SWNOVELXO Chapter 195: Chapter 196: A City Replanted
Chapter 196: A City Replanted
The sky above Lilyshade had changed.
There was no sun now. No familiar constellations. No drifting clouds overhead. Instead, a luminous aurora swept gently across the heavens, a dome of gold and violet flame threaded with stars that moved too slowly to be natural. It wasn't sky. It was soullight—living mana painted across a world grown from someone's will.
Yet beneath that sky, the city still stood.
The same streets. The same homes. The same fountains that murmured the names of old gods. Lilyshade had not been rebuilt.
It had been moved.
And now it rested inside a realm made of one man's soul.
—
At first, no one believed it.
Some wept, thinking they had died.
Others dropped to their knees in prayer, fearing divine retribution. But as the hours passed, their doubts fell away one by one.
The baker's oven still burned.
The wells still drew water.
The wind still carried the scent of spiceroot and morning dew.
And more than that—it carried mana.
Thick. Clean. Pure.
—
In the Scholar's Quarter, a group of dreamscribes stood atop the observatory tower, staring out into the impossible distance. Beyond the edge of the city, a strange forest shimmered like mirrored glass. Floating cliffs drifted lazily through the sky. Waterfalls spilled upward instead of down, only to arc and rejoin the rivers below.
"This world…" whispered one archivist, "isn't made from stone and stars."
Another answered, voice reverent, "It's made from intention."
And further down the tower, a junior scribe simply said what none of them could deny:
"We're not in the world anymore."
"We're in his."
—
Merchants cautiously opened their stalls by midday. Not because they fully understood—but because Asmodeus walked the streets again.
No crown. No ceremonial garb.
Just a simple robe, silver and soft, her hair braided loosely down her back.
And Isaac walked beside her.
Silent.
Steady.
Unmistakable.
Children stopped playing to stare.
Mothers whispered. Guards straightened their posture. No one questioned the safety of the city when the one who had moved it walked calmly among them.
—
Even the stubborn found themselves shaken.
In the western gardens, a priestess of the Old Grove knelt by one of the transplanted trees, tears in her eyes.
"It won't take root," she whispered. "The earth doesn't know it. It won't remember how to grow."
Isaac heard her as he passed.
He knelt beside her, silent.
Placed one hand on the soil.
A breath passed.
Then the roots deepened. The bark shimmered faintly. Mana flowed through the veins of the tree like blood returning to a sleeping limb.
The priestess stared at him.
"You… it responds to you."
"No," Asmodeus said quietly from behind. "It is him."
—
As the day stretched on, the effects became undeniable.
Spellcasting became easier. Even young apprentices could feel it—the mana didn't resist them like it did before. It welcomed their touch. Enhanced it. Carried their will like a favored echo.
A druid cast a simple growth spell on a rosebud. It bloomed into a full tree in seconds, its blossoms glowing with pale fire.
A field medic channeled a healing ritual and watched an infected wound close without scarring.
An old conjurer laughed and said, "I haven't felt this kind of magic since I was a boy."
—
And then came the discoveries.
The biologists were the first to venture beyond the outer ridge of the city. What they found defied classification.
A forest where the trees had bark like polished obsidian but leaves that shimmered like liquid gold.
Vines that pulsed with light—warm, friendly, reactive to thought.
Moss that glowed with a soft blue hue and formed words in ancient runes when touched.
Glass lilies with translucent petals that hummed at night in harmony with the stars overhead.
No books described them.
No map knew them.
This wasn't just fertile land.
It was untouched creation.
Alive with potential.
—
In the barracks, Commander Solven stood with his arms crossed, watching his troops train in the newly stabilized yard. The sky shimmered faintly above them, and the training posts automatically adjusted their position based on each soldier's speed and strength.
He grunted.
"I don't know what kind of place this is," he said to his lieutenant. "But I'll say this: the only thing harder than defending Lilyshade was keeping it alive."
He looked out over the glistening fields of Emberlight.
"This place… it doesn't just protect us."
"It wants us to thrive."
—
Night came.
The city glowed softly—not with fire, but with magic.
Streetlamps flickered with blue and violet flame, requiring no fuel.
Lanterns floated freely in the air along major roads, hovering like patient stars.
In the taverns, music resumed. Not triumphant. Not festive. But warm. Grounded. Survivors, at last, beginning to believe they had not escaped death…
But been given a new beginning.
—
And high above it all, Isaac stood at the balcony of his soulhome with Asmodeus beside him.
He watched them—his people, though he would never use the word.
They didn't worship him.
They didn't kneel.
They simply lived.
And that was enough.
He turned slightly and whispered to her, "Do you think they'll accept this world?"
Asmodeus looked out over the city, where new lights bloomed every hour.
"They already have," she said. "You gave them safety. But more than that…"
She smiled.
"You gave them wonder."
—
Lilyshade had not merely been saved.
It had been replanted.
In a world of soul and flame.
And now… it would bloom.