I left the old place as myriad volcanoes started to erupt all the way around the place where Marianne was now resting in peace.

It managed to suppress the main explosion, but its roots where very large and long, and the smaller tunnels around it couldn’t be suppressed with its power alone.

Enormous volcanoes grew from the earth, dividing the continent and changing all of Tiphoons’ surface.

Some of them erupted in amazing pyroclastic explosions, mostly those located at the periphery of the continent, but the majority just split the earth while oozing lava all around.

My old array kept fueling Qi to the center of the old continent, so the consistency of the rocks near its center was softer than it was at the edges.

The spilling lava from the soft rock, of course, flowed down the great continental basin, covering the World Trees’ hollow trunk in molten rock. Some of it also catch fire, releasing powerfully toxic fumes, full of death energy, but most was too magical for the fire to burn.

Instead, it was buried deep underground, with some of it still visible at the surface, long after the old tunnels calmed down and the volcanoes slowly died.

What was meant to become a collection of small islands turned into a huge cemetery with some smaller lands slowly growing away from it.

Huge mountains, deep undersea volcanoes and sea trenches appeared, affecting the whole world.

But even with all of that, the main explosion had been avoided and a incalculable amount of small lives, unworthy of being kept at Tiphoons’ surface at the time of the Dark Era, where saved.

From bacteria to full grown dragons and half-dragons.

So many lives had been saved with the World Trees’ sacrifice, those amongst them with reason started to worship it as the Savior God of the weak and poor.

Indeed, it had sacrificed itself for the good of the weak and unworthy. I smiled as I already knew where to place Mariannes’ old Seed of Reason.

As a last farewell gift to it, I flew to a place where a big chunk of thought and magical energy was starting to gather.

The small fetus of a potential demi-god.

How proud am I of my current creations? How proud am I of these unworthy insects and dogs, incapable of nourishing their own seeds even after a billion years have passed?

Enough to undo the ironic misery of them worshipping a god without any resemblance to the original being whose life was sacrificed for their well-being.