I Have Lived This Life with a Clear Conscience

The process of cultivating the seed was far longer than the process of obtaining it.

For a very long time, nothing happened at all. Every day—"every day" in grid time—Ron injected it with a fixed amount of "quiet" necromantic aura.

But it did not move, like a gray stone picked up at random from the roadside.

"Are you sure it isn't dead?" Aselia asked.

"It wasn't exactly 'alive' to begin with.

"This seed is something between life and death. You can't judge it by conventional standards."

"Then what standard do you use?"

"Patience."

Aselia wanted to roll her eyes, but unfortunately, she had no eyes to roll.

The turning point appeared during a routine observation. The surface of the seed began to change.

Ron immediately intensified his observation.

Spirit Realm Perception showed that some kind of structural reorganization was taking place inside the seed.

It was "digesting" the necromantic aura that had been injected into it.

The memories of natural death carried by those specific necromantic auras—autumn leaves falling, an old man sleeping peacefully, the tide receding...

All that information was being "eaten" by the seed, bit by bit.

"It's learning what 'death' is supposed to look like."

Soon, the seed split open, and a bone-like filament poked out from the crack.

That filament drilled downward into the soil, while a corresponding root system in the Spirit Realm grew in sync.

The roots in the material world and the roots in the Spirit Realm mirrored each other, extending together.

"Taking root in two realms."

At that moment, Ron's eyes were filled with the satisfaction of seeing a research achievement finally bloom and bear fruit.

The dream Barnabas had failed to realize after exhausting his entire life, the hypothesis Alexander had traded his life for...

The ultimate goal countless necromantic Wizards