Ascending the stairs and stepping onto the platform, the scene before them was both striking and grim: lifelike ice sculptures, scattered severed limbs, and Dan Heng at the edge of the platform. His raised right hand emitted an intense golden light, illuminating his pale and exhausted face.
Above him, the once-emerald dragon shadow had turned a deep, blood-red hue, its form oscillating between the visage of the Ambrosial Arbor and the dragon. The strain etched into Dan Heng’s features made it clear—he had taken on yet another heavy burden.
Jing Yuan noticed Chen Lin approaching and, with a complicated expression, gave him a small nod. The path to the Arbor had been opened.
“You’re here.”
“Yeah. Doesn’t look great, does it?” Chen Lin replied, his voice calm but laced with concern. “I’ve managed to extract some intel. Their plan is to capture Dan Heng alive, ensuring the Arbiter’s power is passed on.”
Standing shoulder to shoulder with Jing Yuan, Chen Lin paused, observing Dan Heng’s determined yet strained posture. He sighed. “They’ve been targeting him the whole time. A weakened Arbiter is far easier to subdue than one at full strength—it’s all part of their plan. Heh, I can’t help but wonder… if Bailu inherited the Arbiter’s power instead, what kind of Arbiter would she become?”
“…”
Jing Yuan glanced at his old friend, tirelessly holding open the path, then at his adoptive brother, who seemed to be assessing the situation with unsettling precision. For a moment, a rare look of melancholy crossed Jing Yuan’s face.
Chen Lin wasn’t pressuring him, but the weight of the situation was evident in Jing Yuan’s demeanor. The risks were far greater than he had anticipated.
“Brother,” Jing Yuan finally said, “the challenges facing Luofu this time are far more dire than I’d ever imagined… When we arrived here—”
Chen Lin interrupted, cutting to the heart of the matter. “It was obvious. Vidyadhara deathsworn, trained to act like mindless machines. They follow orders with unwavering loyalty, even going so far as to commit suicide to avoid capture. Someone spent a great deal of effort creating them.
“And they were prepared,” Chen Lin added, his voice darkening. “Too prepared. The third seal wasn’t just sabotaged—it’s been completely destroyed. Dan Heng has to manually sustain it for it to function at all. On top of that, they tampered with the final seal to the Arbor’s core. Now he has to suppress the chaotic dragonforce just to keep the path open.”
Jing Yuan frowned. Until now, he hadn’t pieced together the full scope of their enemies’ machinations. Hearing it laid out like this, he couldn’t help but marvel at how intricate their plans were.
“They knew exactly what they were doing,” Chen Lin continued. “Force him into isolation, overwhelm him with numbers, and trap you in the Arbor’s depths. While they’re at it, they might as well appoint a new general for Luofu, right?”
Jing Yuan’s voice dropped to a wry mutter. “To think, after all these years, just the sight of him is enough to make some people lose sleep. I suspected something like this might happen—that’s why I didn’t tell you beforehand. And yet… somehow, they still got wind of it.” He chuckled bitterly. “A poorly swept house embarrasses its owner. I apologize for the state of things.”
Chen Lin gave him a look but quickly shook his head. “Dan Heng needs to be protected—that’s non-negotiable. Don’t beat yourself up over this. We’ll deal with it later. For now, we need to get into the Arbor’s core and either kill or drive out Phantylia.”
Turning toward March 7th and Stelle, Chen Lin’s expression hardened. “March, Stelle. Stay here and guard Dan Heng with everything you’ve got. According to what I extracted earlier, there are still deathsworn lurking in the Waterscape. They’re waiting for Dan Heng to be too focused on maintaining the seals to fight back. Don’t let them get near him. If they do, we’re all in deep trouble.”
Phantylia had been entrenched in the Arbor’s core for who knew how long. Whatever she had been doing, it was likely she had grown even stronger. If Dan Heng were disrupted and the seal broke entirely, the consequences would be catastrophic.
