Emily Stone said, “In fact, the Nascent Soul is a privilege reserved for a very small number of people. The vast majority only reach the Golden Core stage. From forming the core in their twenties to facing death at over a hundred, they spend nearly a century slowly refining their core, only to watch it gradually decline, until the core disperses and they die. To advance to the Nascent Soul and extend life by another hundred years, you must get state approval.”

　　Lucas Warren was puzzled. “Why?”

　　“Because the excessive pursuit of individual power would repeat the mistakes of the old Immortal Era,” Emily Stone said. “This world no longer needs immortals, and we really don’t want to be smashed by the Immortal Realm again.”

　　“Even so, restricting individual power to the Nascent Soul stage seems a bit overcorrected.”

　　Emily Stone said, “Is the Nascent Soul not enough? Compared to ordinary people with no cultivation, or beginners who have just drawn in spiritual energy, a Nascent Soul is already like a natural disaster. In a stable, highly organized society, there’s no need for such powerful individuals. And collective strength will be even greater than that of the immortals of the past.”

　　Emily Stone’s tone was calm and unruffled, but the confidence of the era that came through in her words was deeply moving.

　　Collective strength greater than immortals? Lucas Warren found it hard to agree with such a fanciful idea. Thousands of Foundation Establishment and Golden Core cultivators might be impressive, but that was nowhere near enough to make up the gap with a true immortal.

　　Let alone a genuine Celestial Lord of the Heavenly Court—even a peak Earth Immortal at the Great Ascension stage had wiped out entire cultivation clans single-handedly before. Hundreds of Golden Cores and a dozen Nascent Soul and Spirit Transformation cultivators, forming an unprecedented clan formation under the command of a Fusion-stage powerhouse, still couldn’t withstand a full-force blow from a Great Ascension cultivator.

　　Others might not understand this, but how could Senior Sister Olivia Warren not understand?

　　But soon, Lucas Warren’s doubts gradually faded.

　　Because as the bone carriage officially entered the urban district of Rongcheng, the most prosperous and dazzling side of this new world was finally revealed to him up close.

　　A surge of incredibly dense spiritual energy filled the air, no less than any of the famous sect paradises of the past. In such an environment, even an ordinary person with mediocre talent could, after decades of immersion, develop some basic immortal arts.

　　Amidst this rich spiritual energy, towering and radiant buildings stood shoulder to shoulder, supporting a realm of dazzling immortal light.

　　These buildings were constructed from some mysterious material, their surfaces flowing with a crystal-clear, silky radiance. Against the night, they looked like flawless jade. And among the jade structures stood an ancient, sky-piercing tree, its massive branches literally “reaching into the clouds,” as if connecting with the heavens.

　　Lucas Warren had never seen such a magnificent sight, not even in paintings depicting the Immortal Realm, not even in the Heavenly Court crafted by the Immortal Ancestor Chicheng’s own hand...

　　Meanwhile, Emily Stone had already closed her notebook and softly explained, “That is the Jianmu, which houses the city’s highest authority. Every city within Lucas Warren is built outward from a Jianmu as its center. Rongcheng’s Jianmu is the oldest in Lucas Warren, the first stop in Lingzhou’s reconstruction after the Heavenly Tribulation. At that time, Lord Olivia named the city Rongcheng, taking the meaning of a young deer growing antlers—full of vitality.”

　　Lucas Warren nodded slowly. This naming style did indeed have a touch of Olivia Warren’s flavor.

　　Although the scene before him was no longer about a young deer growing antlers. After a thousand years, Rongcheng was more like a set of sharp antlers, its jade-like buildings resembling a forest of exquisite swords. Yet faintly, Lucas Warren seemed to see, a thousand years ago, a proud woman planting a tender sapling in a wasteland, declaring it would be the starting point of a new world.

　　The next moment, the light outside the window suddenly dimmed. The bone carriage had left the main road, black as silk, and turned into a winding, shadowy side path.

　　In an instant, the splendid city seemed to be cut off from another world.

　　Emily Stone said, “Ah, we’re almost there.”

　　The bone carriage stopped with a sickening sound of flesh and bone scraping against the ground. A cold wind blew through the compartment, and a shrill woman’s voice drifted in.

　　“Final stop, Wanxin Bridge. Please take all your personal organs with you. See you again in the Underworld…”

　　Emily Stone’s mouth twitched, and she forced herself not to say anything that might be considered sectarian discrimination, leading Lucas Warren off the carriage.

　　After the two got off, the ghostly flames around the bone carriage flickered, as if tearing open an invisible door. Then, the entire carriage gradually faded from sight.

　　Before it completely disappeared, Lucas Warren saw the skeleton driver bowing respectfully to him...

　　“So polite,” Lucas Warren praised.

　　“It really is. I’ve never heard of the Underworld Path being so polite before—maybe their losses have been too heavy lately,” Emily Stone sighed. “Hopefully they won’t really go out of business. Besides them, it’s hard to find such a cheap and convenient bus.”

　　Lucas Warren was a bit curious. “It’s not that far from Lingshan to here. With your Foundation Establishment speed, you could easily walk back and forth.”

　　Emily Stone sighed again. “I could, but it would use up more true essence, and the extra food expenses would be much higher than the bus fare…”