Chapter 988 – Suramalan

Having knocked out enemies the entire way, by the time Mo Lan left the Nightveil Clan’s territory, the labyrinthine caves behind her were littered with Deep Shadow Elves who had lost the ability to move.

Finding a deserted underground tunnel, she used Spatial Magic to teleport directly back to the entrance of the Rift’s Throat, then entered the mirror space nearby.

With all the inheritances now in hand, her next step was to use the mirror space’s time flow adjustment to digest the knowledge within those inheritances as quickly as possible, raising the remaining professions to level 20.

Mo Lan’s Mana rank had long surpassed the Tenth Rank. In the Seran world, her Mana could be converted into the magical energy required by any profession, all exceeding level 20—her only shortcoming lay in her Magic skill levels.

Other extraordinary professionals, upon reaching levels 19 or 20, would begin considering how to gradually cast spells independent of the Weave, preparing to break through level 20 and become “gods.” Mo Lan, however, had been studying the complete spell structures through the Weave’s simplified spell models ever since arriving in the Seran world.

Though she hadn’t fully deciphered the spell structure of every single spell, casting independently of the Weave was entirely within her capability.

Level 19 demigod, level 20 quasi-god, or even beyond level 20—none of these posed any threshold for her. It was merely a matter of time.

And in the mirror space, time was precisely what wasn’t a problem.

Less than ten years passed in the outside world before Mo Lan had fully digested the knowledge from the inherited memories of every Elf branch. The eight mainstream Elf extraordinary professions beneficial to the bloodline atavism ritual—druid, ranger, Radiant Cleric, Solar Knight, Shadow Walker, Shadow Assassin, Astral mage, and Astrologer—had all broken through to level 20.

“It’s time to go to Suramalan!” With a flicker of thought, Mo Lan’s figure vanished from the mirror space and reappeared near the Rift’s Throat.

This time, she didn’t have Zhizhi carry her along the journey.

Suramalan—the legendary former capital of the Elves, the birthplace and holy land of Elven civilization—was not actually located on the prime material plane of the Seran world.

According to records shared across the inherited memories of all Elf branches, it was hidden within a high-energy demiplane that was intimately connected to the prime world yet existed independently.

After irreconcilable disagreements over core philosophies arose among the high Elves, splitting them into branches—Astral Elves, Solar Corona Elves, Deep Shadow Elves, nature Elves, and others—each departing to walk their own independent paths, the last group of high Elves who upheld the “Way of Wholeness” had joined forces to completely seal Suramalan and the demiplane it resided in.

The inherited memories of every Elf branch clearly recorded the method of entering Suramalan.

The method itself was not complicated.

Any pureblooded Elf of level 15 or higher, while within the Seran world, could use their own pure Elven bloodline as a medium and recite an ancient summoning incantation to call forth the gateway to Suramalan beside them.

However, summoning the gateway was merely the first step.

The true threshold lay in “opening” it.

Upon the gateway, an ancient detection mechanism had been set in place.

Only an Elf who truly wished to accept and understand the philosophies and wisdom of all Elf branches—one who no longer harbored narrow factional prejudice, and who had already mastered the power of the stars, the radiant force, the power of shadow, and the forces of nature—could condense a “key” that united all four energies simultaneously, open the sealed doors, and enter the dust-covered Suramalan.

But none of this posed a problem for Mo Lan.

Mo Lan surveyed her surroundings, confirming that no one was nearby to disturb her, then extended both hands with palms facing each other before her chest. In an ancient, melodious intonation, she began chanting the summoning incantation for the gateway to Suramalan.

As the incantation flowed forth, the nature Elf bloodline within her began to heat gently, radiating a soft emerald glow. The air around her began to ripple like water, and space itself emitted a deep, harmonious hum.

Not far before her, a point of silvery-white light appeared out of thin air, rapidly expanding to outline the contours of a massive archway roughly ten meters tall and five meters wide.

The arch was composed of a milky-white material that was neither jade nor wood, its surface flowing with starlight-like motes of light.

The doors were sealed shut, their surfaces etched with incredibly intricate and magnificent reliefs depicting scenes from the zenith of high Elven civilization.

Mo Lan ceased her chanting and stepped forward, condensing together the power of the stars, the power of shadow, the radiant force, and the forces of nature that she commanded.

The four energies intertwined and spiraled in her hands. The sealed doors emitted a heavy grinding sound and slowly shifted inward, opening a gap just wide enough for a single person to pass through.

Soft yet unmistakably bright light flowed from that gap, warmly enveloping Mo Lan.

The instant the light touched her skin, she felt a slight spatial pull, as though she had been “accepted” by the light itself.

In the next moment, her figure—along with the massive gateway that had only just cracked open—blurred and faded like a reflection on water scattered by a thrown stone, vanishing completely into the air without leaving the slightest trace.

After a brief moment of weightlessness, Mo Lan’s feet touched solid ground.

The soft halo of light still wrapped around her, though it was no longer blinding.

Mo Lan blinked, adjusting to the new environment.

The first thing she noticed was the magical energy in the air—so dense it seemed almost liquefied. This energy was not singular: the vast power of the stars, the warm radiant force, the serene power of shadow, the vibrant forces of nature… every type of magical energy she knew was perfectly interwoven and fused together, forming an environment both majestic and harmonious.

The energy concentration here was even higher than that of the Amethyst Ring in Quelariel, and far gentler. Merely breathing, one could feel these energies spontaneously nourishing body and spirit.

Before her eyes stretched a boundless space of breathtaking beauty.

Beneath her feet lay a jade-stone floor, smooth as a mirror and emanating a warm white glow. Its material was similar to the gateway’s but far purer, extending all the way to the edge of her vision.

Above, there was no sky—only flowing silver starlight and magnificent auroras. Countless tiny elemental particles, moving as if alive, drifted beneath the vaulted canopy, occasionally sprinkling down dreamlike showers of light.

At the far edge of her vision, the silhouette of a tree so immense it defied description stood like a pillar supporting heaven and earth, towering in solemn majesty.

Even from such a vast distance, Mo Lan could feel the energy pulsing from that great tree—countless times more magnificent and boundless than the Tree of Life in the Emerald Forest, the Starlight Ancient Tree in Quelariel, the Radiant Tree in the City of Eternal Radiance, or the Shadow Tree of the Nightveil Clan.

It was simultaneously wreathed in the power of life, the radiant force, and the power of shadow, ceaselessly drawing the power of the stars from the sky above and the world beyond, converting it into abundant magical energy that filled this entire space.

Mo Lan knew—this was the origin of the high Elves: the Mother Tree of Life.

The nature Elves’ Tree of Life, the Astral Elves’ Starlight Ancient Tree, the Solar Corona Elves’ Radiant Tree, the Deep Shadow Elves’ Shadow Tree—each was merely the transformation of a single one of its branches.