The Expanding Young Tree (2)

Growing bigger brings all sorts of problems.

I had worried for a while now that my increasing weight would make the ground beneath me give way.

So instead of breaking the bedrock and stones underground, I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠used them as supports. When necessary, I even drove solidified mana into the earth like steel rebar to reinforce the foundation.

Perhaps the effort paid off, because even now, having grown to two hundred meters in height, I felt no sensation of the ground sinking beneath me. It was nothing to feel secure about, but I seemed to have done a decent job of prevention.

Of course, you never truly know until you've been through it.

Now that my body had actually grown, what worried me wasn't my weight so much as the area of my trunk. Just as I had grown vertically, I was also growing bit by bit horizontally, and I had begun to encroach on the clearing around me.

The clearing spanned roughly a hundred meters in radius, so there was plenty of room left for growth — but for every inch I claimed, my plant neighbors lost an inch of their own.

Weeds that had grown nestled against me were being crowded out by my trunk and the roots at my base, and they withered while I slowly took their place.

Plants being born and dying is the natural way of things.

There is no self in that life and death. Death itself is nothing special — it is simply the cycle of nature, embodied and displayed through a life.

But lately, I found myself worrying more and more.

Was it acceptable for me to take for granted that my neighbors were dying because of me?

That plants live and die is nature's way.

That animals live and die is nature's way.

Then is it nature's way for a quasi-city-sized village to hunt every wild animal in the region into extinction?

To some degree, I say no. Humanity can exert an influence far too great to be dismissed as merely a part of nature.

The same goes for me.

I wield an influence far too vast to be written off as just another plant.

My thick trunk fills the clearing, leaving no room for anything else to grow. My high branches blot out the sky and block the sunlight.

Little by little, the environment was becoming crueler to my plant neighbors.

To be clear, I never chose an endless sprawl of branches and roots. I have no intention of becoming the thing that annihilates plants and drives animals to extinction.

And yet my life is made of nothing but endless branches and roots.

―Honestly, even if plants and animals go extinct, nature itself doesn't change. Over tens of thousands, hundreds of thousands, millions of years, a new cycle will come around, and the tragedy will simply become the past.

I murmured this to Thermia, who listened quietly.

―No, come to think of it, calling it a tragedy at all might just be a human perspective. People overestimate their own influence, treating this fleeting moment — a mere blink to the great wildness of the world — as if it were everything, and loving it.

But whether that fleeting love is worthless was something worth pondering.

I certainly didn't think it right to cast aside every moment of fleeting love and grow into nothing but an endless mass of wood and branches.

"Well, I think—"

Thermia, dressed head to toe in pristine white, considered the matter.

"I'm not really sure I understand what you're worried about, Lord Tree."

Naturally not — the spirit of nature conservation is a product of the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠modern age, after all.

In an era when nature was something to be conquered, such worries simply couldn't be fully understood.

"But I don't think what you're worrying about is wrong. If you didn't have that tender heart of yours — if you hadn't defied death, which is nothing more than the cycle of nature — I wouldn't be standing here right now."

The girl pointed at herself and giggled.

"So why not just do whatever you like? I roast and eat meat now and then myself, so I figure you're entitled to enjoy yourself a little too, Lord Tree."

She had a point.

Even if my actions were ultimately worthless in the vast expanse of nature's time, it was I myself who assigned value to my own heart.

Granted, this way of thinking was closer to human than to nature. But I had become the Sacred Young Tree precisely to connect nature and people.

A laugh escaped me.

―Thank you. My worries are settled. Move her to a pot for me, would you?

"Yes, my lord!"

Thermia picked up a mana shovel. A flowerpot sat ready at her feet.

She dug up my pink-flowered neighbor and transplanted her into the pot.

"I was only going to move a flower into a pot. How on earth did the conversation get this long?"

―Tell me about it.

The pink flower was a familiar neighbor, one who had been with me since my days as a sprout.

Like petals that never fall in any season, she was remarkably hardy, and she had weathered my growth well enough — but she was reaching her limit, so I decided to move her somewhere new.

Though I did pause to wonder whether letting her simply die wouldn't be more in keeping with nature's way.

"What kind of flower is this, anyway?"

Holding the pot, Thermia turned it this way and that, examining it.

"I got curious about the flower blooming right in front of your trunk, Lord Tree, so I looked it up! No matter how many books I searched, I couldn't find it. And nobody I asked knew either."

I had checked the village library myself, and I couldn't identify the flower either.

"A flower that blooms all four seasons can't possibly be ordinary, right?"

―Maybe it's actually just an ordinary flower. Perhaps it pours all its strength into simply defying the seasons.

"I think differently."

Thermia rebutted me flatly.

"There's no way a flower that's been with you since the day you were born is ordinary. And even if it once was — it isn't anymore."

―Is... that so?

"I'll take personal charge of caring for this flower! There's no way I could stand by and let a flower that has shared your whole life wither away!"

Thermia declared this with great resolve.

―Just don't overdo it. Wildflowers have a way of dying in greenhouses. When you raise a plant, what matters is not letting love sweep you away.

"I'll keep that in mind and raise her beautifully!"

Thermia glanced around, then bounced over and snatched up a passing water spirit, stuffing it into her pouch. Apparently it was for the flowerpot.

The girl departed.

Left behind, I thought for a while.

She was right — I really could just do as I pleased.

When I felt guilty toward my plant neighbors, I could simply create an environment where I didn't need to feel guilty.

How about solving it with a Holy Land?

When I made the orchard a Holy Land, a wave of fatigue had washed over me. Fittingly, the description noted that I had fixed a portion ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of my divinity into the earth.

