One day later.
"Hmm?"
Ethan's footsteps came to a sudden halt.
About a kilometer ahead to his right, the root system of an old oak tree transmitted a faint, blurry message.
A two-legged beast was hiding in a hollow formed by its roots.
"Heh, found one."
A slight curve touched the corners of Ethan's mouth as he changed direction and headed toward the old oak.
Vines cleared the path before him, bushes parted automatically, and the shadows cast by the canopy were pulled aside by shifting leaves as sunlight poured over him, almost as if paving his way.
In less than two minutes, the old oak tree came into view.
The trunk was so thick it would take seven or eight people to encircle it. Its canopy blotted out the sky, casting a dense shadow over dozens of meters of ground.
Roots rose from the earth in a gnarled, tangled mess, forming a natural depression at the base of the trunk that looked like a semi-enclosed cave.
Ethan paused.
Three meters ahead, between two old oaks, a spiderweb hung across the bushes.
The web looked no different from any ordinary one, so delicate it swayed with the breeze.
Ethan's gaze lingered on the web for a moment.
After all, it was far too clean.
No withered leaves, no insect remains.
And certainly no signs of repair.
It looked as though a spider had just finished spinning it.
This wasn't a web spun by an ordinary spider; it was wizardry.
Or rather, it was the cantrip: Spiderweb Sentry.
It was a simple cantrip that Ethan had learned at a single glance.
"Heh, not entirely stupid."
Ethan's lip twitched slightly. He raised his right hand and flicked a leaf from his fingertips.
The emerald leaf blade sliced precisely into the octagonal pattern at the center of the web. The threads snapped, and a faint silver light flickered before dissipating.
The entire web collapsed from the trunk like a skeleton that had its bones removed.
Naturally, the person who had set the cantrip sensed it immediately.
A faint rustling came from the depression in the roots, sounding like someone hurriedly packing things away.
Ethan ignored it, stepping over the snapped silk and rounding the protruding roots to reach the cave entrance.
Then, he saw her.
The girl from Silver Moon Academy.
She was the slender figure draped in a silver-gray cloak, her hood usually covering most of her face. Now, the hood had slipped back, revealing a face so pale it was almost transparent.
Her features weren't particularly delicate, but there was a cold, sharp cleanliness in her eyes, like ice-cold water flowing through a mountain stream.
However, Ethan's attention wasn't on her face.
Most of her body was covered in wounds. They stretched from her collarbone to her lower abdomen, slashed diagonally from her left shoulder to her right ribs, and there were dense, hideous gashes on her thighs, arms, and even the side of her neck.
Some had already scabbed over, while others were still seeping blood. Dark red blood trickled down the contours of her skin, dripping onto the dark green moss beneath her.
The girl was kneeling in the hollow of the roots. She had removed her cloak, wearing only a form-fitting gray short shirt with sleeves rolled above her elbows. Behind her, four dark purple spider legs extended from beneath her shoulder blades. Each was as thick as an adult's forearm, their joints covered in fine fuzz and their tips as sharp as needles.
Those four spider legs were nimbly manipulating bandages and potion bottles—some cleaning wounds, some applying ointment, and others wrapping bandages.
"Well now, a spider girl. You're hit pretty hard."
The girl's movements froze, and the four dark purple spider legs simultaneously stiffened in mid-air.
She slowly raised her head, her cold eyes scanning Ethan.
"Blood Bone Tower?"
As she spoke, more dark red blood seeped from the hideous wound on her collarbone, trickling down her skin and onto the moss.
Ethan leaned against the trunk of the old oak, arms crossed. "I'm not a fan of wasting words. Give me the ring."
The girl's eyes narrowed slightly. The four spider legs retracted at once, their needle-sharp tips pointing toward Ethan, the fine fuzz at their joints standing on end.
"Hmm?"
"Although the secret realm rules don't allow us to fight right now, in your current state, I wonder if you could handle it if I lured a few magical beasts over."
Ethan raised his right hand, a point of pale green light glowing at his fingertip. The light was exceptionally bright in the dim shade of the tree.
The spider girl stared at the green light for two breaths, then looked at her own bleeding wounds. A mocking curve pulled at her lips.
"Are you... threatening me?"
"Bingo."
The spider girl fell silent for a few breaths. "Aren't you afraid I'd rather attack you than give it to you?"