Chen Lin didn’t want to gamble with everyone’s lives. He had to make sure every detail was accounted for.
Both March 7th and Stelle understood the gravity of the situation. Neither hesitated, their determination clear in their expressions. From the moment they had entered the Scalegorge Waterscape, everyone had been prepared for the worst. Whatever the outcome, it would be a result of their choices.
Seeing their resolute nods, Chen Lin turned to Welt. “Uncle Yang, would you mind staying here to oversee things?”
Welt adjusted his glasses, his calm, analytical tone cutting through the tension. “The deathsworn are hardly a threat to these two. They can handle it. On the other hand, where you’re heading is the real danger. I promised Himeko I’d bring you all back safely, and I intend to keep that promise.”
Chen Lin grinned, appreciating the unwavering support. “Alright. Let’s get moving, then.”
The trio quickly fell into formation, with Chen Lin sandwiched between the two taller men.
“You don’t need me to babysit you anymore, huh?” Jing Yuan mused, his tone light.
“You should focus on training Fu Xuan instead,” Chen Lin quipped. “I’ve got a whole colony to manage when I get back—more work than I can handle.”
“Hah! Fair enough. Still, perhaps it’s time Fu Xuan started taking on more responsibility,” Jing Yuan said with a chuckle.
Their banter was interrupted by a thunderous roar.
A deep, resonant sound erupted from above, starting like a distant storm and ending with the weight of a tolling bell. It was unmistakable—the roar of a dragon.
The raw, primal sound sent shivers down their spines, its oppressive majesty demanding attention. Even Chen Lin, as composed as he was, felt the sound vibrate through his very core.
When the roar faded, he lifted his gaze. The crimson dragon shadow had vanished, replaced by a radiant white void. The path to the Arbor’s heart had been fully opened.
Dan Heng hovered slightly above the ground, his pale face glistening with sweat. His efforts had brought them this far, but the toll on his body was undeniable. He trembled as he struggled to maintain a composed façade, but no one was fooled by his brave front.
March 7th and Stelle took their positions—one guarding the passage, the other staying close to Dan Heng. Over time, the two had developed an unspoken understanding, their teamwork seamless.
As Chen Lin, Welt, and Jing Yuan passed by, Dan Heng’s faint voice reached them.
“Leave this to me… Sorry… I can’t go any further.”
Welt and Jing Yuan gave him a respectful nod. Chen Lin, however, simply raised a hand, forming an “OK” sign before continuing onward.
Their silhouettes grew smaller and smaller until they vanished into the blinding white light of the Arbor’s core.
—
Standing guard by the passage, Stelle glanced over her shoulder, her amber eyes filled with unease. She clutched her chest, her expression wavering between calm and distress.
“Stelle, are you okay? Do you feel sick or something?” March 7th asked, noticing her friend’s discomfort.
Stelle shook her head, biting her lip as she stole one last glance toward the now-distant path. Her voice was small and trembling.
“I… I didn’t want Linlin to go. He didn’t let me follow him, but I wanted to help him…”
March 7th opened her mouth to respond but found herself at a loss for words.
—
The smoke rises heavier than before; the rain scatters lightly in return.
For a fleeting moment, Chen Lin felt that this poetic line perfectly encapsulated the environment they had stepped into.
Beneath their feet was no solid ground, only a sea of swirling mist that billowed and surged like waves. Yet, inexplicably, the mist supported their steps as if it were solid earth. All around them, colossal roots extended skyward, their emerald leaves unfurling like banners.
Some of the branches already bore leaves the size of small houses, their surfaces glowing faintly. Each glance revealed subtle changes—roots thickened, leaves grew larger—an endless cycle of growth that seemed to defy natural laws.
This was the Ambrosial Arbor’s natural state: perpetual and unyielding growth. If one were to film this and play it back at high speed, no one would doubt it was a three-thousand-times fast-forward of reality.