My gut told me I could create two more Holy Lands. My Divinity was at level 3, so splitting it three ways fit the math exactly.

When I created the orchard, I had wished for a farm that defied the seasons.

Admittedly, in pouring that wish in, my own desires got mixed in and shaped it into an orchard — but the original intent had been realized.

So let me wish like this.

I wish my plant neighbors could grow well, unobstructed by me.

I wish this could become a gentle space where nature's way and the human perspective exist in harmony.

All of this Forest of Serenity, that is.

I poured my intent into the entire forest.

Vast intent spilled across a vast expanse.

It was a domain incomparably larger than that little farm had ever been.

It would surely take a great deal of time and patience.

But this was exactly why I had become the Sacred Young Tree.

"The preparations are complete."

The effort to turn the Four Seasons Orchard's fruit into an export product continued.

After the village council's discussions, the plan to spread it through noble society while also pursuing military contracts had grown more concrete: fresh fruit for the former, dried fruit for the latter.

Fresh fruit spoils easily and is hard to manage. Being from a Holy Land, it kept far longer than ordinary fruit — but it didn't defy nature itself.

Yet that wasn't purely a flaw.

It was also an enormous advantage: without our having to specially collect them, the fruits rotted on their own, keeping their rarity intact.

Delicious, rare fresh fruit for noble society; long-lasting dried fruit that resisted spoilage for the military.

Splitting the two into separate products let us pursue premium branding and stable demand at the same time.

"Whew. Phew."

Thermia huffed gently on a fruit and polished it with a handkerchief. Finding it spotless, without a speck of dust, she looked proud of herself.

"When His Majesty the King tastes this, he's absolutely going to marvel. I'd bet anything on it."

Over the winter, we had sent a few fresh fruits to Velesa.

According to her reply, when word spread that mysterious fruits had been delivered, the nobles who had been wondering just what kind of place this western elf village was — the one whose tree had bestowed a sacred sword upon the Crown Prince — showed tremendous interest.

Unfortunately for them, Velesa and the Crown Prince had eaten most of the mysterious fruit themselves.

Only the Queen and a tiny handful of nobles tasted the remaining fruit, and every last one of them raved that it was the taste of heaven itself — leaving the entire high society, late to the trend, waiting in agony for more.

Walking billboards really are effective.

If the Queen hadn't put her foot down, the village might have buckled under the pressure of nobles demanding we hand the fruit over.

Humans who were, to any observer, outright noble retainers had come and prowled around the orchard. Though in the end they'd only watched from a distance and left.

It was a very good situation indeed — except that the Crown Prince, still awkward with his father, had never offered any fruit to the King, so this time we prepared a separate batch specifically as tribute for him.

"Not a single blemish — absolute perfection! No sharp corners, no crooked spots, nothing sticking out, a flawlessly symmetrical form from every angle! The ideal tribute for His Majesty the King, wouldn't you say?"

Thermia held up a fruit like a trophy. Its surface gleamed with an almost mirror-like sheen.

Ordinary orchards harvest fruit hanging from the branches, but ours collects the fruit the trees let fall on their own, so a completely unblemished piece is genuinely hard to come by.

Truly fruit fit for a king to eat. Not that the taste itself differed all that much.

Teacher inspected the sacks of dried fruit beside us.

"The weather is clearing and spring has arrived, so the army will soon be preparing to march east and suppress the rebellion. If we depart on horseback, our timing should be just right."

A single fruit fills the stomach, and once dried, the volume shrinks dramatically. We could transport the whole shipment on horseback rather than by cart.

"His Highness the Crown Prince has already taken a liking to them, so the knights should be able to set a smooth precedent while eating ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠them. Once a usage precedent exists from a war that's been won, everything after that is easy."

A war that's been won, hm.

―Will suppressing the rebellion really be easy?

"It shouldn't be difficult."

"That, I could not say with certainty."

Eldrin, the former village chief, who had been sampling the dried fruit, cut in.

"Why can you not say it with certainty?"

"The East borders foreign lands, so most of its soldiers are battle-hardened, and it boasts many fortresses in excellent condition. If the rebels pull the elite border troops to their cause and resist, victory is no sure thing."

No wonder the King had personally tried to knock the Crown Prince down in a sparring match. If the former wastrel ended up bearing the blame for a lost war, it would be a truly fatal wound to his succession.

"But the royal army's numbers should be overwhelming."

"Wars are not decided by the count of soldiers. A well-disciplined soldier is one who does not readily lose morale in a war that is hard to win. And the just cause lies with them. Should it drag into a prolonged conflict, there is no telling how tangled things could become."

The current king had pushed aside his older brother — the heir designated by the previous king — and seized the throne for himself. The eastern lords had risen in rebellion carrying that brother's child, so technically speaking, theirs was hardly a rebellion at all in terms of legitimacy.

Teacher had no rebuttal. With that possibility left open, the discussion went back and forth between him and the chief.

War really is a difficult thing.

Even with overwhelming advantages, if a single battle went badly and a few lords were swayed to the other side, it could all curdle into an endless civil war that bled the whole kingdom dry.

The Crown Prince's position would collapse, and Velesa would have an agonizing time of it too.

All we could do right now, I suppose, was hope that compact rations would prove a small help in the war.

How should I put this.

Might as well pour a little intent into them before they go.

I poured my intent into the dried fruit.

Untiring strength to those who eat.

Unfaltering senses to those who eat.

The heart of the victor to those who eat.

Light burst forth.

Every gaze turned toward me, and the light flared brilliant.

A message rose before me.

Yu-hu. Blessed dried fruit, straight from the Holy Land.