Sword of Dawnbreaker

Chapter 745 - 744: An Unexpected Path

The newspapers and broadcasts of the Cecil Clan are quite fascinating, constantly featuring various news from afar. When Beltira was still human, she was intrigued by these new forms, and after becoming a plant, she became even more passionate about them.

After all, as a plant, she had lost the ability to travel to distant places.

To meet the reasonable request of the Sorin Giant Tree, the Cecils stationed there showed appropriate goodwill: they would bring the latest newspapers and magazines, and Margarita even ordered a Magic Web Terminal to be set up next to the trunk of the Sorin Giant Tree, allowing Beltira to control and watch it herself.

Beltira learned the name Norris from a newspaper’s agricultural section and a Magic Web program.

This is indeed a significant figure, the Empire’s Minister, and reportedly one of the founders of the Cecil Foundation.

Though he is merely an ordinary person without any transcendent abilities.

Beltira couldn’t help but carefully scrutinize Norris again, sensing that the old man in front of her might not be as frail as she initially thought.

He simply aged too soon, that’s all.

This old and frail appearance was something she had seen many times—during the pioneering age, many ancestors who burst from the wasteland and struggled to survive on the wilderness were like this. Even during the kingdom era, the poor, who barely survived, were still the same.

She glimpsed too many stories from Norris in an instant, so much so that she was slightly surprised. However, her numbed expression didn’t reveal this slight psychological fluctuation, she simply asked curiously, "Are you here to find me?"

"I came to witness the ’miracle of the Sorin Giant Tree.’ It is said that this place maintains the vitality of spring," Norris slowly nodded. "I see it, it truly is incredible... you have almost completely healed this area."

"Are you trying to rebuild the cities and villages of the Eastern Plains?" Beltira asked curiously.

"Can you see that?"

"I can see a little bit," Beltira said. "From the highest point of my canopy, I can vaguely see the edges of the marshlands by Pine Forest Valley, there’s smoke rising lately, and I can also see the Crystal Towers erected."

Norris nodded, "That’s the Pine Forest Valley Camp. They are restoring the lumberyard and mines there, preparing for the reconstruction works of Red Maple next year."

"You must find it difficult... I know, it’s winter outside now," Beltira said slowly. "Why must you do these things in winter? You could wait until late spring when the ice melts — you could first stay in the warm southern cities."

"After a winter, hungry wolves will completely occupy the wilderness. By late spring, we would still spend time building camps, repairing houses, and excavating water sources. Missing each opportunity to sow could mean missing a harvest season. People might starve," Norris said calmly. "The southern borders are not rich in food, and what the West managed to gather can only support us until the harvest season next year. In those areas lacking food... whether people survive may really be just a matter of one meal."

A few seconds later, Beltira softly spoke, "...you don’t want anyone to starve to death, is it?"

"No one deserves to starve to death," Norris said.

"But there will definitely be people who starve, at least this winter, at least before the Plains of the Holy Spirits’ grain-growing areas recover..."

"Perhaps, but that’s not an excuse," Norris shook his head. "I am the Minister of Agriculture. The King has tasked me to feed every Cecil as best as I can — having a full meal is a citizen’s right, beyond that, it’s not my concern."

A wind blew from afar, carrying a slight chill, though compared to the winter winds outside, it could be considered mild, it still made Norris cough a few times.

The canopy of the Sorin Giant Tree rustled, and the cold wind halted abruptly.

"Thank you... is that your power?" Norris felt the soothing of his body. No longer the ignorant farmer he once was, he could guess the extraordinary power contained within. "I feel much better."

"It’s just a little trick, no need to mind it."

Norris paused in silence, unexpectedly waving to the people who came with him. "You can rest for a while. I’d like to stay here for a bit."

A young official stepped forward by instinct. "Minister, are you..."

"I am feeling quite well now." Norris smiled at the young man, "I’d like to chat a bit more with this lady."

"...Alright."

The accompanying people left.

Under the Sorin Tree, only the aged Minister of Agriculture and a former pioneer who had witnessed seven centuries of trials and tribulations stood facing each other.

"Your condition is not optimistic, Mr. Norris," Beltira first broke the silence. "As a mortal, your end is near."

Norris chuckled, shaking his head, "...I know, but hearing it said so directly doesn’t exactly feel pleasant."

"Apologies, it’s been a long time since I’ve tried to speak gently," Beltira said, "Do you wish for my power to help extend your life?"

"I know a rather skilled Druid... although he has some character issues, his skills are excellent. He once said that aging is the destined fate of most mortals. Even Divine Arts before White Starfall couldn’t easily reverse this pattern."

"...He’s right. So it seems you didn’t come to me for your health," Beltira observed Norris’ eyes, "Then did you really just come to see what the Sorin Giant Tree looks like?"

"I wanted to see if there’s anything here that can impact our reconstruction efforts." Norris smiled, "Especially with the food problem... after all, this is where the Empire’s finest Druids gather, and there is the Sorin Giant Tree, known as a ’miracle of nature.’"

Beltira pondered for a moment, and suddenly a rustling noise came from a nearby bush. A small gray creature ran out of it, holding a fist-sized red fruit in its arms.

Beltira bent down, took the fruit from the little creature’s hands, and handed it to Norris, "This is a fruit I produced. The humans here say it tastes good and is quite filling."

Norris took the fruit in surprise, examining it carefully and asked, "How many of these can you produce?"

"Enough to feed the population of a medium-sized town. And if you don’t mind the taste and slight toxicity, the leaves can serve short-term sustenance too, feeding two to three times more people, but please refrain from harvesting too much at once — I still need to photosynthesize."

"...We have more than just one town’s citizens to feed," Norris shook his head, "but these fruits should indeed help resolve some issues."

