and unmoving, yet as she focused, there was an undeniable sense of life beneath it, a texture almost akin to tree bark.
It was as though the platform existed in a liminal state, neither entirely stone nor tree—something she couldn't fully identify.
The material felt ancient, yet alive, an enigma that mirrored the mysteries of the Tree of Legacy itself.
The platform seemed to merge seamlessly with the ancient bark, an integral fragment of the tree's essence, waiting for her to approach.
Sidra took her first step toward the Tree, but a sudden feeling tugged at her awareness, her brows furrowing as she paused.
It was subtle at first, but unmistakable—a presence, as if something was observing her, evaluating her every movement.
She shifted her gaze briefly toward the Patriarch and the others, but the sensation remained unchanged.
No, this gaze was different, deeper, as if the very essence of the realm itself was watching her, something far beyond the surface of mortal eyes.
With a quiet breath, she turned her attention back to the path ahead, her mind steady but wary.
Sidra continued her steps toward the platform, the feeling of being observed still lingering, growing more tangible with each passing moment.
As she walked, the sensation became more familiar, tugging at the edges of her memory.
It felt like something she had encountered before—elusive yet recognizable. Her mind raced to place it, and then, with a few more steps, the realization surfaced: it echoed the faint presence of her bloodline, though only a small trace of it.
The rest was much like the profound energy she had sensed upon first entering this realm through the gate.
Reaching the platform, she paused, her thoughts still swirling as she tried to locate the source of the gaze.
Yet, the presence was too ethereal, too all-encompassing to pinpoint, leaving her with the subtle understanding that whatever was observing her was far beyond any realm of cultivation she could fathom.
With her mind divided between the challenge ahead and the lingering sensation of being observed, Sidra ascended the few steps to the platform and stood before the trunk of the tree, contemplative.
The immense presence of the tree loomed above her, its ancient bark exuding a sense of timeless wisdom and power.
Following the patriarch's directive, she drew in a steadying breath, letting the ambient energy of the realm wash over her.
Gently, she placed her hand against the tree's surface, feeling the pulsating essence within it resonate with her own being.
As her palm connected with the bark, a wave of warmth surged through her, beckoning her to embrace the unknown, ready to witness what this moment of communion would unfold.
A fleeting moment passed, and as Sidra's palm lingered against the tree, the threads of her thoughts began to weave together, forming connections that eluded clear comprehension.
Intrigued yet confounded, she sensed a revelation hovering just beyond her grasp, a tantalizing whisper of insight that seemed to echo through her very soul.
Suddenly, her expression transformed, eyes widening in astonishment as if she had stumbled upon an unfathomable truth.
The weight of this newfound understanding pressed upon her, a shocking realization that resonated deep within her being, leaving her momentarily breathless and awash with disbelief.
Still ensnared by her astonishment, Sidra barely registered the sudden shift in her surroundings as a foreign essence began to coalesce around her.
It swirled and shaped itself into a luminous orb, enclosing her in its ethereal embrace just beyond the trunk of the tree, compelling her to instinctively withdraw her palm.
Within mere moments, the essence ball tightened around her, and then, with staggering swiftness, it surged upward like a shooting star, transcending the constraints of time and space.
The world blurred into a kaleidoscope of colours, leaving only the shimmering translucence of the orb as she ascended beyond the limits of her perception, carried by an unseen force toward the vast unknown.
A cacophony of murmurs erupted from the gathered clansmen below the platform, a chorus of astonished voices reacting to the spectacle before them.
"Did you see that? It was here one moment, and then gone the next!" one voice exclaimed, incredulity palpable in their tone.
Another added, "What kind of power is this? I've never witnessed such speed during the activation!"
The crowd buzzed with speculation, each whisper weaving a tapestry of awe and disbelief as they caught glimpses of the brilliant orb piercing the sky.
Amidst the rising excitement, a coherent thread began to emerge from the chaos, voices mingling in a mixture of astonishment and reverence.
"It must be a manifestation of her potential!" one elder proclaimed, the realization dawning upon them like the first light of dawn.
"When new clansmen connect with the Tree of Legacy, they are elevated to showcase their capacity for knowledge and essence.
The height to which they ascend reveals the realms they can access, the wisdom contained within the tree, until they advance further in their cultivation."
The notion sent ripples of anticipation through the assembly; each clan member keenly aware that they were witnessing a moment to be steeped in legends.
The murmurs swelled, creating a cacophony of intrigue and speculation, while Sidra, encased in her ethereal cocoon, surged toward the heavens, the essence intertwining around her in a protective shell, leaving behind only a blur of the world beyond the bubble and silence.
As Sidra gradually emerged from the shock of her earlier revelation, clarity began to weave through the tapestry of her thoughts.
"I see," she mused internally, the realization dawning like the first light of dawn piercing through the veil of night.
"So that's where the sensation of being observed and evaluated was emanating from." The weight of understanding settled upon her.
It was the spirit of the tree, its ancient essence scrutinizing her with an attentive gaze, perhaps seeking to fathom the depths of her potential.
Now that she had the time to refocus her mind, the pieces of this intricate puzzle fell into place with surprising ease.
Throughout her life's, especially in her previous world, tales had existed of trees gaining sentience, revered and worshipped long before the dawn of modernity.
In this cultivation realm, where the boundaries of reality bent and twisted under the weight of the extraordinary, it was only logical that such a colossal tree—one whose heights seemed to stretch beyond the heavens—would harbour its own consciousness.
How could she have expected anything less from a being so magnificent, a true world in its own right?
"No wonder I couldn't pinpoint the source of that observation," she chuckled awkwardly, the sound echoing softly within the ethereal cocoon surrounding her.
The laughter was tinged with both embarrassment and relief, a whimsical release of the tension that had knotted within her.
Yet, beneath the laughter lay a current of seriousness that began to take hold of Sidra's thoughts. "I need to stop underestimating this world and its ways," she chastised herself internally, the gravity of her realization grounding her amidst the ethereal light.
"Clinging to the mindset of the modern era will only lead to folly in a realm so different and enigmatic." The very fabric of this reality pulsed with mysteries that transcended her previous existence, each moment brimming with potential and peril alike.
"If I do not fully embrace my current environment," she pondered, a flicker of determination igniting within her, "it could cost me dearly one day."
The stakes were far higher here, and the price of ignorance was not mere embarrassment or failure; it was a matter of life and death
As Sidra's awareness sharpened, she refocused on the ascension of the essence bubble, a curious spectacle unfolding before her.
What felt like mere moments stretched into an ethereal journey, and soon the bubble emerged from the sprawling canopy of the tree, soaring beyond its majestic crown.
To her astonishment, it came to a complete halt with a suddenness that belied the speed of its ascent.
Yet throughout this entire passage, she felt nothing—no vibrations, no inertia, nor any of the disorienting sensations that typically accompanied such a rapid elevation.
The experience had been enveloped in a profound tranquillity, an almost surreal serenity that left her pondering.
"That's strange," she murmured, her brow furrowing in confusion.
"There is no way I could have ascended beyond the crown of the tree in such a short span. Just moments ago, I was rooted at its base."
The enormity of the tree loomed in her mind, its height stretching infinitely into the heavens, a concept that now felt paradoxical in light of her swift journey.
The vastness she had perceived upon her entry into this realm was at odds with the apparent ease of her current position, leaving her grappling with the enigma of time and space.