Chapter 98: Acceptance and Resistance

After finishing the meal, Ion first relayed Teacher’s final words to Sevi.

“No, never mind. What’s the point of a dying man’s words? Let it be.”

Ion expected Sevi to burst into tears again, but the response was surprising.

“I know. That’s how Master was. I knew he’d say that,” Sevi said, nodding calmly.

Seeing Sevi’s composed reaction, Ion thought, This one’s truly the Breeder’s pupil too.

“Dam Ion, Sanse was so worried. Really mad,” Baba said.

“I know. I can feel it,” Ion replied.

“Dam Ion weird. Sanse’s mad, but you’re not freaking out?” Baba asked.

“Freaking out?”

“You always watch Sanse’s mood. When Sanse’s upset, you panic and act dumb. But not now. Why?” Baba pressed.

Ion glanced at the empty soup bowl and realized, “Oh, I’m still under Vegetable Consciousness.”

Time clearly flowed differently in the mental and material worlds. In the material world, Ion couldn’t have sustained Vegetable Consciousness for a week.

“Thanks for the meal, Elidivi,” Ion said.

“More?” the World Tree asked.

“I’m full,” Ion replied.

The World Tree cleared the bowl. Ion closed his eyes to dispel Vegetable Consciousness. Focusing mana, he drew the seed from his body to his throat. As the connection broke, the roots vanished, and suppressed emotions flooded back like a tide. Ion crushed the seed in his fist.

“Feelings back now?” Baba asked.

“…”

“Dam Ion, you okay?” Baba pressed.

“Dam Ion, what’s wrong? Are you hurt?” Sevi added, worried.

Ion wasn’t okay. His heart pounded fiercely. Clutching his chest, he bowed his head. Strange. There were never side effects before. Why now?

His breathing grew ragged. The World Tree watched silently, Sevi fretted, and Baba pushed Sanse’s pot into Ion’s arms. Ion hugged Sanse, pressing his forehead to its cool leaves, and closed his eyes. His mind churned—seven Apostles, a bored God, a grand play, his Celestial heritage, his new mission, and…

“This is truly the end. Have you nothing to say to me?”

Teacher’s eyes had held longing, already missing the pupil before their eternal farewell. Why couldn’t Ion say more? Now, never to meet again, the calm detachment from the mental realm turned to rotting pain. The realization hit: It was truly the end.

Oddly, seeing Teacher dead before the upheaval hadn’t hurt, but now grief surged. Yet it wasn’t odd—the Teacher who died then and the one now were the same yet different. In the end, Teacher wanted to free his pupils, choosing to merge with the World Tree to escape the Apostle. But did he truly love them all, or just the young dragon? The uncertainty weighed on Ion.

At the barrier separating the World Tree’s core from the outside, they said their goodbyes. Ion asked, just in case, how long until Teacher was fully digested.

“Decades remain for complete digestion, but in a month or two, he’ll be too far gone to converse. He’ll be as good as dead. Don’t hold futile hope,” the World Tree said.

Having seen the “zombies” in the mental realm, Ion harbored no such hope.

“Thank you for your help, Elidivi,” Ion said.

“One more piece of advice: your vitality is heavily drained. I don’t know why, but without rest, it won’t recover fully.”

Ion knew. Now, a night’s sleep restored 100% vitality, but recovery would slow over time. Still, with so much to do, what choice was there?

“Thanks. I’ll be careful,” Ion said.

“If you’re grateful, send more humans to me. I’ll eat them gladly,” the World Tree said, its innocent childlike form belying cruel words.

Having witnessed the mental realm’s souls, Ion didn’t see Elidivi as evil. “Why do you eat humans?” he asked.

“Why do carnivorous plants eat insects?”

“For nutrients,” Ion answered.

“Same. My roots span this island. Sustaining this massive body requires ample intake.”

“That’s a lie,” Ion said firmly.

“…”

“Animals and insects suffice for nutrients. Your size means more sunlight absorption. You eat souls in the mental realm, not for nutrients but another reason,” Ion pressed.

“You’re right. I lied,” Elidivi admitted, expression unchanged, wearing that lonely look from before—like someone standing alone in a snowy field. “I seek a strong soul, one that can endure my mental realm.”

“Why?” Ion asked.

“I told you. It’s every plant’s wish.”

Ion couldn’t fathom this “wish.” Elidivi smiled and vanished, though its presence remained. Ion took it as a farewell.

“Sevi,” Ion said.

