Chapter 132: Bran and Sean

Chapter 132: Bran and Sean

When the first heavy snow of the year fell, Sean appeared before Bran.

Bran had complicated feelings towards this old scholar; he was the teacher who had introduced Bran to the world. From a master-disciple perspective, Sean was a good man. But from the perspective of his people, Bran remained wary of him.

Bran had always been curious about the scholars. How could such a group exist in such a wild and backward place? Most importantly, their origins were always shrouded in secrecy. The official explanation was: it was too long ago to be verified.

How was that possible? How could the scholars, a group whose duty was to record and seek knowledge, not have recorded their own history?

…

Sean also had complicated feelings towards Bran. After Bran gained some influence, he had proposed that the history of the Northlanders should be written by the Northlanders themselves.

At first, the scholars had indeed brought much help to the Northlands. But many years had passed, and the scholars had become unproductive. It was time to end the agreement made with the scholars back then.

Now Bran had taken Northland City and was conducting exchanges with the City of Wisdom as an equal. Bran had even spread the word that the secret of Wizard Evolution lay hidden within knowledge, so the Wizards of the Northlands began to study seriously. This trend also inspired many Northlander youths.

Bran’s exploits in Northland City had spread. Since he said power was hidden in knowledge, and given the Northlanders’ obsession with strength, the enthusiasm for learning remained high. He was a legend among the Northlander youths; his every move was imitated by them. The extra cats appearing around the youths were clear proof.

What exactly did Bran want to do? Sean had asked himself this more than once.

…

The two, both with mixed feelings, looked at each other. After a moment, Sean broke the silence. “I was passing by and wanted to see you. I will be leaving this place soon.”

Bran was somewhat at a loss for words. He did not know Sean’s past, and his interactions with Sean were limited to academic exchanges. Just as he was hesitating about how to speak, a flash of insight hit him, and he blurted out: “Your reward? Congratulations!”

Bran genuinely congratulated Sean.

Sean, however, seemed somewhat embarrassed. “You guessed?”

“Yes. You once said you were recording everything you could. Now, it must be that all this has finally satisfied the City of Wisdom.”

“Aren’t you angry about such a… betrayal?”

“It’s good for the outside world to understand the Northlands appropriately.”

“Then why did you propose to stop accepting new Scholars?”

Bran smiled and pointed at his feet. “This place will be an open city. Anyone can live here freely. We can exchange various opinions, information, and knowledge here. A true exchange, not theft.”

Sean retorted, “That’s all?”

“Yes, that’s all.”

…

“Before I leave, can you tell me your wish?” Sean asked the question that had long been on his mind.

“I once asked you what the Continent under our feet was like. You told me we lived on the back of a turtle.” Bran twitched the corner of his mouth.

“Then I asked you: ‘Why are there mountains, rivers, and oceans on the turtle’s back?’ You answered: ‘Because it’s so big.'”

“Back then, you sketched a simple outline and said that was the land beneath our feet. But I’m afraid that isn’t even equal to a single scale on the turtle’s back, is it?”

Bran paused and emphasized his words: “I just want to see the other scales, to eventually piece together the complete turtle’s back.”

Sean sighed regretfully. “It’s a shame you aren’t a Scholar.”

Bran did not feel it was a shame; he only grew more wary of the Scholar organization. Sean had lived in the Northlands for so many years; Bran couldn’t think of a reason for his return. He was only refusing new Scholars from entering the Northlands deeply, not expelling these old Scholars who had lived there for years.

Bran had too many things he couldn’t figure out, so as Sean left, he put the matter out of his mind.

…

The Ancient Tree always wore a lush green crown, highlighting his uniqueness. Today, he surprised Bran again. Two green vines extended from the tree’s crown, wrapping around Bran and Huahua. For Huahua, this was just a minor nuisance; she easily slipped out, leaving only Bran entangled in a bundle.

When did he learn to do that? With this question in mind, Bran struggled forcefully but was only squeezed tighter, even feeling a bit suffocated.

“Stop!” Bran yelled and gave up struggling.

With a sense of pride, the Ancient Tree asked, “How was that?”

Unfortunately, the expected praise didn’t come. Instead, the answer struck a blow: “Not great!”

“Why?” he retorted, displeased.

“Because you hurt me.”

Hearing Bran’s explanation, the Ancient Tree immediately released him.

Bran decided to give this careless fellow a lesson. He would teach the Ancient Tree to control his newly grown vines—or arms. And maybe brainstorm some ideas along the way.

Bran gathered various objects, from bird eggs to iron tools. He started making the Ancient Tree pick them up one by one. He had to learn to gauge his own strength through the sensation of touch. Today it was just a minor joke on Bran; what if it had been Zoya? The consequences could have been serious.

“When did these grow out?” Bran asked while conducting the tests.

“A long time ago.”

“Why only tell me today?”

“I heard your conversation. You want to piece together the complete turtle’s back. So, we can go together.”

“Uh… you didn’t grow legs, did you?” Bran felt somewhat startled. He recalled that last time he might have told the Ancient Tree a nonsensical story.

“Soon. I’m adjusting them.”

“How many legs?”

“Two, of course! Just like you.”

“You’ll fall to your death, you little…!” Bran was annoyed. “You have such a huge crown; how will you stand steady on two legs? A gust of wind would knock you over. And you are a tree, an Ancient Tree! You don’t need to be like me. Look, Huahua is our good friend, right? How many legs does she have?”

“Four.”

“Right, so you don’t need to be like me.”

“Then I want four legs too.”

“I recommend eight legs.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s the most impressive. You could walk sideways.”

“Okay!”

“And arms, grow a few more of those.”

“Okay!”

…

Soon, Bran began to regret it. The Ancient Tree actually said he needed weapons. He planned to grow sixteen arms, so Bran needed to prepare sixteen weapons for him. This wasn’t a difficult problem, at least not for Bran. After much thought, he made sixteen short-handled eight-petal hammers and placed them under the tree.

Then, his days of anxiety began. Every day, the Ancient Tree swung two hammers above Bran’s head with loud whooshing sounds. This forced Bran to devote most of his energy to staying carefully alert.

People completely avoided the area; even Danny stopped appearing. The White Wolf and the Snow Falcon had long since fled without a trace. Only Bran, Huahua, and the currently insane Ancient Tree remained. Fortunately, people also knew about Bran’s abilities, so they didn’t need to meet face-to-face for discussions. However, after several incidents of hammers flying loose, Bran felt like everyone was testing the limits of his communication range.

This was no way to live! Faced with the Ancient Tree diligently practicing martial arts, preparing to bravely venture into the world with him, Bran couldn’t imagine the scene when all sixteen arms were fully grown.