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    Perhaps the bigwigs felt it was beneath their dignity to argue in front of their apprentice, and quickly sent Gretel away. It wasn’t until the next day, when Elder Elwin took him to collect his oak staff, that he was informed of his share:

    “You get half. – Little guy, don’t complain, the church put in 10 times your amount and only got 30% of the share!”

    Oh, oh, oh, the technology I provided was also calculated into the share? Bigwigs are pretty smart, huh!

    “But you won’t see the money until next year at the earliest. Little Gretel, your teacher remembers your kindness. If you need money for research, tell your teacher!”

    “Teacher, the money isn’t urgent—”

    Gretel ate at the Lawmaster’s Tower and lived in the Lawmaster’s Tower, he didn’t have any place to spend money for now. Knight Siro thanked him with ten gold coins, and after Knight Barron’s wrist was healed, he thanked him with 15 gold coins. Gretel held a large sum of money in his hands, he didn’t feel like he was short of money at all, and had no sense of crisis:

    “What’s important is that the cleaning work starts quickly. Teacher, the slower the speed, the greater the risk of the plague. You have to take it seriously!”

    “I know! You’re just a little kid, don’t worry about this!” Elder Elwin responded impatiently, picked up Gretel, and leaped onto the treetops. Gretel was about to speak, but was blown away by the strong wind, and could only keep silent.

    Elder Elwin took him to the hill where the worshipers of the Natural God gathered every night of the new moon. From the foot of the hill to the top, countless oak trees, large and small, spread their branches and leaves, completely blocking out the sky. Elder Elwin brought him to the middle of the hillside and released him:

    “Find a tree.”

    “What?”

    Gretel was confused. On such a large mountain, there were oak trees everywhere, and you’re telling me to find one without any clues? Teacher, at least give me a target!

    “Each of us uses an oak staff, cultivated by ourselves from the beginning.” Elder Elwin didn’t give him any hints. Instead, he stood aside, tapped his staff on the ground, and slowly began to speak:

    “Children who begin to receive teachings will bury an acorn in an open space and wait for it to take root and sprout, growing into a sapling. On the day they become apprentices, they will use their teacher’s help to make the sapling into a wooden staff.

    From then on, this staff grows with them, fights with them, experiences decades or even hundreds of years of wind and rain. Until finally, they, together with their master, return to this forest…”

    “Then… me?”

    Gretel couldn’t help but ask. Teacher, it takes years for an acorn to grow into a sapling. It’s fine for the apprentices you’ve been nurturing since childhood, but you brought me here. Do you want to give me a fruit as an oak staff?

    “Your situation is special. But the Natural God Sect, for thousands of years, has also found ways to deal with it. You go find an oak tree, and then I’ll tell you what to do next.”

    “How do I find it?”

    “Find it with your heart. Open your heart, feel, and listen, you will discover the oak tree that resonates most with you.”

    Is it so mystical? Gretel was shocked. Let alone whether this feeling is reliable or not, even if it is reliable, I follow my feelings and…

    Teacher, this is a slope! Are you sure I won’t trip and roll down to the foot of the mountain?

    He stared at Elder Elwin expectantly. Elder Elwin looked at him with a kind expression, but remained unwavering. After a long stalemate, Gretel turned his head, sighed, and started climbing up the mountain.

    Maybe feeling it at the top of the mountain would give me a wider range of coverage?

    He struggled to climb to the top of the mountain, wiped his sweat, and sat down in the middle of the circle of stones to meditate. One minute, two minutes… it was quite effective, the surrounding elements seemed to be very active, and as for which tree was more reliable…

    I’m sorry, I can’t even see the trees in my meditation vision.

    Gretel was troubled, then troubled again, and troubled again and again. He meditated peacefully for minute after minute, and suddenly, a luminous green dot jumped in his meditation vision.

    It flickered on and off, like breathing.