"To solve the food shortage across the entire plains, I fear I am incapable," Beltira shook her head, "Even if I draw more thermal energy from the underground and turn all the open lands around Sorinburg into fertile fields, it still likely wouldn’t suffice."

Norris pondered for a moment, then asked: "Can the miracle of the Sorin Giant Tree be replicated?"

"... I’m afraid not. The formation of the Sorin Giant Tree involves very complex factors; it requires the power of the gods, the lives of numerous powerful Druids, long-term accumulation of Magic Power, and a considerable amount of luck. Even then, I still haven’t completely understood how this transformation before us occurred. Mr. Norris, there won’t be a second Sorin Giant Tree, at least I don’t know how to recreate this process."

Norris sighed deeply: "Ah, I should have realized. The problem of feeding countless ordinary people, is indeed not something that can rely on an unreplicable miracle."

Beltira listened to his words and suddenly softly repeated: "An unreplicable miracle..."

"Yes, tens of thousands of ordinary people need food, the Empire requires vast areas to produce grain, what we need are solutions that can be replicated, promoted, and applied in most places, rather than a single miracle, otherwise..." Norris continued, looking at the red fruit in his hand, he shook his head with a bitter smile, "Otherwise it’s just the cake on the aristocratic dining table."

"The cake on the aristocratic dining table?"

"Delicious, but only for a few," Norris shook his head, "while most will starve outside the castle."

Beltira suddenly fell silent.

The wind blew through the canopy of the Sorin Giant Tree, stirring up a rustling sound among the branches and leaves.

After a few seconds, she broke the silence: "We have never considered this path..."

Norris didn’t hear clearly: "What path?"

"No, it’s nothing," Beltira shook her head, "I just suddenly remembered something. Not long ago, I arrogantly berated a young man, reproached him for never bowing his head to look at the humble people. Thinking about it now... it’s quite laughable."

She paused, then continued: "Mr. Norris, if the only help I can provide here are these fruits, what are your plans next?"

"Plans? Of course, to continue rebuilding this land," Norris replied with a smile, with composure, "We will rebuild the main areas on the Gorgon East Coast and around Red Maple, establish camps at important forest areas, mines, and water sources. We will measure inch by inch, rebuild foot by foot. This land will come to life sooner or later, as long as people are alive, there is always hope."

Beltira didn’t speak, she went silent for a long time, watching the old man in front of her who was almost at the end of his journey.

But what she truly saw was not the old man himself, but the people behind him.

Those setting up camps in the icy snow of the Plains of the Holy Spirits, preparing for next year’s cultivating; those traveling on the abandoned roads, transporting supplies for the rebuilding works; those negotiating with neighboring countries at the Empire’s borders, exhausting themselves to solve the food shortage.

One percent were Transcendents, ninety-nine percent were ordinary people.

These ordinary people intend to achieve a miracle that even Transcendents find impossible to realize.

She closed her eyes, but she could only close the eyes of this mimicry body, the perception of the Sorin Giant Tree was still active, allowing her to clearly see the entire Sorin Region, to clearly feel herself.

A giant tree as large as a town, towering nearly to the cloud-touching tree crown, a powerful natural field, unimaginable Transcendent power.

The Oblivion Association created such an enormous miracle, a miracle that could make any Transcendent in history shiver, a miracle that could be painted and hung in the King’s castle, could be sung by bards for a thousand years.

This "miracle" bore fruits, yet couldn’t even feed a tenth of the Plains of the Holy Spirits’ population.

A dogmatic great endeavor.

Beltira opened her eyes.

"I am a Druid." She looked at Norris, suddenly saying as if out of nowhere.

Norris didn’t understand for a moment: "Ah?"

"Nothing, just remembered my identity," Beltira showed a slight smile, a smile indistinguishable from that of a human, "Perhaps it’s time to do what early pioneers should do."

Yes, a pioneer, she almost forgot she was still a pioneer.

She had also endured those hard times, rushing out from the wasteland, where everyone lacked clothes and food on a wild barren land, without medicine, isolated and helpless, with all magical tools malfunctioning, relying only on human strength to clear the land, crafting plows from stones, digging soil to build houses.

The starving fell as they walked the road, while the King led the army to guard the borders, dying in the highlands before the war even ended, unbeknownst plagues broke out in the pioneer area, she led the Druids of the school, relying on their more-than-human life force, risking life itself to trial the medicine... didn’t those times also pass?

The pioneers back then didn’t have any "miracle" to rely on.

Perhaps she began to understand the intention behind that "Wanderer from Outer Realm" leaving her here.

"Mr. Norris, I wish you all the best," Beltira said, "As for here... I will try to figure it out with the Druids here. In fact, they’ve been attempting to cultivate seeds more suitable for cold regions, it’s just hasn’t progressed yet."

She possessed knowledge accumulated over hundreds of years, some from the Church of the Holy Spirit, some from the Oblivion Association.

Underground here were still remnants of cultivation pods, those pods were once used to create terrible monsters, but if used properly, they could also be beneficial.

The Cecil Clan didn’t know how to utilize those dangerous things, but she did.

She had already wasted too much time, although she wanted to live like a plant, no longer recalling those dark and crazy pasts, she couldn’t waste all her time on photosynthesis.

Norris’s eyes seemed a bit brighter, although not understanding what exactly transpired, he felt the lady before him who previously lacked motivation was suddenly filled with enthusiasm.

In any case, this was a good thing.

"Thank you for your help," he said sincerely, "This is a great benefit for countless people, even countless generations."

Beltira nodded with a smile: "Don’t forget to take my fruits when you leave — I can still provide enough food for a medium-sized town."