“Dam Ion…” Sevi, now a silver-haired boy outside the barrier, fought tears, wrinkles creasing their brow and chin.

“Where will you go now?” Ion asked.

“To help Killia and Sara,” Sevi said.

“What?”

“I’m grown now. A powerful dragon like me can’t leave Idea’s war to weak humans and elves. I’ll help them,” Sevi declared, full of justice.

But Sevi couldn’t stand out. A dragon, not in the script, would be erased if the Apostle noticed—exactly as Teacher feared.

“Why not visit Grandpa and Grandma first? Tell them about Master,” Ion suggested.

“They don’t care about Master,” Sevi replied.

“Then help Prince Fevel,” Ion said.

“Ugh…” Sevi, fond of Fevel and Fint, hesitated. Ion seized the chance, persuading Sevi to join Fevel’s quieter, non-main-story mission for safety.

“I wish you and Baba could come…” Sevi said.

“Sorry, I have somewhere to go,” Ion replied.

“I know. Master gave you a special mission. I understand. I’m fully grown, so I won’t beg to join,” Sevi said.

Teacher had warned against mentioning the Apostle outside safe spaces like the mental realm. Even in a noisy plaza, the word “Apostle” could draw their attention, like hearing one’s name in a crowd. Ion hadn’t told Sevi yet but would in a safe place later—Sevi, as Teacher’s pupil, deserved to know.

“Sevi, bye. See you later,” Baba said.

“Stay safe, Sevi,” Ion added.

“Okay. Don’t worry about me. Stay healthy, Dam Ion, Baba, Sanse!” Sevi used a scroll and vanished.

Left were Ion, Baba, and Sanse. Baba flapped toward where Sevi disappeared, then plopped onto Sanse’s pot.

“Dam Ion, where we going?” Baba asked.

“The Holy See,” Ion said.

“Where’s that?”

“Idelfin, in the Illiand Empire. First, we leave this island.”

Teacher had told Ion about the Holy See in Idelfin, a religious state in the Illiand Empire’s southwest, akin to Earth’s Vatican. Few knew of the Celestial Realm—Dragon Lords, elf elders, sword masters, archmages, and Idelfin’s Holy Sovereign, who knew it best, though Teacher had never met the veiled figure. Ion planned to knock on the Holy See’s door.

Leaving the forest, Ion secured a ship from Elidivi Port to the Illiand Empire. A boat left at dawn, so he bought a ticket and rested at an inn. In a third-floor room overlooking a lake, Ion sat at a desk, feeding Baba mana flow and watering Sanse. He chewed a hard piece of bread.

Baba, mana flow on its mouth, asked, “Dam Ion eating slow. Thinking what? Sanse’s curious.”

“Don’t use Sanse as an excuse. Just say you’re curious,” Ion said.

“Then you won’t answer,” Baba replied.

“I’ll answer,” Ion assured.

“Then answer! What’re you thinking?” Baba demanded.

Ion couldn’t mention the Apostle to Baba. Instead, he said, “What was the World Tree’s wish?”

The question slipped out, revealing his subconscious curiosity.

“I know. Movement. World Tree wants to move,” Baba said.

“Move?” Ion asked.

“Yeah. World Tree said it’s every plant’s wish. Plants can’t move. Everything wants what it can’t do—fly if it can’t fly, speak if it can’t speak, move if it can’t move.”

A body to contain its vast mind—that was the World Tree’s wish.

“…” Ion blinked, then scoffed. “No way. Plants accept and adapt. They don’t covet impossible things.”

“I’m right. It’s true. Ask World Tree later,” Baba insisted.

“Forget it. Eat your mana flow,” Ion said, dismissing Baba’s words.

Plants dreaming of the impossible? Absurd. Swallowing the rock-hard bread, Ion thought of escaping the Apostle. Was that an impossible dream too? Should he accept the scripted play and live as dictated? Before, he’d have thought it didn’t matter—Teacher’s orders were to be followed. But now, Ion asked himself:

What do I want?

To accept the play or resist the Apostle? What did he desire?

“…” A headache surged. Ion pressed his forehead to Sanse’s leaves. Why am I even asking this? No need for such questions. Teacher said to do it, so I will.

That night, curled tightly on a narrow bed, Ion jolted awake. Hugging Sanse, he summoned a flaming sword, on guard.

“Ion awake? Something’s there,” Baba said, already up, glaring at the door.

“Sharp kid,” a voice said. A figure stood at the door—a hybrid who’d appeared with an ancient beast before reaching the central island.