Ethan chuckled, and the green light at his fingertip extinguished.
"Be my guest."
The moment Ethan's words fell, the spider girl exploded into motion.
The four spider legs lunged simultaneously, the fuzz on their joints bristling as the sharp tips carved four silver lines through the air.
The spider legs stabbed at Ethan from four directions, cutting off all avenues of escape.
Ethan didn't move an inch.
Even the expression on his face didn't change.
In the instant the spider legs were less than half a meter from his chest, a burst of emerald light manifested out of thin air beside him, binding the spider girl tightly.
The spider girl's body froze within the green light, her four spider legs suspended in mid-air, their tips less than ten centimeters from Ethan's throat.
Her eyes widened, her cold face flushing with anger and resentment.
"You..."
Before she could finish, the green light suddenly contracted.
The spider girl was swallowed by the light.
The entire process took less than a second.
Ethan withdrew his gaze, his lip twitching.
"Tsk, quite the stubborn one. A pity."
It would have been so much better if she had just handed over the ring and they both went their separate ways.
She just had to fight.
And once she fought, she was thrown out by the secret realm rules.
Wasn't that just a total waste?
Ethan shook his head, pushing the matter of the spider girl from his mind. He turned around and pressed his right hand against the trunk of the old oak.
The texture of the rough bark met his palm. His Plant Affinity passive allowed him to clearly sense the state of this old oak.
It was very old.
At least a thousand years old.
Its root system reached dozens of meters underground, spreading in all directions and covering an area nearly a hundred meters wide. Some roots were as thick as buckets, while others were as fine as hair, interwoven into a dense subterranean network.
But its vitality was fading.
The heartwood of the trunk had begun to hollow out, the canopy's foliage was no longer as lush as in its youth, and many of the roots buried deep underground had already died, becoming nutrients for fungi and insects.
Ethan's mental power flowed through his palm into the trunk.
Pale green light surged from his palm, spreading through the grain of the wood in all directions.
Wood-element energy particles were drawn in like an invisible tide, pouring into every fiber, every leaf, and every root of the old oak.
The old oak shuddered violently.
The sensation was hard to describe.
If one had to put it into words, it was like a person dying of thirst suddenly being plunged into a clear spring.
Ethan could clearly sense the old oak's "emotions."
At first, it was bewilderment.
It was too old—so old it could no longer remember the last time it had been nourished by energy. Perhaps hundreds of years ago, or perhaps never.
Then came shock.
The incoming energy particles flowed through every fiber. Dead cells were revitalized, the hollow heartwood was filled with new growth, and the growing points at the tips of the roots began to divide once more.
Finally, there was ecstasy.
That pure, unreserved joy transmitted from every leaf in the canopy, every line in the trunk, and every tip of the roots. It was so intense it nearly overwhelmed Ethan.
Ethan's lips curled into a slight smile.
The old oak's canopy began to thicken at a pace visible to the naked eye. Countless new buds sprouted among the once-sparse branches, and tender green leaves unfurled under the sunlight.
The old bark on the surface of the trunk began to crack and fall away, revealing fresh growth rings beneath. The new bark was dark brown with fine patterns, feeling warm and smooth to the touch.
The roots expanded frantically underground.
The dead roots were replaced by new ones, reaching into deeper soil layers and further areas. The root network that had only covered a hundred meters doubled in size in just dozens of breaths.
The old oak began to "speak."
"Good... more... more..."
It was the exact same reaction as that four-leaf clover from before.
Ethan chuckled but didn't stop.
Plant Growth continued for a full minute.
By the time the old oak's trunk was thick enough to require a dozen people to encircle it, its canopy blotted out the sky to shroud the entire area in deep shade, and its roots reached over two hundred meters underground, Ethan noticed something was wrong.
The old oak couldn't "eat" anymore.
The vessel wasn't large enough.
Its trunk, canopy, and roots—every place that could hold energy—was stuffed full. If he continued to pour more in, the energy would either dissipate and go to waste, or the old oak would burst from the pressure.
Ethan stopped and patted the new bark on the trunk.
"Alright, that's enough for now."
The old oak's canopy shook violently, countless leaves clashing together with a rustling sound.
That conscious ripple came again, much clearer than before.
"Thank you... thank you..."
Ethan withdrew his hand and turned to leave.
Behind him, the canopy of the old oak continued to sway gently, as if waving goodbye.
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