Chapter 50: Planting Trees Across the Globe and the Trial of Life and Death

“This power…” Melinda said in astonishment, then instinctively formed a hand seal. “Byakugan.”

“Make good use of this power,” Yang Xin said, patting Melinda’s shoulder. Then, from the four-dimensional pocket, he pulled out a Mark II Iron Man suit and handed it to her. “Director Nick will have arrangements for you.”

With that, Yang Xin nodded to Nick Fury, then left with Coulson and Natasha. First, he had Natasha use the four-dimensional pocket to complete the supplies and weaponry Nick Fury had promised. Afterward, he and Coulson boarded the Quinjet, flying around the globe to plant trees.

The pace was far too slow. To increase efficiency, Yang Xin took the risk of using the Multi-Shadow Clone Technique. He had already braced himself for the impending headache, even reserving a hospital bed at S.H.I.E.L.D.’s infirmary. At that moment, the passive skill from Captain America—Brave Heart—activated.

Once Brave Heart was triggered, after releasing the clones, everything the clones had experienced played back in Yang Xin’s mind like films; for ten clones, it was like watching ten movies, with the option to fast-forward…

Even if attacked and forced to dispel, the supposed feedback of pain or injury from the clones to the original, as per the usual rules, simply did not manifest in Yang Xin’s case.

He’d tested this: first, by having Coulson shoot one of his shadow clones—when the clone vanished, Yang Xin felt nothing; then, when Coulson, transformed into the Time Warrior, slashed one of his clones, he again felt nothing.

If a clone stepped on a landmine—gone, but Yang Xin felt nothing. Hit by a shell—gone, no sensation. Struck by ninjutsu—gone, still nothing. Caught in genjutsu—gone, still nothing.

“Hahaha… This is a real cheat code!” Yang Xin laughed toward the sky. He also discovered a peculiarity: clones created by Coulson and the others followed the rules established in Naruto, each with its own consciousness. But Yang Xin’s clones had no minds of their own; they were like AI, strictly prioritizing the completion of his commands, acting solely by his will.

What would have taken dozens of days, or even longer, to plant the Divine Tree’s branches at every S.H.I.E.L.D. facility worldwide, Yang Xin accomplished in less than a week, having created three hundred shadow clones in a mad frenzy.

Of course, Yang Xin would never rely entirely on S.H.I.E.L.D.—one must never put all their eggs in one basket. In the remaining time, he used the teleportation techniques learned from the Ancient One to travel the world…

Corners of all seven continents, countless isles across the four oceans—everywhere, Yang Xin appeared. Planting trees was simple: with a thought, the Divine Tree sapling inside him would produce a seed, which would fall into the earth and sprout, instantly establishing a subordinate link to the sapling within him.

After absorbing dark energy from the Dark Dimension, his inner Divine Tree sapling would convert part of this into chakra, distributing the rest evenly among the seeds. The seeds, in turn, would convert the dark energy into chakra for their own growth.

The surplus chakra would then diffuse into nature, nourishing the world.

Yang Xin began to grasp it: the Ancient One borrowed dark energy from the Dark Dimension, had it transformed by the Divine Tree into power the earth could absorb, thus nurturing the planet—an immense stroke of fortune.

Understanding the Ancient One’s intention, Yang Xin vowed to use S.H.I.E.L.D.’s resources to plant Divine Trees across the globe. Yet, he also knew the danger of excess—should every patch of soil and water on Earth be filled with Divine Trees, the planet would become more like Pandora from Avatar than Earth.

When his global mission was nearly complete, the Ancient One appeared before him and brought him back to Kamar-Taj in the Himalayas, beginning his training in White Magic.

Yang Xin possessed the same aptitude as the Ancient One, innately attuned to White Magic. He learned quickly, and with the cheat of shadow clones, he set two or three hundred to study daily, nearly exhausting the Ancient One’s teachings in less than a year.

“Xin, you are the most gifted student I have ever had,” the Ancient One praised him without reservation.

“That’s only because Stephen Strange hasn’t come yet,” Yang Xin thought, though he maintained a calm and modest expression, accepting the praise humbly.

“You’ve mastered the theory; now you must face real combat. Only through the crucible of life and death, by overcoming the terror between, can you become a true mage.”

“I understand, Master. Is it time for me to descend the mountain and slay demons?” Yang Xin nodded, upright and resolute.

“Yes,” the Ancient One replied without hesitation.

“Where? Who?” Yang Xin’s eyes brightened.

“The Dark Dimension. Dormammu.”

“…What?” Yang Xin’s eyes widened.

Confident as he was, it depended on the opponent. Against Coulson—even transformed into the Time Warrior—he was sure of victory. But Dormammu? Frankly, if Dormammu so much as sneezed, Yang Xin would be obliterated.

“Master, you’re not joking, are you?” Yang Xin’s face fell.

The Ancient One’s severe expression left no doubt—she was not joking.

“I’ll go with you.” With those words, she took Yang Xin’s hand and dragged him into the Dark Dimension.

Unlike their last stealthy visit, this time the Ancient One marched in openly, causing Yang Xin to immediately activate his Mangekyo Sharingan.

This was Dormammu’s realm. Yang Xin remembered well: Doctor Strange had been killed countless times here, each death unique. If not for trapping Dormammu in a time loop with the Time Stone, Strange wouldn’t have lasted three seconds.

If Strange couldn’t last three seconds, Yang Xin doubted he’d last four. So, he immediately activated his Mangekyo Sharingan, hoping its insight would help him detect and evade danger.

As for facing Dormammu head-on? That was the Ancient One’s task.

While the Ancient One and Dormammu battled in ways beyond Yang Xin’s comprehension, he fled to a safe distance, creating several shadow clones to stand guard, ready to serve as shields if danger struck.

Yet, had he not made any, he would have been beneath Dormammu’s notice—a mere insect. But the moment he did, Dormammu’s attention was drawn. With a thought, Dormammu sent several dark spears hurtling toward them at impossible speed, so fast that neither Yang Xin nor his clones could react.

With a series of sharp sounds, his clones were obliterated almost simultaneously. The final spear streaked directly for Yang Xin’s brow, so swiftly that his mind seemed to freeze.

In that instant, nothing existed but the dark spear.

“Stop! Stop! I command you to stop!”

Between life and death lies ultimate terror, but also ultimate breakthrough. In that instant, Yang Xin erupted; his Mangekyo Sharingan spun furiously, its afterimages flickering.

And the dark spear sent by Dormammu actually stopped—suspended in the void, poised just before Yang Xin’s brow, a hair’s breadth from piercing it, from shattering his forehead…

At the same time, the Ancient One, locked in battle with Dormammu, sighed in relief and loosened her grip. Though she seemed fully engaged with Dormammu, most of her focus had been on Yang Xin. Seeing him survive the ordeal by his own power, she withheld intervention. What had seemed a deadly crisis was, in fact, under her complete control.

Yang Xin stood stunned, for in his mind, a mysterious voice had sounded—

“Hachiju-happō Sake Cups.”