Welt, observing the surroundings with a critical eye, remarked, “At this rate, if the seals weren’t containing it, the Arbor’s roots would overrun the Xianzhou in a matter of days.”
“Could this be Phantylia’s doing—” Chen Lin began, only for Jing Yuan to interject.
“No,” the general said calmly. “This is the Arbor’s true nature, accelerated perhaps by the presence of a Stellaron, but still inherent to its power. When the Xianzhou first acquired the Ambrosial Arbor, its growth pierced the heavens at a staggering pace. At the time, the Arbor’s influence spread across all of Luofu, filling it with vitality. Plants thrived everywhere—some wrapped themselves around buildings, others bore flowers and fruits of every kind. For a decade, Luofu was a paradise teeming with life. We even began calling it ‘Greenfloat.’
“But this abundance was short-lived. Within ten years, the people of the Xianzhou began to see the cost of immortality gifted by Abundance. The Arbor was sealed away, and every plant it had spawned was destroyed. That is why, today, the most common plant you’ll find in Luofu is a holographic potted plant, developed jointly by the Master Diviner’s office and the Artisanship Commission.”
Chen Lin listened quietly, his gaze thoughtful as he processed Jing Yuan’s explanation.
“So,” Chen Lin murmured, “the Arbor’s power isn’t limited to one ship. There are six Xianzhou ships… which means there are six calamities like this out there.”
He stroked his chin, his mind racing with possibilities. If I could study one of these Arbors, could it be used to terraform a dead planet?
Jing Yuan chuckled, seeing the look of curiosity on Chen Lin’s face. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. Not all Xianzhou calamities are Ambrosial Arbors. They each take a different form.”
“That’s a shame.”
Chen Lin sighed, letting go of the idea. The Xianzhou treated the Arbor as a calamity, and their caution left no room for experiments. Even with his close ties to Jing Yuan, he’d never be granted the privilege of studying such a dangerous entity.
If he were in their position, he wouldn’t allow it either.
“Well, it’s not like there’s a shortage of interesting things in the galaxy,” Chen Lin thought aloud. “Psionics, the Zero Dimension, genetic longevity, mechanical immortality… they’re all safer and more practical than this.”
Despite their seemingly leisurely pace, the trio moved swiftly. Before long, they reached the Arbor’s deepest chamber.
At the heart of the chamber floated a sinister yet beautiful spectacle: a giant crimson lotus made of wood, spinning slowly in midair. At its center burned a cold, ghostly blue flame, flickering with an eerie familiarity.
Chen Lin narrowed his eyes. The flame bore a striking resemblance to the essence of Phantylia that he had confronted before. There was no doubt—this was her true form.
A languid voice broke the silence, echoing through the chamber.
“Oh? Only three of you? I wonder, do these footsteps belong to the General of Luofu and the Master Diviner?”
Jing Yuan stepped forward, drawing his long blade with a sharp metallic hiss. His expression was steely, his tone frosty.
“Dealing with trespassers in the Xianzhou’s sacred grounds doesn’t require both of us. Phantylia, the Abyssal Lock that held Succession can easily imprison you as well!”
A low chuckle echoed, rising into a mocking laugh.
“Hahaha~ Such bold words! Oh? That scent… How familiar. So the benefactor who once ‘helped’ me is here too?” Phantylia’s voice dripped with playful malice. “My, my, I should’ve dressed up for the occasion. But no matter! Why don’t we have a little chat about who’s capturing whom, hm?”
She didn’t mention her prior dealings with Chen Lin. She knew him too well—he wouldn’t have come here without careful preparation. Any attempt to sow discord between him and Jing Yuan or Welt would only earn her ridicule.
But now, she didn’t need deception to tip the scales in her favor.
For the first time in eons, she had a physical body. And with it, she believed herself invincible.
—
This is a fan translation of 在星穹铁道点群星科技树真的没问题吗? by 杏雨诗韵 All rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!
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