    Gretel stood up in a dreamlike state. He followed the direction of the green dot, one step at a time. He didn’t know how long he walked or whether he tripped or not – probably not, at least he didn’t fall out of his meditative state – finally, he fell forward and bit down on the bark.

    “…Ugh, ugh, ugh!”

    Gretel tasted bitterness, turned his head and spat. After he finished spitting, he looked up, and in front of him were towering trees, blocking out the sun. Gretel stretched out his arms as much as possible, trying to hug the trunk, but he found that his arms were stretched to their limits, and the angle was still flat, almost like he was lying against a wall.

    …How big is this tree?

    How many years has it lived!

    “This is the oldest tree in the forest.” A voice suddenly came from behind him, Gretel jumped back in surprise, and saw Elder Elwin leaning on his oak staff, looking at him with a complex expression:

    “Legend has it that the first elder of the Natural God Sect in this region, before he died, inserted his oak staff into the ground, and then it grew into this tree.”

    …Then how many years? A thousand? Two thousand? Oak trees have a lifespan of 400 years, right? Forget it, in a world with divine techniques and magic, don’t apply knowledge from the previous life…

    Gretel silently turned his head and looked at the big tree. Elder Elwin patted him on the shoulder: “Pray.”

    Pray… pray for what?

    To whom do I pray?

    To this tree?

    With a stomach full of doubts, Gretel pretended to lower his head and clasp his hands together in front of his chest. A low incantation sounded beside him, and after a while, he was suddenly touched. He reflexively stretched out his hands—

    “Pat” a sound, a dark brown acorn fell heavily into his palm.

    “Teacher—”

    Gretel turned his head back in surprise. But with a rustle, Elder Elwin leaped up, his robe fluttering, and stepped on the tree trunk straight up. In an instant, he landed softly, handing Gretel a green bundle:

    “Mistletoe. Take it.”

    Gretel quickly took it. Elder Elwin picked him up again and brought him to the middle of the circle of stones at the top of the hill, and with a clang, he threw a dagger at him:

    “Soak the acorn with your blood. Then, wrap the acorn with mistletoe and bury it in the soil, thinking about how to make it grow faster.”

    Gretel did as he was told without saying a word.

    He squatted in the center of the circle, pressed his hands on the surface soil, concentrated, and traced— or imagined— the shape of the oak tree rising from the ground.

    There was silence around him, only the rustling of the summer breeze blowing through the leaves, and unconsciously, a great pressure accumulated in the air, even the birdsong around him disappeared.

    Gretel’s eyes suddenly went black. His body went weak, his limbs felt heavy, as if something was draining his strength— just then, there was a slight movement under his fingertips, a touch of green broke through the soil, grew a stem, stood tall, and spread leaves…

    Not enough!

    I need more!

    I want to grow!

    Give me strength—

    The touch of green sent a greedy thought. Gretel felt dizzy, his head throbbed, and with a plop, he knelt on the ground. Even if you drain me dry, it’s not enough… You’ve only grown two leaves…

    He silently spoke to the young sprout. A hand suddenly rested on his neck, warm and vast strength flowed down, circled around, and flowed out from his fingertips. The sprout responded with a wave of joyful fluctuations, rustling, rapidly growing taller.

    Gretel knelt on the ground, watching it grow past his head, the main stem changing from translucent to the thickness of a chopstick, to the thickness of a pen, to the thickness of a cup. Finally, seven or eight main roots pulled themselves out of the soil, bringing with them a blur of light and shadow, silently shrinking into the trunk—

    “Take it.” Elder Elwin pulled him up, grabbed the sapling that had just grown, and stuffed it into his hand:

    “This is your oak staff!”

    It’s Friday! I don’t know if I’ll get the recommendation news by 2 pm…

    I hope I can get another round of promotion before the shelves are stocked, clap my hands together, pray.

    Please collect, recommend, review… I was so sad that there wasn’t even one book review last chapter…

    (End of Chapter)

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