Chapter 962 – The Ancient Gravewoods

Sunlight struggled through the dense, overlapping layers of branches and leaves, transforming into countless slanting pillars of light, clearly visible in the hazy mist.

Cool, moist air rushed against her face. The scents of moss, humus, ancient stone, and some faint floral fragrance mingled together. The forces of nature, the power of life, and the Death Force intertwined here, even more awe-inspiring than in her memories.

“This is the place.”

Mo Lan walked slowly through this wondrous gravewoods.

From the crown of a small tree that had struggled out through the cracks of a gravestone yet grown remarkably tall and straight, she plucked a tender green leaf still glistening with morning dew.

From the edge of a fallen, massive rotting log—its heartwood long hollow but its outer form still intact—she gently removed a complete, dry, yellow-brown leaf.

Then, beside a grave encircled by twisting roots, she dug out a small clump of deep black, glossy humus that exuded a cool fragrance.

Finally, on an ancient gravestone almost entirely covered by thick moss with only a corner exposed, she carefully peeled away a small gray stone fragment with living moss still attached.

The freshly sprouted leaf represented the beginning of life; the fully withered but unrotted leaf represented natural death; the humus-rich soil represented the transformation between life and death; and the moss-covered gravestone fragment represented the passage of time.

These four items were the indispensable ritual mediums for completing the Gravewoods Singer investiture ceremony.

After gathering the mediums, Mo Lan walked to a relatively open area at the center of the gravewoods.

There stood a gravestone tree—half of it gnarled, twisted wood, and the other half rock crawling with deep green moss and tiny ferns.

It was the place in the entire valley where the Death Force and the forces of nature and life intertwined most densely, making it ideal for conducting the ceremony.

Mo Lan sat cross-legged, placed the four mediums before her, and fully relaxed her body and mind, trying to attune herself to the pulse of this land and listen to the rhythm of life and death within nature.

Then she extended her hands—her left hand gently resting upon the tender green leaf, her right hand brushing over the withered yellow leaf—and swore her oath in a special chanting intonation:

“With the budding green as the opening note, and the fading yellow as the final chapter;

With the nourishing soil as the harmony, and the moss-covered years as the rest.

Here I swear: I shall become a listener and singer of the rhythm of life and death.

I listen to the joyful song of growth, and honor the whisper of decay; I cherish the splendor of blossoming, and accept the peace of returning to dust.

I shall not cling to life in fear of death, nor revel in death while scorning life.

I wish only to make my heart the string, harmonizing both ends, singing the complete and eternal song of nature.

May the rhythm here resonate with me. May the ever-turning song… endure through my voice.”

As the oath was spoken, at Mo Lan’s side, a small sapling seemed to stand a little straighter; a withered leaf high above happened to spiral down; the humus beneath her feet seemed to grow faintly warm; and the moss on the stone fragment in her hand flickered with a brief, soft glow.

Within her personal magic space, the professional sigil belonging to the Gravewoods Singer lit up.

Next, she needed to head to Quelariel. For this outing, Mo Lan had assumed her Elf appearance and hadn’t bothered with any further disguise.

Now that she had been invested as a Gravewoods Singer, she could openly keep Zhizhi, Clack, and Sentai by her side.

A teleportation channel opened beside her, and the three little ones filed out one after another—and the moment they appeared, Mo Lan was stunned.

Mo Lan had told them beforehand that they were heading into a forest and would be traveling toward Quelariel, leveling up her Gravewoods Singer class along the way. So the moment Zhizhi emerged, she had already shifted into her long-unseen giant form.

She was far larger than Mo Lan remembered—towering well above the tallest tree in the ancient gravewoods. It would not be an exaggeration to call her a silver mountain.

And Sentai, remarkably, could now exist apart from soil for extended periods. With precision and gentleness, it wound itself around Zhizhi’s massive silver arms, torso, and neck, intertwining and anchoring itself. In just a few breaths, across Zhizhi’s shoulders and back—broad as a mountain ridge—it had woven a set of dark green vine armor that conformed perfectly to her colossal frame, patterned with natural motifs.

The vine armor was adorned with glowing moss and tiny biomimetic silver bell-flower structures, providing a degree of protection while looking remarkably beautiful.

But that wasn’t all. Sentai had also constructed two comfortable seats—one large and one small—on the gentle slope of Zhizhi’s left shoulder near the neck.

The larger one was clearly meant for Mo Lan, complete with a backrest and even armrest-like structures. The smaller one resembled a snug hollow, perfectly sized for Clack’s frame.

The seat surfaces were covered with soft, living moss cushions, and thoughtfully, several thin vines hung down from the edges to serve as safety straps.

Two supple vines extended down from beside the seats like the most dexterous of arms—one gently coiled around Mo Lan’s waist, the other cradled Clack’s pelvis—and steadily lifted them up, setting them in their respective seats. The vines then loosened and retracted to the edges of the chairs.

Mo Lan felt her field of vision broaden dramatically; she could even see the nearby cities from up here.

She could already imagine how many stares this mode of travel would attract. “Zhizhi, you’re too big! Shrink down a bit—half the height of these trees will do!”

Zhizhi obliged and shrank, and the vine armor Sentai had formed shrank along with her.

Even at the reduced size, Zhizhi’s shoulders were still plenty spacious for Mo Lan and Clack.

At this size, she carried a certain intimidating presence without being excessively conspicuous.

“You three really gave me a wonderful surprise!” Mo Lan raised her hand and pointed in the general direction of Quelariel. “Head that way, Zhizhi.”

The giant ape Zhizhi lifted her head and let out a deep but piercingly resonant howl. Then she bent her knees slightly, and her massive feet pressed down upon the ground carpeted with humus and moss.

The scenery before Mo Lan’s eyes instantly blurred, stretched, and then reassembled.

With a single step, they had already left the valley where the ancient gravewoods lay.

Zhizhi didn’t pause. Her second step followed immediately, and in the blink of an eye, they stood atop the mountain ahead.

Mo Lan felt a distinct spatial fluctuation. Her voice was full of delighted surprise. “Zhizhi, you can perform consecutive spatial teleportations while traveling now?”

Zhizhi’s enormous head nodded. While continuing to “walk” forward at a pace that appeared leisurely but actually covered several miles per step, she raised one giant palm and patted her furry belly, looking proud yet a little greedy as she said:

“Sure can! I could run all the way to Quelariel without stopping! It’s just… running a lot makes my tummy empty. But a few barrels of good wine will fix that right up!”

“Deal! As much as you want!” Mo Lan laughed and agreed. She relaxed, leaning back into the soft vine chair, feeling the wind that rushed past her ears yet somehow wasn’t biting, watching the mountains, rivers, forests, and lakes flash by below.

Clack sat quietly beside her, his soul fire burning steadily, seemingly enjoying the sensation of high-speed travel as well.

The vine armor and seats Sentai had woven perfectly filtered out the jostling and most of the airflow, providing a smooth and comfortable ride.

In both comfort and travel speed, it was every bit as good as a broomstick.