There were two kinds of worlds.
One was the world within the bounds of knowledge; the other was the world beyond them.
The Six Continents, the Explored Seas, the Undeveloped Seas, the Hypothetical Continent Group, the Dark Seas, and the Dark Continent.
Together, they made up the world in its truest sense.
Yet each "part of the world" was separated by a boundary.
Such boundaries could represent taboos, danger, or isolation...
Humanity's understanding of the present world was itself the result of those divisions.
And boundaries could divide regions just as they divided the world.
The Boundary Guardian Plant before him was one manifestation of such a boundary.
Its existence...
Was it necessary?
Don Freecss had pondered that question before, but he had never reached a conclusion.
Compared with the whole of the Dark Continent, he was far too insignificant.
As insignificant as an unremarkable cell within a human body.
He could not judge the purpose of the Boundary Guardian Plant's existence, but he knew that the Dark Continent's ecosystems were unimaginably complex, and their chaos defied conventional reasoning.
Perhaps the Boundary Guardian Plant existed to carve a thread of order out of that chaos?
There was no way to know the answer.
Don Freecss withdrew his gaze from a certain direction and quietly studied the thick root lying across the hillside.
This boundary could divide regions and even ecosystems, yet it could not stop humanity's footsteps, nor those of other intelligent creatures.
Tap, tap—
Don Freecss walked up to the thick root, raised a hand, and tore a vine from the "lichen" growing parasitically over his body. It pulsed as steadily as a heartbeat.
"..."
After pausing before the root for several seconds, Don Freecss suddenly tossed the vine into the air.
In an instant, the root whose purpose