The excitement in the air shattered instantly. Leo froze, his smile dying on his lips.
Jorunn stepped close to Scott, her grey eyes hard and serious. She grabbed his shoulder, her grip like iron.
"Listen to me. All of you." She looked at Leo and Elara, ensuring she had their absolute attention.
"This is a miracle," she hissed, her voice low so it wouldn't carry down the tunnel. "But on Sporos, a miracle for the weak is a beacon for the wolves."
"If the large settlements, or the Warlords of the decayed zones, find out that we have a newly awakened Innate Sporeborn… They will come to enslave him."
Elara gasped, clutching Scott's arm tighter.
"Aunt Jorunn is right," Scott said, his face grave.
He knew this better than anyone; in the game, players with rare abilities were often hunted by NPCs for resources.
"Good," Jorunn said. "Then we keep this circle small. The official story is that the Heartwood Tree performed a miracle in response to your sacrifice."
She then glared at Leo. "Boy, if you breathe a word of 'Innate Sporeborn' to anyone, even your own mother, I will stitch your mouth shut with thorny-vines. Do you understand?"
"I... yes, Ma'am," Leo stammered, pale again. "I swear."
"And you, Scott," Jorunn's gaze softened just a fraction. "We need to get you to the Elders as soon as they wake."
"We need to plan. If the tree is weakened, the barrier might also weaken its effects against alien spore storms and the creatures of the decay. We have a lot of work to do."
"I know," Scott said. He looked at the withering leaves again.
When he habitually checked the attributes of the Heartwood Tree to find a solution, he found that the Heartwood Tree was fine, it's just exhausted.
He had a plan for the Heartwood tree, too… But for that, he needs to wait for a few days for the Heartwood tree to recover its life energy back to full.
"We need to start moving the families from the upper branches immediately," Jorunn said, her mind already shifting to logistics. "If the Heartwood is exhausted, the wind barrier will shrink. The roots are the safest place."
"I agree," Scott replied, keeping his voice low. "The underground caves are stable. We can set up a temporary camp there until the tree recovers."
Just as they were finalizing the plan, the heavy, grinding sound of the cultivation chamber's door sliding open cut through the noise.
The conversation in the corridor died instantly. The groaning of the dying leaves seemed to fade, replaced by a collective intake of breath from the villagers gathered nearby.
Jorunn turned, her eyes widening in genuine shock.
Three figures stepped out of the room. They were the three Elders who had been carried in on stretchers just hours ago, burned out and dying.
The man in the lead, Alistair, had to duck slightly to clear the doorframe. He stood tall, his back straight and his shoulders broad and powerful.
His skin, which had been grey and wrinkled like old parchment, was now flush with color and health.
His hair, previously a thin, snowy white, had thickened into a dense mane of steel gray.
The loose robes they wore, which had hung off their skeletal frames earlier, now looked tight against their chests and arms.
They didn't look like men at the end of their lives; they looked like warriors in their absolute prime, their bodies radiating a quiet but intense pressure that made the air around them feel heavy.
Leo stared, his mouth hanging open.
"Grandfather?" he whispered.
Alistair looked over, his eyes sharp and clear, free of the cloudiness of age. He gave Leo a small, reassuring nod.
He didn't know exactly what Scott had done. He only remembered the green light and the sudden, overwhelming surge of power.
But right now, he could feel it in every fiber of his being. The wheezing in his chest was gone.
In fact as a First Ordered Sporeborn with a maximum lifespan of more than 120 years, he was just considered as a middle aged person.
However, due to the cost of using the secret technique to burn his lifespan, he became how he was before.
But now, he felt like he wasn't just healed. He felt stronger than he had been even thirty years ago.
He felt like a complete reborn, returning back to his prime.
Alistair even felt like he could easily defeat the Tiger zombie or himself who was using the secret technique very easily.
This is the strong confidence brought by the upgrade to his Mycelium Heart and the Bull's Frame genes.
Life energy storage and recovery rate +351% brought by the Mycelium Heart, together with 1305% improvement to his base physical attributes thanks to Bull's Frame.
That is an unimaginable improvement, and he can be considered as a little superman, if he were to be on Earth right now.
"Report, Jorunn," he said. His voice was no longer the dry, raspy whisper of an old man.
It was a deep, resonant bass that vibrated in the chests of everyone standing nearby, commanding instant authority.
Jorunn blinked as she stared at the man who, only hours ago, she had prepared to bury.
She shook her head, forcing herself back to the moment.
"Alright, nothing to see here!" she shouted, turning to the gathering crowd, her authority snapping back into place.
"Clear the hallway! Give the Elders room to breathe! Go help with the evacuation!"
As the reluctant villagers shuffled away, casting awed glances over their shoulders, Jorunn ushered the three Elders and Scott's group into a tighter circle.
Keeping her voice to a hushed whisper, she quickly briefed Alistair and the others on the situation: the shaking of the Heartwood Tree, the depletion of its energy, and Scott's awakening.
The Elders listened intently, their eyes widening with joy and astonishment as they looked at the young Lord.
They felt the surging power within their own bodies, proof enough of his claim.
However, decades of survival had made them wise.
They immediately grasped the deadly implications Jorunn had warned about.
As she guessed, if word got out that a single man could bestow this kind of power, their small camp would be overrun by warlords within the week, unless they are strong enough to fend them all off.
However, even with his current strength, he knew he was not a match against any true Second Ordered Lifeforms.
"We understand," he rumbled softly. Alistair exchanged a knowing look with the other two Elders.
"Scott is the future of this camp, but for now, he is not strong enough or we are not strong enough to expose the truth."
"This miracle... belongs to the Heartwood Tree. It sacrificed its vitality to save us all. That is the truth."
With the pact sealed, the tension in the group eased slightly.
Leo, who had been hovering nervously, finally couldn't hold back any longer.
He took a step forward, staring at his grandfather with wide eyes.
"Grandpa," Leo asked, his voice trembling with shock, "how are you feeling now?"
"Hahaha!" Alistair threw his head back, a booming laugh erupting from his chest that filled the corridor with life and disbelief. "Haha Kid, I feel many times stronger than I have in decades!"
As he spoke, he stepped away from the group, eager to test the huge amounts of energy humming under his skin.
He planted his feet and punched straight into the empty space in front of him.
CRACK!
A sharp sound, like a whip snapping, echoed through the hall.
Everyone flinched. The air around his fist had compressed and exploded with the speed of the blow.
A faint, visible shimmer of force rippled out from his knuckles, disturbing the dust on the floor.
"Incredible..." Alistair whispered, staring at his own fist.
He experimented further, throwing a quick combination of jabs and hooks.
Snap-snap-snap!
His movements were a blur, faster than his old eyes could have tracked just yesterday.
It wasn't just raw strength. He could feel it, his stamina wasn't dropping, his breath remained steady, and the life energy in his body was recovering at a frightening speed.
He felt invincible, his defense and recovery fortified beyond anything he had ever known as a standard First Order Sporeborn.
"I feel like I could easily fight head on with a first order Grave Horn Bull with my bare hands," Alistair said, grinning like a young man who had just gained his first gene.
Alistair finally lowered his fist, his gaze sweeping over the crowd and landing on Scott.
He walked over and placed a heavy, steady hand on Scott's shoulder.
"Whatever happened in that chamber," he said, his voice low and full of gratitude, "the camp owes you a debt that can never be repaid."
Scott simply nodded, accepting the praise. "We all survived," he said, his voice calm and even. "That's all that matters."