The successful healing of the Sunken Reefs became another quiet legend attributed to the "Farmer's Domain." The Jade Empire, upon the safe return of their envoy and sacred seed, sent a formal tribute to the Kingdom of Eldoria—not of gold, but of rare horticultural knowledge and a collection of their own unique, non-magical seeds, a gift that Ren treasured far more than any treasure.
Kael's confidence grew. He was no longer just an apprentice but a true custodian of the balance, often handling minor ecological disturbances himself, with Lyra as his steadfast guardian. Ren was able to settle back into his cherished routine, focusing on his ever-expanding interdimensional garden and his quiet life. The years continued to spool by, marked by the changing seasons and the steady, peaceful rhythm of the farm.
One day, something felt different.
It wasn't a threat or an incursion. It was a profound and sudden silence in the cosmic background noise. Ren felt it as a gardener feels the first frost in the air—an intangible shift that signals the end of a season.
He was in his study, sketching a design for a self-peeling potato, when the familiar blue screen of his System flickered into existence. But this time, it was weak, its light wavering, the text struggling to form.
[SYSTEM... ANNOUNCEMENT...] the words appeared, glitching slightly. [A... communication... from... the... Sponsor...]
The air in the room grew heavy, and the disembodied, cheerful voice of the Bored Primordial Entity echoed, not with its usual booming confidence, but with a tired, fading resonance.
[Hey... farmer. Funny seeing you again. Listen... running out of time here. The show's... almost over.]
"What do you mean?" Ren asked the empty room, a sense of unease growing within him. "What's wrong?"
[Turns out... creating universes... and rebooting them when they get boring... takes a lot of energy,] the Entity's voice was a weary sigh. [I'm a Primordial. Not an eternal one. My spark... it's fading. Going out. It was a good run. The part with the composting was my favorite.]
The implications of the words struck Ren with a force greater than any physical blow. The being that had created his new life, the architect of his reality, was dying.
"Is there anything I can do?" Ren asked, his mind racing. "A plant that can restore you? A fruit?"
[Ha! I appreciate the thought. But I'm a bit beyond what a tomato can fix,] the Entity chuckled weakly. [My existence is conceptual. When I'm gone, I'm gone. But... that's why I'm calling. There's a bit of... cosmic paperwork to sort out.]
The System screen flickered again. [Your existence, your 'System,' your powers... they were all anchored to my own being. A direct feed of my conceptual authority. When my spark goes out... that anchor will be gone.]
A cold dread settled in Ren's stomach. "My powers? Will I... lose them?"
[Yes. And no,] the Entity explained. [The direct feed will be cut. The 'System' interface will shut down. The overpowered, reality-bending 'cheats' will be gone. But the things you've *built*... the things you've *become*... that's a different story. Your farm, your domain, the life you've nurtured... it has generated its own power, its own reality. You've spent decades cultivating your own, smaller, stable source of conceptual energy. It's a candle to my sun, but it's yours. You won't be a god who can stop a river with a thought anymore. You'll just be... a really, *really* good farmer.]
The Entity paused, gathering its fading strength. [But there's a problem. Your apprentice. Kael.]
Ren's heart clenched. "What about him?"
[His existence is a paradox, a fusion of two powerful echoes that you balanced. That balance is actively maintained by your overwhelming, god-tier power. When your power recedes to its 'natural' state... that balance might fail. The ghosts of the Lich and the Spore-Shepherd could reassert themselves. He could be torn apart, or become a monster far worse than either of his 'parents.']
This was the Entity's final, terrible warning. Ren's own power loss was an inconvenience; Kael's potential destruction was a tragedy.
"What can I do?" Ren pleaded.
[There is... one way,] the voice was getting very faint now. [A transfer. You have one last, great act of 'godhood' left in you before the anchor dissolves. You can take the core of your own divine spark—the very thing that makes you 'overpowered'—and use it to permanently stabilize him. You can ground his paradoxical nature in your own essence, making his balance absolute and unshakable. Forever.]
The choice was laid bare. Ren could keep a remnant of his reality-bending power, becoming a still-legendary figure of immense skill. Or, he could sacrifice the very core of his godhood to save the boy he had come to see as a son.
[It would mean you truly become what you always wanted to be,] the Entity whispered, its voice fading to static. [Just a man on a farm. No divine tricks. No easy answers. Just you, the soil, and the life you've nurtured. It's the ultimate retirement plan.]
The voice was almost gone. [The choice... is yours, farmer. Make it a good one. It's... been... fun...]
With a final, gentle fizzle, the System screen vanished forever. The voice was gone. A profound silence fell, and Ren could feel it—the severing of the cosmic anchor. The immense, effortless wellspring of power he had always taken for granted was gone. He felt... smaller. More mortal. But his farm, his domain, still hummed with the quiet, steady power it had cultivated on its own.
He stood there for a long time. The choice wasn't a choice at all. It never had been.
He walked out of his house and found Kael, who was now a young man, calmly pruning the Crystal Lotus. Kael looked up, sensing the shift in Ren immediately.
"Master Ren? What is it? Your light... it has dimmed."
Ren smiled, a gentle, paternal expression on his face. "The season is changing, Kael. It's time for the final harvest. And the final planting."
He placed his hand on Kael's shoulder. "You've been a good apprentice. Now, it's time for you to become a master."
He closed his eyes and reached deep inside himself, to the last, glittering remnant of the Primordial's divine spark. He took that star of impossible power, the engine of all his miracles, and with a final, selfless act of will, he gently pushed it from his own soul and planted it within the waiting, balanced heart of his student.
It was his final, and greatest, act of cultivation.